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pikapeppa · 5 years

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Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Lyrium

Chapter 4 of Damned Spot is up! Read on AO3, or read the previous chapters here on Tumblr: [1] [2] [3]

Also, @schoute is making a gorgeous comic of the fic! See the first two pages on her Tumblr!

In which there are text messages, and also a party WITH FRIENDS. And also some angst. A longer chapter (~7700 words), but what the heck, I’ll post it all.

****************

Piper solicitously wrapped a blanket around Rynne’s shoulders. “So let me get this straight,” she said. “He saves you from a butthurt asshole in the alley. You patch him up. He walks you home. And not even a goodnight kiss?”

She jumped up from the couch and moved toward the kitchen, and Rynne let out a quick laugh. “Trust me, Pipes, it wasn’t… The mood was not right for a kiss.”

It was Monday afternoon, and Piper had gotten home late last night from her weekend getaway. Rynne had just finished an abridged telling of the Friday night debacle - leaving out all the information about Fenris’s past, of course.

Rynne wasn’t being entirely truthful when she said the mood hadn’t been right for a kiss. During the whole walk home, she’d been forced to suppress the urge to take shelter in the steady strength of Fenris’s arms. She was a big fan of physical comfort, hugs and hand-holding and the like, and Fenris’s timely rescue - combined with the fact that she was already infatuated with him - made her want to cling to him like a baby lemur.

But she was trying to respect his aversion to touch. Besides, the walk home had been… oddly intense. Fenris had seemed deep in thought, and Rynne had nervously blathered about all kinds of stupid things to make up for his silence, and by the time they reached the door of Isabela’s condo building, it had almost been a relief when he’d dropped her off with nothing more than a polite nod of the head and a wish for a good night.

Rynne knew she should probably be more freaked out about Fenris’s past. Being an enforcer for the Tevinter mob was not a minor revelation. But for some reason, she just couldn’t bring herself to be scared of him. Maybe she was in denial, or maybe she’d seen so many action movies that she was desensitized to the idea, but she just… didn’t mind.

Fenris’s past didn’t change anything. He was still the same quiet, broody, private, smooth-voiced, handsome and helpful elf he’d always been. The only difference was that Rynne now knew why he was so quiet and broody and private.

How basic was it that the reveal of his dark past just made her want to kiss him all the more?

Piper grunted and poured a cup of hot tea. “What about Saturday and Sunday night, then? He walked you home all weekend and no kiss?”

Rynne slumped on the couch as Piper flitted back to her side and placed the tea on the coffee table. “No, okay? No kiss. He’s probably not interested. He probably thinks I’m just some dumb girl who needs to be looked after.” She couldn’t help but kind of feel that way herself. What the hell was the point of self-defence training if it just melted out of her brain the second she was attacked? She’d tried to headbutt the guy in the face, but that had failed, and if Fenris hadn’t shown up -

She shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees. She could still remember the disgusting feeling of that asshole’s bulging crotch pressing against her back as he shoved her against the wall.

Fucking horrible, she thought. She reached out and grabbed the mug of tea on the coffee table, then took a gulp and scalded her tongue.

Piper watched her worriedly, then carefully tucked the blanket around her neck and her feet. “Should’ve let Fenris cut that guy’s dick off. That would have served him right.”

“Yeah,” Rynne sighed. “But we would have been there all night. His dick was probably microscopic and impossible to find.”

Piper snorted. “Probably. But once Fenris cut it off, we could stick it into the garnish tray with the cornichons. It would be right at home.”

Rynne grinned at the gross image, and they both burst into raucous laughter. Then Piper wrapped her arms around Rynne’s neck in a tight hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she said. “If I’d been there to watch out for you -”

Rynne hugged her back. “Oh balls, don’t be fucking stupid,” she said. “You were off having a sexy holiday! How was your weekend, by the way? You didn’t tell me. How’s Ostwick at this time of year?”

Piper pulled away and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

Her tone of voice was exceedingly innocent. Rynne hid her smirk and played along. “Oh? What do you mean?” she asked.

Piper coyly tugged her silvery braid over one shoulder. “We spent the whole weekend in the hotel room. Except for meals. That is, when I wasn’t devouring Cullen’s-”

Rynne snickered and shoved Piper away. “Thank you, too much information. I don’t want to hear all the details of my best friend feasting on my lawyer’s cock, thanks very much.”

Piper cackled and shoved her in return. “Hey, you said it, not me. You’re the nasty one.”

“Ooh, who’s nasty? Do tell.” Isabela floated into the living room wearing nothing but a silken dressing gown and a grin. She flopped down on the couch beside Rynne, and one half of her gown fell open to reveal a pierced nipple.

As always, Piper and Rynne ignored her nudity. “Piper spent the whole weekend sucking Cullen’s cock,” Rynne reported.

“And Rynne spent the whole weekend wishing she was sucking Fenris’s cock,” Piper retaliated.

Rynne gasped in mock offense. “How dare you get so far into my brain? You pervert.”

Isabela straightened up. “That’s it. I need to meet this Fenris.” She pulled her phone out of her dressing gown pocket and tapped the screen, then held the phone to her ear.

Rynne raised an eyebrow. “Who are you calling?”

Isabela blew her a kiss, then rose gracefully from the couch. “Josie? It’s me. I’m throwing a party this Saturday. Let’s say… seventy-five people. A smaller little thing, yes. Can you-” She paused and listened, then threw her head back and laughed. “Thanks, sweets. You know me too well.” She listened for a moment longer, then grinned and ended the call.

She shifted her weight to one hip and planted a hand on her waist. “Bring your handsome bouncer, Hawke. I won’t take no for an answer.”

A flutter of anticipation lit Rynne’s belly, and she and Piper grinned at each other. Then another cheerful voice joined the conversation. “Oh, are we having a party? How nice! Can I make a cake?”

Rynne grinned as Merrill flitted through the kitchen into the living room. “Is it going to be a cake like last time? Because if so, then that’s a hard no.”

Merrill waved her hands. “No, no, that was just a mistake! Silly me, putting in a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon-”

Isabela draped her arm around Merrill’s slender shoulders. “Of course you can make a cake, kitten. I’ll eat the first piece myself.”

Merrill happily clapped her hands. “Oh good! Mihris sent me a pin with a new recipe and I’ve been hoping for a good reason to try it. It’s kind of an odd one, mind you, it’s got dragonthorn in it, but most of the reviews say the aftertaste is supposed to be lovely…”

Piper, Merrill, and Isabela continued to chat about cakes and cocks and who to invite to the party, and Rynne pulled out her phone and flicked through to her contacts. Finally, at long last, she had a good reason to text him.

She bit her lip as she looked at Fenris’s number. Then, with a happy little flutter of nerves, she tapped his name and started a new message thread.

1:27pm - hey! party at Isabela’s place this Saturday! 1:27pm - you can come anytime after 8pm but the earlier the better 1:27pm - dont be fashionably late. i like punctuality in a man 1:28pm - i’ll dance with you if you’re very good ;)

She sent the messages rapid-fire, then listened to her friends’ conversation with half an ear while she waited.

She waited and tapped her toes impatiently for a minute or so, then rose to her feet and went to the kitchen to refresh her tea. Fenris’s phone was so archaic that Rynne probably wouldn’t get the little animated-ellipsis-thingy showing that he was typing, so she would just have to suffer the wait.

While the kettle was boiling, she heard the ding of a new text in her pocket. She hurriedly pulled out her phone.

1:35pm - Who is this 1:35pm - How did you get this number

She laughed. She could almost hear his suspicion through the letters on her screen. She started to type a response, but his next message appeared before she could finish.

1:36pm - Hawke?

She grinned giddily, feeling somehow flattered that he knew it was her. She quickly finished her replies.

1:36pm - 10 points to the broody elf! yes, it’s Hawke 1:36pm - keep your schedule clear for saturday night! 1:36pm - Isabela relaly wants to meet you 1:36pm - really**

She placed the phone on the counter and stared unseeingly at the kettle while she waited. Once the kettle had boiled, she poured her tea over the teabag in her mug and picked up her phone, despite not having heard the text tone.

Indeed, no new replies from Fenris. Rynne nibbled the inside of her cheek, then flicked around on Pinterest and saved a few fanart posts, but she was having trouble pretending to be interested in anything except the burning silence of her messaging app.

She eventually returned to the living room and forced herself to join in with the others’ conversation. An eon later, when her phone dinged again, she shamelessly whipped it out and looked at the screen.

1:52pm - It is not a good idea.

She frowned. She understood that he wanted to keep his head down, but he would just be one more face in the crowd at this party.

She swiftly tapped out her replies.

1:52pm - please come 1:52pm - i promise my friends are not as bad as me 1:52pm - well that might be a lie 1:53pm - but i promise youll have a good time 1:53pm - if you hate it, you can leave. i’ll pack you a doggie bag of snacks and everything

Did she sound desperate? Probably. Did she care? Apparently not. She really was willing to make an idiot of herself for him, it seemed.

“So?” Isabela asked. “What’s he saying?”

Rynne didn’t bother to ask how Isabela knew who she was texting. She gave Isabela a rueful smile. “It’s touch and go. He’s not really a ‘people person’.”

Isabela shrugged, and her silken gown slipped off of one shoulder. “Tell him we’ll all show him our tits if he comes.”

Merrill gasped and folded her arms across her chest, and Piper cackled. “Only if we all want Cullen’s face to burst into flame.”

Isabela laughed and Rynne grinned wickedly, but before she could reply, her phone dinged once more.

1:55pm - I will think about it.

Rynne breathed a small sigh of relief. An opening was all she needed.

1:55pm - yay! i’ll make sure Bels stocks up on the best red wine just for you

She had the entire week to bring him around. Surely she could convince him to come in the space of a week.

***********************

Fenris shouldn’t have come.

He stood stock-still outside of the entrance to Isabela’s condo. It was a mistake to come here. Parties involved being introduced to people, and having them stare at him and wanting to shake hands, and remembering his face and his name in order to tell other people about him later.

All of it boded poorly. Fenris was trying to stay incognito. He didn’t want to be looked at. He didn’t want to be remembered, so coming here was a mistake. The entire time he was walking here from Lowtown, he’d told himself that coming to this party was a mistake, and yet here he was.

He scowled at the big glass double doors for a long minute while he considered turning around and going home. Then his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He flipped it open to find a new message from Hawke.

9:42pm - i hope your on your way! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 9:42pm - you’re*** 9:43pm - for the first you’re i mean 9:43pm - fuck it you understand what i mena 9:43pm - fuck’s sake

Despite his buzzing discomfort, he couldn’t help but smile. Her texts were just like her: over the top, overly flirtatious, and impossible to ignore. And also oddly charming.

He traced his thumb across the texts, then flipped his phone shut. He pushed open the heavy glass doors and buzzed the intercom for Isabela’s condo.

A loud voice and an indistinct buzz of noise greeted him. “Welcome to the animal house. Who dares to enter this den of debauchery?”

Fenris frowned apprehensively. The voice on the line sultry and smooth, and definitely not Hawke’s. “Is Hawke there?” he asked.

The sultry voice chuckled. “I don’t know your voice, but I bet I know who you are. Come on in, handsome.” She disconnected the call, and Fenris heard the click of the inner doors unlocking.

He cast the intercom a suspicious look, then slunk through the lobby toward the elevators and hit the PH button. He held himself perfectly still as the elevator slid smoothly up to the penthouse floor, then stepped out of the elevator into a short corridor.

He immediately heard the faint thump of bass and the noise of conversation. He swallowed hard, then cautiously approached the door at the end of the hall and rang the doorbell. Moments later, a beautiful woman in a scandalously short white dress answered the door.

She grinned at him and slid a salacious look across his body. “Wow. You must be Fenris.”

He raised one eyebrow and hid his hands in his pockets. “And you must be Isabela.”

She laughed and raised her mostly-empty crystal tumbler. “Guilty as charged. Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

Fenris followed her into the apartment and immediately began assessing the situation. The condo was less crowded than he’d anticipated, but that was likely more because of how enormous it was rather than the number of people per se. Two storeys, two generous sitting areas, and an enormous open-plan kitchen were the first features he absorbed, as well as the exceedingly tasteful white-and chrome decor… or at least it would be exceedingly tasteful, but it was broken up by a multitude of personal touches - knick-knacks, cushions and blankets, and wall art and plants that were variably colourful, chaotic, and cozy, and all of which clearly indicated the tastes of a number of different residents.

“I’ll get you a drink,” Isabela said. “Red wine, right?”

Fenris turned his attention to her and narrowed his eyes. “What else have Piper and Hawke told you?” he drawled.

Isabela smirked. “Honestly? Nothing much. Which is why I was hoping you would come. I hate missing out. What’s the point of being a famous actress if your friends are flirting with handsome boys and having all the fun at home?”

“Hm,” Fenris said as Isabela ushered him further into the house and further into the cheerfully chattering crowd. “Is that why you have roommates? You certainly don’t seem to need them.”

“Exactly,” Isabela purred. “Why else would I own an extravagantly large penthouse if it’s not to fill it with beautiful women and party all the time?”

Fenris huffed in amusement, then followed Isabela into the kitchen. Myriad people were laughing and drinking therein, and as he waited for Isabela to pour his wine, he caught sight of a familiar face - or rather, a familiar silvery fall of hair.

He slowly drifted away from Isabela to join Piper, who was talking animatedly to an attractive blond man. “...and this asshole clips me on my bike. So naturally, I go after him.”

“Maker preserve me, Piper,” the man groaned. Piper chuckled, then glanced over in Fenris’s direction.

She straightened and smiled. “Fenris! You’re finally here! Hawke was - we weren’t sure if you were going to show!”

He tilted his head in a polite nod. “My apologies. I wasn’t sure if I would come, either.”

Piper’s blond companion gave him a half-smile. “Not a fan of parties, I take it?”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Not particularly.”

The man folded his arms. “Neither am I. The, um, unwanted attention usually makes such events more annoying than they’re worth.”

“Oh, Cullen. Are you complaining again about being too handsome?” Isabela wafted over and handed Fenris a glass of wine. “It’s such a hard life, isn’t it?”

Cullen shot Isabela a chiding look. “We don’t all make careers off of our looks, Isabela.”

“More’s the pity,” she replied, then winked at him.

Fenris raised his eyebrows in recognition. “So you are Piper’s boyfriend,” he said to Cullen. “She and Hawke have spoken highly of you.”

Piper smacked herself in the forehead. “Right! You haven’t met! I’m so sorry - Fenris, this is Cullen. Cullen, Fenris.”

Cullen smiled and held out his hand to shake. With a small internal sigh - and so the handshaking begins - Fenris briefly grasped Cullen’s proffered hand. “I hear your law practice is very successful. And very busy.”

“Too busy, at times,” Cullen said ruefully. “I haven’t had a chance to take a case like Hawke’s in a very long time.”

Fenris frowned. “...Hawke’s?”

“Oh,” Piper said brightly. “I forgot to tell you. Cullen sometimes takes pro bono cases for us little people who can’t afford a big fancy lawyer. He’s very generous with his time that way.” She looped her hand through Cullen’s elbow and gave him an adoring look.

Isabela made a mock-vomiting noise, and Piper snickered and punched her in the shoulder. Meanwhile, Cullen cleared his throat awkwardly. His cheeks were turning pink. “It is not - she exaggerates, it’s simply my duty to help -”

“Don’t dismiss yourself,” Fenris interjected. “That is a very noble undertaking. It sickens me that the trappings of power and wealth also ensnare the justice system. The world could use more lawyers such as yourself, who care more about righting wrongs than collecting wealth.”

Piper and Isabela stared at him, and Cullen lifted his eyebrows appreciatively. “Well. I… thank you, Fenris, that’s very kind of you to say.”

Fenris nodded and sipped his wine, feeling increasingly awkward. The dance beats and the sounds of conversation and laughter were loud, but the stunned silence from Isabela and Piper somehow felt louder.

He returned his gaze to Cullen. “So. You… you worked with Hawke?”

He nodded. “Yes, with the whole situation with her father and the lyrium. I was happy to help. It wasn’t -”

Fenris’s belly jolted. “Lyrium?” he said sharply.

Cullen frowned slightly. “Yes, in his final days. She… she didn’t tell you?”

Fenris stared at him with growing discomfiture. Then Piper cut in. “Shit. Maybe she didn’t tell him,” she said to Cullen. She grimaced at Fenris. “Sorry, Fenris, she’s an open book about it, I just assumed -”

“Fenris!” Hawke’s bright and cheerful voice cut through the noise. She bounced over and beamed at him. “You’re here, finally! Took you long enough. Did you take the scenic route through the docks to get here? If so, I hope you brought us some seafood. The shrimp cocktail leaves something to be desired.”

Isabela scoffed. “Ungrateful tart. I’ll make sure to let Josephine know.”

“Please do,” Hawke snickered. “I mean, you know I prefer my shrimp breaded and fried, but I’m also a pleb with simple tastes.” She tilted her head at Fenris. “Is the wine okay?”

How are you involved with lyrium? The question burned through his mind. Had she been on the receiving end of it? Had someone forced her to deal it? What had Cullen been talking about?

He tried to push his agitation aside as he scrambled for an appropriate response to her question. “I - yes, it’s fine,” he said.

“Only ‘fine’?” Isabela said indignantly. “That’s a shame. This was supposed to be the best stock from Nevarra.” She plucked the glass from his hand and sipped it, then pouted slightly. “You’re right. It’s not great. Let me get you another.”

“Oh. No, that’s not - that glass is fine-” he started to say, but Isabela had already turned away.

Hawke shrugged and smiled at him. “I’m sure she knew your wine was fine. She just needed an excuse to walk away so we could all stare at her fine ass.”

At her words, Fenris instinctively looked at Isabela’s departing backside. It was admittedly a very fine one.

He returned his gaze to Hawke, and she smiled more broadly. “Made you look,” she teased.

He studied her playful expression. Isabela’s curves were undeniably ripe, but if Fenris was completely honest, he was more interested in the slender physique of the cheeky, pixie-haired woman in front of him.

He stuck his hands into his pockets, wishing that he had a wine glass to hold onto. “Your dress is interesting,” he said to Hawke. Indeed, the fabric of her grey-and-white dress was the oddest print he had ever seen: a chaotic pattern of skulls and pineapples, of all the strange things.

She beamed at him. “Thank you! It is, isn’t it?” She snickered. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your wording, though. ‘Interesting’ is not exactly a compliment.”

“Then I misspoke,” Fenris replied. “I like it very much.” And he did. The pattern was odd, but the cut of the fitted dress was… extremely flattering.

Hawke’s smile softened, and Fenris felt an undeniable - and treacherous - jolt of satisfaction when her cheeks started to flush. “You smooth talker,” she said happily. “Keep up the compliments, and you’re definitely invited to the next party.”

“Hmm. A dubious honour at best,” he replied.

Hawke laughed brightly at his comment. Fenris smirked, then tore his eyes away from her lovely laughing face, incidentally making eye contact with Piper.

Piper, who was watching him with a very satisfied grin.

Fenris dropped his gaze and cleared his throat uncomfortably - why was Isabela taking so long with that wine? - and was very relieved when another familiar face joined their group.

“Well well, the broody elf has come out of his hole,” Varric said. He gave Fenris an appraising look. “Our girls finally managed to drag you out, did they?”

“You could say that,” Fenris said. “They’re very… persistent.” He shot Hawke a quick glance, and she winked at him.

Varric chuckled. “Good. The more the merrier at these things, I say.”

Cullen harrumphed. “I have to say, I’m glad Isabela kept this one small. I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time.” He shot Piper a resentful look.

Piper scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I left you alone for two minutes. It’s not my fault that your resting bitch face is just as cute as your happy face.”

“I - but - they started unbuttoning my shirt!” Cullen protested, and Piper giggled and kissed his cheek.

Fenris looked around at the crowded penthouse. “Wait. This is a small party?” The house wasn’t uncomfortably crowded, but it was getting there. There were so many people that Fenris wasn’t even worrying anymore about being recognized or remembered.

“Oh yeah,” Varric drawled. “You’ve got room to move? Then it’s a small party. This place can get worse than a nightclub on a good night.”

“Why are we even still standing in the kitchen?” Hawke demanded. “We should go upstairs. The upstairs living room is usually less busy.”

Then Isabela reappeared behind Varric. “Sorry for the hold-up,” she said as she handed Fenris his wine. “Now, whose cock size were you gossiping about? Don’t be shy. Fill me in. I mean, I’m fairly sure Varric’s is the biggest, but let’s just say -”

“We were discussing going upstairs,” Cullen interrupted loudly. “A fine idea, I think, if it means fewer people around.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “I thought Piper brought you along to loosen up, not so your asshole gets even tighter.”

Cullen pursed his lips in annoyance, and Piper laughed and pinched his bum. “Come on, babe, let’s go. Everyone upstairs. Last one there has to dance on the pole for us.”

Fenris frowned. “Pole?”

Hawke blurted a tiny laugh, and Fenris glanced over to find her cheeks turning pink. She shot him an oddly coy look, then jerked her head to the right. “This way,” she said. Then she waved to a couple of other people in the main foyer. “Anders! Merrill! Come join us!”

Feeling increasingly nonplussed, Fenris followed Hawke and her friends up the stairs to yet another seating area that was indeed centered around a pole that spanned from the ceiling to a circular platform on the floor.

His eyebrows jumped high on his forehead. “Why…?”

Hawke sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside her, and Fenris took a seat. “It’s good exercise,” she told him.

“And we look gorgeous doing it,” Isabela added. She leaned her elbows on the back of the couch and gave him a sly grin. “Maybe we’ll let you watch sometime.” She elbowed Hawke, and the two of them laughed dirtily, but Fenris noted that Hawke’s cheeks were still pink.

Isabela drifted away to join Varric, Cullen and Piper on the other couch, and Fenris met Hawke’s eyes. She was still smiling, but there was something else about her expression that made him feel oddly jittery. Something almost… deep, or weighted, but not in a bad way - in a nice, warm way, in fact.

He nervously gnawed the inside of his cheek as he cast around for something to say, but Hawke spoke first. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

Her tone was warm and serious. Fenris stared at her, feeling strangely at a loss for words. “I-”

Another handsome blond stranger suddenly swooped in and hugged her. “Hawke! There you are. I was just catching up with Merrill. She was going on about that blood lotus treatment of hers and the talk she gave at the Arlathvhen, it doesn’t sound like it went over too well -”

“Anders, I told you, it wasn’t the blood lotus part they didn’t like,” a small Dalish girl interjected. She folded her arms and frowned at the new blond man. “I just didn’t explain it well. Hawke, can I practice my presentation with you next time, you know I’m not a very good public speaker…”

The blond man shook his head. “There’s not enough evidence to support the use of blood lotus in medicine, Merrill.”

Fenris watched with growing puzzlement as the Dalish girl’s ears began turning red. “Healing isn’t all about Fereldan medicine!” she snapped. “Traditional elvhen healing isn’t worthless just because there’s insufficient research. But try telling that to your research funding bodies!”

“You two do know this is a party, right?” Hawke drawled. “It’s not a medical conference.”

Anders opened his mouth, then released a little chuckle and sat on the platform that the dancing pole was affixed to. “Right. Sorry, Hawke, sometimes I get overexcited -”

“This is Fenris, by the way,” Hawke interrupted. “He works with me and Pipes. Fenris, this is Anders and Merrill. Anders is a doctor. Merrill is a Dalish healer.”

Anders nodded politely, and Merrill smiled at Fenris. “Aneth ara. I’ve never seen vallaslin like yours before.” Her eyes fell on his hands, which were resting on his knees.

He frowned and tucked his hands back into his pockets. “It is not vallaslin. I am not Dalish.”

Merrill’s eyes widened. “Oh. I’m sorry, I thought -”

“Sorry, Hawke, I just have to tell you this one thing,” Anders interrupted excitedly. “I finally got that funding I was telling you about! We’ll be able to start the project in about a month, as soon as we’ve finalized the contract with the lyrium supplier.”

Fenris whipped around and narrowed his eyes at Anders. “You work with lyrium?”

“Yes, of course,” Anders said in surprise. “All physicians in Kirkwall do. It’s the only city in the Free Marches where the use of lyrium is legal across the board.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Fenris said brusquely.

Beside him, Hawke went still. Anders recoiled slightly. “You can’t be serious,” he said slowly. “Lyrium saves lives. It’s both a painkiller and a stimulant for the immune system if it’s used safely-”

“There is no safe way to use lyrium,” Fenris retorted. “It’s a dangerous psychoactive drug. There is an enormous market for it in Tevinter. Where I am from, lyrium sales are the backbone of at least seventy percent of organized crime activities.”

Anders relaxed. “Ah. Well, that’s the problem. The Imperium is a specific case. The distribution is much more regulated and controlled here-”

“There is no controlling it,” Fenris said firmly. “Lyrium might be a painkiller and an immune system stimulant, but it is also extremely addictive. It is a weapon used against the poor and unknowing. Tell me, Doctor, how much does a single lyrium capsule cost?”

Anders frowned, then pursed his lips. “It costs approximately $16 per capsule,” he admitted. “More, depending on the brand.”

Fenris leaned back and stretched his arms along the back of the couch. “And you think that your colleagues in this city aren’t taking advantage of that cost? I have read the local news. There have been multiple cases of physicians putting their most vulnerable patients on a higher dose than they require in order to keep them coming back for more.”

Anders glared at him. “The doctors that do that are the exception. They are not the rule.”

“When money is at play, no one is exempt from such corruption,” Fenris announced. “You are a fool if you think yourself immune.”

Anders shot him a filthy look. “And just who are you to lecture about these matters? You work at a pub. What do you know of it?”

“Hey,” Hawke interjected. “Nothing wrong with working at a pub.”

Fenris scowled at Anders’s dismissive tone. “I know more about the dangers of lyrium than you ever will,” he snapped. “You are protected by your physician’s licence and your research funding. You know nothing of how the illicit sale and misuse of lyrium can devastate a family or a town. Or an entire country, in the case of Tevinter.” His mother’s and Varania’s faces flashed across his mind - dead because of Danarius and his lyrium business.

Fenris had never even gotten to say goodbye. Danarius’s people had already dealt with their bodies by the time Fenris had woken up in the hospital. And then Fenris had sullied their memories by becoming addicted to the very substance that had indirectly claimed their lives.

He inhaled deeply through his nose. It is done, he thought. He couldn’t change his past. He wasn’t addicted to lyrium anymore, and that had to be good enough. “Lyrium is a filthy substance, and it is the lifeblood of Tevinter,” he announced. “The Imperium is a corrupt and foul place, and it would not be so if it was not for the lax attitudes toward lyrium.”

Hawke laughed nervously and tugged at one of her many earrings. “I don’t know, Fenris. I don’t think they’d make lyrium legal in Kirkwall if the doctors and policy-making people hadn’t done their due diligence and all that.”

Fenris shot her a hard look. “Don’t be naive. Just because something is legal does not mean it is right. The legalization of lyrium makes it that much easier to abuse.”

Anders leaned forward. “How can you talk about lyrium like this to Hawke?” he demanded.

Fenris frowned at him. “What are you talking about?” He turned his gaze back to Hawke, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “What is he talking about?”

Hawke slowly met his gaze, and Fenris’s stomach jolted uncomfortably at the apologetic look on her face. But Anders piped in before she could speak. “Her father died of a lyrium overdose,” he said. “And it was the best thing for him. He would have been in agony otherwise.”

Fenris stared at her. Bewilderment and anger were churning together in his chest. “What… why…?”

“Cancer,” Hawke said. She picked up her tumbler of brandy and idly swirled it. “It was everywhere. His bones, his brain, his organs, everywhere. We moved to Kirkwall specifically so he could be treated with lyrium. Palliative, of course, since the cancer was incurable.” She took a sip of her drink. “He killed himself with lyrium. But they thought I was the one who gave him the dose that killed him.”

Fenris’s eyes widened. “What?” he blurted. Then the pieces clicked into place. “This is how you know Cullen?”

She nodded. “He got the charges against me dropped. He’s pretty amazing, actually. There’s a good reason Pipes is head-over-heels for him.” She took another gulp of brandy and gave him a crooked little smile. “Anders didn’t even tell you the best part,” she said pleasantly. “Do you know who called the police on me?”

Fenris watched with a growing sense of dread as she finished off the last of her drink, then placed the tumbler on the table and looked at him once more. “My mother,” she said. “My mother called the police and told them I killed my dad.” Her smile widened, and then she started to laugh.

Fenris couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t swallow. He stared at her as she laughed, then rose to her feet. “I’m going to get another drink,” she said cheerfully. “Anyone else want one?”

Merrill and Anders quietly declined, and Fenris dumbly shook his head. Hawke winked and slipped past him, then headed down the stairs without looking back.

As soon as she was gone, Anders glared at him. “Nicely done. You really don’t know her at all, do you?”

Fenris returned his glare, but he couldn’t deny the discomfort roiling in his stomach. Most of the lyrium victims he’d encountered had been young and healthy people looking for an escape. Young elves, primarily, who thought they’d found that escape in Danarius’s dealers as they peddled lyrium as a party drug. The only physicians he’d known were the corrupt ones that Danarius worked with, who misused their prescription privileges and kept their patients addicted to lyrium for years on end. Patients like Fenris himself.

He hadn’t encountered anyone like Hawke’s father: riddled with disease and looking to lyrium for relief.

He rose from the couch, and Anders grabbed his arm. “Leave her alone-”

Fenris wrenched his arm away and pinned Anders with a glare. ��Touch me again, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Merrill’s eyes grew impossibly large, and Anders glared back at him in silence, and Fenris made his way to the stairs to find Hawke.

*********************

Rynne leaned her elbows on the balcony railing and took another deep breath, then another gulp of her drink. When she’d imagined getting to know Fenris a little better, this was not really what she’d had in mind.

He hates lyrium. The unpleasant truth raced through her mind. Not only that, but he really seemed to hate the people who thought using it was okay. Fenris wasn’t exactly the warm and cuddly type, but she’d never seen him react so negatively toward anyone as he had toward Anders.

But there was nothing Rynne could do about it. She couldn’t change what had happened with her father. Furthermore, she wouldn’t change it even if she had a choice. He’d been suffering, suffering for months and months with no respite even with the strongest doses of lyrium that the doctor was willing to prescribe, and with the fucking law in this city, there had been no choice. The overdose had been a mercy.

She’d had no choice.

Rynne took another gulp of her brandy, and her phone buzzed against her thigh.

She surreptitiously looked around, then reached between her legs and pulled her phone out of the clever little thigh strap that Piper had found during an idle afternoon of browsing around on Amazon.

Her heart did a funny little jump as she checked the screen. The message was from Fenris.

10:17pm - Where are you?

She nibbled her lip, then put her tumbler down and slowly typed out a response.

10:17pm - why? miss me already? ^^

His reply came quickly.

10:18pm - I want to talk to you.

She tugged nervously at her earrings. Why did he want to talk? Was he mad at her? Maybe he just wanted to compliment her dress again? A girl could hope.

She hesitated for a moment, then scoffed at herself. Oh, who am I kidding, she thought. Of course she was going to tell him where she was.

10:18pm - i’m on the balcony. first floor, the door is close to the piano. 10:18pm - and no, before you ask, none of us can play the piano 10:18pm - it’s just there for Isabela to lounge on and look sexy LOL

He didn’t reply, and Rynne eventually tucked her phone back into her thigh sheath and waited with increasing nerves to see if he would show up.

A minute later, the noise of the party spilled out onto the balcony, and Rynne turned to see Fenris stepping outside to join her. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the noise, and then it was just the two of them in the peaceful night air.

Rynne warily watched his face as he slowly approached. He looked… the same as usual. Inscrutable and serious as ever.

She swallowed and rested her elbows on the railing again. “Come to check out the view?” she said breezily. “Kirkwall looks way better at night. It all just looks like fireflies. The darkness really hides the rampant graffiti well.”

He leaned back against the balcony railing and continued to study her in silence, and Rynne turned her gaze back to the city lights, unable to tolerate the intensity of his gaze.

A long, awkward moment later, Fenris finally spoke. “Why did your mother accuse you of killing your father?”

Rynne nervously licked her lips. “Did you know that physician-assisted suicide is illegal in Kirkwall?” she asked.

He didn’t reply, and Rynne finally shot him a very quick glance. He was frowning slightly, but he didn’t look outright angry, so she continued. “My family is from Lothering. They have physician-assisted suicide there, but lyrium is illegal. Here in Kirkwall, lyrium is legal, but physician-assisted suicide isn’t. It’s a stupid catch-22.” She sighed and leaned more heavily on her elbows. “We came here for the pain control. Lyrium is very good for that, especially for terminal cancer patients. But… Maker’s balls, Fenris, my dad’s cancer was everywhere. Even the lyrium wasn’t taking the edge off. And he was too weak for us to take him back to Lothering for physician-assisted suicide. Not that my mother would have agreed to it anyway, she… well, whatever.” Rynne shrugged dismissively. “So one day, when I was alone at home with him, he asked me to help him end it.”

“He asked you...?” Fenris said quietly.

“Not to actually kill him,” she said hurriedly. “But to help him get enough lyrium to… to finish himself off.” She swallowed hard, then shot him a tiny smile. “Did you know you can take lyrium in a bunch of different ways? Pills, shots, ointments, under the tongue, all kinds of ways. My dad was getting it in a number of different ways. So for about a month, he just… cut back on how much he was taking and pretended he wasn’t in agonizing pain. And I helped him keep track of the extra stock.”

She took a deep breath and ruffled her hair. “My mother didn’t know what we were up to. I couldn’t tell her, she… she and Carver were in denial about his prognosis. They thought… Andraste’s tits, I don’t know what they thought. That he wasn’t dying, I suppose. But they didn’t know he was planning this, or they would have tried to stop him. So once he’d stored up enough lyrium to end it all, we chose a day when they were both out running errands, and he just… started taking all of it. The pills, the sublingual tabs, everything.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “By the time Mother and Carver came back, he was gone.”

“So they thought you had done it,” Fenris said quietly.

Rynne nodded. “I was there. The empty blister packs and everything were there. My mother…” She laughed and shook her head. Maker’s balls, her mother had completely lost her shit. Screaming that Rynne had murdered Malcolm, that she would never forgive her, that she hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye…

It didn’t bear thinking about. Rynne shoved the memory away. “She called the police. Carver was too upset to stop her. I mean, I don’t know if he would have stopped her anyway. He’s still pretty mad at me.” She shrugged. “Cullen eventually got wind of the situation and offered to help me out like the obnoxiously good person he is. And that’s my tragic little backstory.” She chuckled weakly.

Fenris was silent for a long time, and Rynne twisted her fingers together as she waited for him to respond. There was one last piece to the story, one that gnawed at the inside of her stomach to this day - not because of the truth of it, but because nobody else knew, not even Piper. No one else knew except for Cullen, who had counselled her not to tell anyone.

Finally Fenris sighed. “Hawke, I… don’t know what to say.”

She shrugged and gave him a wry little half-smile. “It’s all right. It’s pretty heavy shit to share at a party.”

He frowned slightly at her. “No,” he said. “It’s not all right. It… it is as you said. It sucks.”

Rynne smiled more broadly, then laughed. “Are you reusing my words?”

He ran a hand through his snowy hair. “I… Yes, I am. I’m sorry. I am ill-equipped for this kind of… comforting.”

He did look rather discomfited, and for some reason, it made Rynne feel more comfortable. She relaxed against the balcony railing and gently bumped his shoulder with hers. “Don’t worry about it. It sucks, sure, but it was years ago. And Anders had it right - it was the best way for him to go without suffering.”

Fenris nodded and didn’t reply, and they stood in silence for a while.

Then Rynne spoke, very quietly. “Your former gang in Tevinter dealt in lyrium, didn’t they?”

Fenris nodded again. “Yes,” he said. “From mining to street dealing. We - they were involved in every part of it.” He clenched his jaw, and Rynne waited with bated breath until he spoke again.

“They tried to bring my sister into the business,” he said. “She - the others on Danarius’s staff - our house was used sometimes. My sister was naive, and they acted kind to her…” He trailed off and scrubbed an agitated hand through his hair.

“It’s okay,” Rynne said quickly. “You don’t have to talk about it.” He looked so angry and so sad, and her heart felt like it was swelling inside her rib cage, and this was not how she’d expected this party to go.

He shook his head roughly. “It was my fault,” he snapped. “I exposed her and my mother to the lyrium trade. It came into the house because of me. I was meant to protect them, and they’re both dead.”

Rynne’s eyes widened. His mother and his sister were dead? “Oh fuck,” she said. Without thinking about it, she grabbed his hand. “Fenris, I’m so fucking sorry.”

He squeezed her fingers hard. “Lyrium is a sickness,” he told her. His voice was rough and deep and strained. “It’s a sickness, and I brought it into the house.”

She stared into his eyes. His deep, brilliant, angry, self-recriminating green eyes.

She desperately wanted to comfort him. To convince him that he wasn't a bad person. She opened her mouth. “I administered the last shot of lyrium to my dad,” she blurted. “He was too weak to do it himself, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch him suffer. So I did it. I… I killed him.”

Fenris’s eyes widened. She smiled weakly. “Cullen is the only one who knows,” she whispered. “All the evidence was circumstantial, so he got me off the hook. But… I know the truth, you know? There was no choice. If I hadn’t, my dad would have lingered on for months longer. I had no choice.”

Fenris was still tightly holding her hand. His eyes were fixed on her face. She squeezed his fingers. “Do you think I’m a monster?” she asked.

He frowned. He released her fingers, then slowly lifted his hand toward her face.

Rynne held her breath as he hesitated. Then, carefully, so very carefully, he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“You are not a monster,” he said. He lowered his hand. “You don’t know what a true monster looks like.”

Rynne swallowed hard. Her cheek was tingling from the warmth of his thumb. “You’re not a monster, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she told him. “You’re perfect.”

Fenris’s eyebrows leapt high on his forehead, and Rynne flushed. Damn it, she thought. The word had slipped out before she could stop it. She dropped her eyes and laughed nervously, but before she could speak, Fenris chuckled as well.

“If that is what you think, then you must be quite drunk,” he said.

She glanced up at him. He still looked rather serious, but the corner of his lips was lifted in a hint of a smirk.

A wash of relief loosened her shoulders, and she laughed more genuinely. “Not nearly drunk enough for this conversation,” she joked. She jerked her head at the thumping party inside. “Want to head back in?”

He studied her for a moment, but his gaze was warmer somehow, warmer and more intense than before, and now Rynne found that she couldn’t look away.

Her heart was pounding in her throat. His fucking forest-green eyes were so beautiful. Finally he nodded. “Yes. Let’s go,” he said.

Rynne smiled and followed Fenris back towards the door. Perhaps this party wasn’t a total loss after all.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenris modern AU #damned spot #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

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