#sigi/fenris

[queen-scribbles]

I don't know how Heaven, Heaven, Could be better than this --- Pardon me while I do some joyful screeching over this insanely perfect commission I got from @harumeau​ of Sigi and Fenris being snugglebugs. It’ll take approximately two more hours and a mabari tongue bath for either of them to be ready to get up. 😂

[cobaltash]

Sigi Hawke, tired as all hell, nodding off on Fenris’ shoulder after getting back from her long journey to Weisshaupt.

Sigi Hawke belongs to @queen-scribbles! (I know I said I’d only do 4, but this was such a sweet moment I wanted to make it happened XD)

[queen-scribbles]

I have no explanation other than Vibes, but Memory Lane by Old Dominion feels like a Sigi/Fenris song for that weird broken-up-but-not-really phase.

[queen-scribbles]

What I wish could be my secondary Dragon Age canon in that picrew

Trinne Amell ∙ Sigi Hawke ∙ Jow- Levyn Trevelyan

[queen-scribbles]

-kicks down door- I follow you because you're REALLY GREAT AND I ALSO LOVE SIGI HAWKE!

awww thank you!

Sigi is pretty cool, and it was very fun to play a Hawke who was just done with everyone's shit after my canon run with Astrid where she was bending herself into pretzels trying to help everybody.

Also, a blunt/gruff Hawke who gets all sweet and stumbley-awkward with Fenris? 10/10 would recommend.

Anyway, thank you, I'm glad you love my girl. <33333

[queen-scribbles]

Ooooh, may I request 33 from the hand-holding prompts? That's so cute. Any couple you want to talk about because frankly I love all your characters.

33. bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

Have some Sigi/Fenris, bc for a fluff writer I sure love mining that awkward, complicated period between Acts 2 and 3 for them :3

----

After everything they'd dealt with at Chateau Haine, the last thing Hawke wanted on the journey back to Kirkwall was an encounter with bandits. She couldn't say it surprised her; the woods and roads around Kirkwall were lousy with their ilk, from the desperate to the vicious. And she did have to admit, two travelers with no guard to speak of would make a tempting target, indeed.

Especially when it appeared only one of them was armed. There wasn't much that could hide Fenris' sword, but Hawke's axes were hidden under her cloak, giving the impression she was defenseless. It was the bandits' own poor planning that they ran with that impression, confidant enough in seven on two odds to spring an ambush.

It did not end well for them. Hawke was armed, of course, and tired, and utterly not in the mood for this shit. At least rag tag bandits were an easier fight than a bloody wyvern. And whatever... complications might exist between them, she and Fenris made a damn good team.)

"You alright?" she asked in the aftermath, nudging over a bandit with her boot to make sure he was actually dead, only half-looking at Fenris as she wiped blood off her axe blades.

"For the most part," Fenris said dryly. There was a sucking sound as his sword came free of a bandit's chest. "And you?"

"Unscathed and grumpy. What d'you mean 'for the most part'?" Hawke demanded. She wheeled to face him, heart in her throat as she raked a cataloging look from his head to his feet. There was nothing grievous that she could see, no bloodstains seeping through his armor.

In answer Fenris held out his hand to exhibit the scarlet line across his palm, smooth and clean, running just above his thumb to the base of his little finger.

Her brow furrowed as she examined the injury. "Maker's breath, Fenris, what did you do; grab a blade?!" she grumbled, scowl deepening when he didn't answer beyond a shrug. "That's nasty enough to fester if we leave it open." She jerked her head toward a nearby boulder. "Sit. I'll see what I can do..."

Fenris bristled slightly as her tone, but held his tongue as he sat. "It's hardly a mortal injury, Hawke."

Hawke arched a brow as blood dripped off the edge of his hand. They should've traveled back with Bethany's templar escort. Her sister was a fair hand at healing, if it would have been necessary in the first place. A large group--of templars, no less-- would have deterred an attack in the first place. But she'd wanted time with Fenris, even complicated as things were--

"There was a moment when I... Don't do that again."

--And he'd gotten hurt. Not badly, thank the Maker, but still... It wasn't the rush of battle that had her heart pounding in her chest. She should hate feeling this way, he was the one who left, but Andraste save her, she didn't.

Couldn't.

"Better safe than sorry," was all she said, biting back panicked concern with a tight jaw, trying to scold herself back to rationality as she tugged out a wadded rag and small roll of bandages. It really isn't that bad. "Stop the bleeding."

Fenris took the proffered rag, studying her as he held it to his palm. "Are you certain you're unhurt?"

Hawke nodded, staring at his hand, the crimson leeching into the rag, rather than meet his gaze. "Few bruises, maybe, but we dealt with them before anyone could do serious damage."

Several moments' silence passed as Fenris staunched the bleeding and both struggled for something safe to say. Finally, though, no fresh well of blood followed when he pulled the cloth away. Hawke cleaned off what had begun to dry and then cradled his hand gently in hers as she began to wind the bandages.

His skin was warm, and without the gauntlets she could almost feel the lyrium humming. It made something inside her twist and ache, remembering those hands on the curve of her waist, his thumb brushing her lip, tender fingers carded through her hair, pulling her in close--

Stop. Too late. Her breath caught and she focused very carefully on ensuring the bandages laid properly. Tight but not too much so. Smooth so there were no wrinkles to dig into his skin. She tucked the end under and was technically done. But her hand remained half-curled around his, her thumb rubbing along the side of his knuckle.

What had her heart in her throat and hope in her chest was Fenris didn't pull away.

They sat there a long moment, silent, barely daring to breathe, as her thumb rubbed back and forth and his fingers curled in at her touch. The spell of the moment broke when her hand shifted, fingertips brushing the red bound round his wrist.

Fenris withdrew his hand and coughed slightly as he flexed his fingers. "I... Thank you."

"It's too much... I cannot... do this."

Hawke made sure anything too raw was safely tucked away before she raised her head to meet his gaze. Her wry smile still felt too vulnerable, like something lingered for him to see. "You're, ah, you're welcome." She curled her own hands into fists as she pushed to her feet. "Thank you for having my back. Both now and back there." A vague gesture toward the mountains surrounding the chateau.

Fenris gave her an inscrutable look as he nodded and stood to sheathe his sword. "Always."

Despite her best efforts, that one word rattled in her mind until buried in the overwhelming din of Kirkwall's streets.

It made her smile much longer longer than that.

[queen-scribbles]

Things Best Unsaid

I didn’t intentionally write this for DA2′s birthday, but the timing did work out pretty well. :D Thus, ~3k of Fenris POV from Sigi dueling the Arishok + the aftermath.

---

“I accept.” 

Fenris’ heart squeezed in his chest as Hawke’s voice rang out, unflinchingly confident. She flung the words back at the Arishok as if she were the one issuing a challenge.

From the Arishok’s satisfied smile, it was clear how he expected this to go. A lone human woman, no matter how respected, no matter her reputation, seemed no match for the towering qunari leader.

Fenris could count the beats of his pulse hammering in his ears as he and the others herded the surviving nobility up to the balconies, out of harm’s way. He ached to draw his sword and demand to fight instead, but he knew he could not.

The Arishok would not allow it-- Hawke alone was basalit-an.

Hawke would not allow it--she hated when others tried to fight her battles for her.

So he stood with arms crossed and shoulders hunched between Sebastian and Isabela, tried to ignore Merrill’s quiet fretting, and kept his gaze fixed on Hawke.

If she was at all worried about the duel, it didn’t show in her stance. She stood with the same casual wariness that marked the outset of any fight; ready for whatever came but content to let her opponent make the first move.

And the Arishok obliged. He barreled toward Hawke with a roar, large blades sweeping in tandem arcs.

Hawke waited until the last possible second to dance out of the way, her own hooked axes now in hand. She pivoted as the Arishok’s charge carried him past her and dug one deep in his back below the shoulder.

The Arishok spun with a snarl and swung at her again, the way one might bat at a stinging fly. She dodged the first strike, but the second caught just at the edge of her shoulder.

Fenris sucked in a sharp breath watching her stumble and scramble back out of range, crimson spreading down her arm. Isabela nudged him reassuringly--or, he assumed that was the intention--but he didn’t even glance her way.

Hawke was retreating, eyes on her opponent as she darted backwards. She’d never seen shame in running away, especially when she could use it to make her surroundings work in her favor.

Even as the Arishok pursued her, she dodged around a pillar to gain some distance putting her superior agility to use.

“Ebost issala!” he spat, nostrils flaring and one blade rising as he charged again.

Fenris’ jaw clenched, heart lodged in his throat, despite his familiarity with Hawke’s skill in battle.

She dodged under the swinging blade and slashed open the inside of the Arishok’s elbow, then let their momentum carry them away from each other. She wove between the pillars again, clearly anticipating another bullrush from the qunari leader.

It came only a few seconds later, and the throne room seemed to shake when he missed and slammed into a wall. “Ashkost kata!” the Arishok snarled as he wheeled to charge her again. His battleaxe was extended in front of him, prepared to skewer this human who had the temerity to defy him and survive so long.

Again, he bore down on her. Again, she waited to dodge. Again, fear clawed the breath from Fenris’ lungs.

And this time she was just a little too slow. 

While Hawke managed to spin away from the main thrust and avoid being impaled, the blade did gouge through armor and flesh both. A collective gasp rose from all the onlookers--save one. Fenris’ teeth were clenched so tightly it made his ears ring, fingers digging into his arms as he struggled to hold himself back from joining the fight.

She can be as furious at me as she likes, if it means she survives.

But Hawke kept her feet, though staggering, and grinned fiercely at the Arishok even as his eyes blazed with fury. “Come on, then,” She goaded, circling like a panther even as the bloodstains on her armor grew.

Part of Fenris wanted to call encouragement, show his faith in her. Part longed for her to be more cautious. Part knew better than to distract her, and all of him was too tense to get the words out if he had settled on a course of action.

The Arishok was too enraged to do anything but succumb to Hawke’s prodding. He bellowed as he charged toward her once more, swinging one of his blades in a brutal arc meant to end this--and anyone in its path.

Hawke ducked, and the fearsome blade lodged in the pillar behind her instead. She swiped at the Arishok with one of her axes and opened a shallow gash across his chest.

The Arishok gave another bellow and yanked on the trapped weapon, swinging his other battleaxe at Hawke as he worked to free it. The point rattled and rasped as it scraped over the front of her armor, but she’d backpedaled far enough it did no real damage.

She leapt up, stepped on the trapped blade, pushed off that and then the Arishok’s pauldron to propel herself away. She faltered slightly on the landing, one hand flinching toward her wounded side as she grimaced.

Despite the way his heart pounded, Fenris couldn’t help a small smile when he saw her mouth a silent curse before zeroing back in on her opponent.

The Arishok finally yanked his battleaxe free, leaving a large divot in the pillar, and whipped around to face Hawke. He launched himself toward her with a roar.

Hawke gave her axes a flourishing twist and darted aside. She didn’t entirely avoid the attack--one blade grazed her thigh and Fenris bit his lip when the wound blossomed scarlet--but it did far less damage than intended. And before the Arishok recovered his balance, she was behind him, hooked axes plunging into the hollows of his collarbone. He snarled and tried to jerk free. She dug the blades deeper with a savage yell.

The Arishok swayed, then wrenched around and grabbed her by the hair. He growled as he flung her into a tumble across the room, her axes clattering to the floor. 

Fenris bit his lip harder to keep her name from spilling out.

The Arishok’s shoulder heaved in great, angry breaths as he glared after her, his back to the balconies. And then his weapons clattered to the floor as Hawke pushed up to a crouching stance. A murmur rippled through the air, uncertainty shifting to hope.

Snarls of red-brown hair hung in Hawke’s face now, blood trickled from her lip, but she still looked every inch the predator. Her hand darted to the small knife at the back of her belt.

The was a rasp growing in the Arishok’s breath, a wet snarl escaping as he stumbled to one knee. “We... we shall return-”

Hawke’s hand flashed forward, the deftly-thrown knife snapping the Arishok’s head back when it slammed into his eye socket.

“Excellent shot,” Sebastian murmured approvingly, and Fenris smirked as the knot in his chest started to loosen.

Hawke staggered to her feet as the qunari leader  fell splayed over the steps.  “You won’t,” she panted, raking hair out of her eyes to stare down the remaining qunari.

They did not look happy with the outcome, but after a protracted moment glaring back, the ashaad nearest Hawke jerked his head toward the door and his few brethren followed the wordless command.

Fenris took what felt like--and may have been--his first full breath since the Arishok issued his challenge watching them go. His arms were stiff with lingering tension when he dropped them.

The movement caught Hawke’s eye and she flashed him a smirk. Despite her bravado, her posture was tense, hands balled into loose fists,weight balanced subtly on her uninjured leg. He moved like a wraith through the crowd of milling nobles, skirting the banister and rushing down the stairs with Merrill and Sebastian in his wake. His gaze remained on the departing qunari, wary even though he knew they would honor the Arishok’s terms.

Jangling armor broke the breathless silence, Meredith and Orsino slowing as they entered the room. Meredith’s sword came up at the sight of qunari, and they reached for weapons in response--

“Don’t.” Hawke’s voice rapped through the air. “It’s over.”

“Over?!” Meredith demanded glaring at the qunari though she addressed Hawke.

“Over,” Hawke repeated. “We had an agreement.” She jerked her chin toward the slain Arishok. “They’re leaving. Without further bloodshed.”

Now Meredith wheeled to aim her glare at Hawke, her gaze rife with arguments.

“For the good of the city,” Hawke said firmly, glaring right back as the nobles clustered and spilled down the stairs. Fenris shifted closer to her.

The women held each others’ gaze a long, tense moment as the qunari filed out. Meredith didn’t relent until the last one had gone.

“Very well,” she ground out, and sheathed her sword. She took in the scene; the Arishok’s corpse, Hawke’s injuries, the near-rapturous way the nobles were eyeing the battered woman before her and nodded with grudging respect. “It would appear Kirkwall has a new champion.”

The tension finally, fully drained from the room as the nobles erupted into cheers.

Hawke indulged their relief for a few minutes, her hand resting on Fenris’ arm when he stood next to her, but the set of her jaw made it clear pride and determination were just about all that kept her on her feet. In short order, she gave a final wave of acknowledgement to their accolades and headed for the door with a just noticeable limp.

Fenris followed close on her heels, was there to catch her arm when she swayed just outside the keep. “Hawke-”

“That went well,” she cut him off, inhaling a sharp breath as she leaned against the wall. “Considering.”

“I’ll get Anders,” Merrill volunteered, starting for the steps.

“No,” Hawke ground out, even as she clutched her wounded side. “People will need him with... with all this.” She gestured at the rising smoke and what destruction was visible from the courtyard.

“You need him,” Fenris growled. Damn her stubbornness, anyway.

She shook her head, brown eyes flashing. “No. None of these are deep enough to need magic for healing,” she said through gritted teeth. “Stitches will do.”

“Then allow me to assist.” The words escaped before he could stop them(not that he could swear he would have).

The beat of hesitation, vulnerability flickering through her eyes, cut deeper than any physical blade. Even if he understood. Especially because he understood.

But then she nodded, once, a brittly sharp motion. “Long as you know what you’re doing?” 

He heard the layers, knew what he risked tearing open, for both of them, beyond the confirmation of ability. “I do.”

I should have stayed. But it was too late for that now. The most he could do was help.

“...Alright.” Hawke pushed away from the wall, froze, and one hand jerked to her belt. “Shit. My axes-”

“I have them, Hawke,” Sebastian assured her, holding out the weapons.

Hawke took them with a grunt of thanks, her movements stiff. “I’ll be fine.” She nodded toward the burning city again. “See what you can do to help.”

“Aye,” Sebastian nodded, in the same moment Merrill piped up, “We will, Hawke.”

“Good thing my house isn’t far,” Hawke commented as she watched them depart. “You won’t have to help me long.”

“It would be no trouble,” Fenris said softly.

Hawke sighed and flashed him an inscrutable look as she leaned on him.

They made their way to her estate in silence, exhaustion giving an excuse to mask any awkwardness. Hawke refused to accept much help besides the stairs, and Fenris struggled with the urge to just carry her every time she bit her lip or her fingers dug into his arm.

Grizzly greeted them with enthusiasm as soon as they opened the door, which Hawke returned with head scratches and cooed praise for protecting her house and its occupants.

Orana peeked out of the library and gasped. “Oh, mistress, you’re hurt!”

“Orana, I’ve told you-” Hawke cut herself off with a sigh and shake of her head. “Could you- Are Bodahn and Sandal with you in there?”

Orana nodded, eyes still wide as she stared at the blood. “Bodahn’s trying to get his boy to sleep, mist-- Hawke.”

“Damn,” Hawke sucked her teeth a moment, swaying into Fenris’ shoulder.  “Could you please bring supplies for patching up to my room?”

Another nod, steadier, as Orana clasped her hands in front of her. “Of course. Will you need my help, mistress?”

One side of Hawke’s mouth curved in the faintest of smiles. “No.” She glanced at him. “I have all the help I need.”

For some reason, the words made his gut clench even more than watching her fight the Arishok had, and Fenris didn’t really want to dwell on why. He nudged her toward the steps. “Hawke...”

“No need to coddle,” she muttered.

Irritation spiked, but he bit his tongue as she started up the steps. Her fingers were white-knuckle on the banister a third of the way up. By halfway, he could hear her breath hissing between her teeth.

“Enough of this,” he growled, and scooped her off her feet.

“Fenris!” She glared at him, hand balled into a fist as it pressed against his armor. “Put me down! I’m injured, not an invalid, I am capable of walking!”

“If you do not let people help you, injured may turn into being an invalid,” he shot back. 

Hawke glared at him a moment longer, jaw clenched, before relenting. “Fine.”

It didn’t take long to reach her room, and he gingerly set her on the bed.

“I’m not made of glass, Fenris,” she grumbled as she tugged off her gauntlets.

“But you are injured, as you yourself pointed out,” he said, a knot snarling in his chest at how cautiously she moved. He shucked his own gauntlets and set them on the bedside table next to hers. “And I’d not cause you any unnecessary pain.”

Beyond what I already have.

Hawke was quiet a long moment, jaw working as she swallowed at least one sharp comment. “Then... could you help with my boots? Please?”

“Of course.” Fenris bent and helped slide off her boots, then wordlessly moved to the buckles of her armor.

She stiffened, staring at the wall, but didn’t fight him. A sharp breath escaped her when she raised her injured arm out of his way, and Fenris hurried so she could lower it again.

By the time her leathers were removed and piled in a chair, Grizzly was curled on the rug to keep watch and Orana had brought the requested supplies; warm water, rags, salve, bandages, catgut thread and a needle. 

Fenris glanced at the supplies, then Hawke’s injuries. “Which one first?”

“Shoulder,” she said without hesitation. “Hurts like the bloody Void.” With only some difficulty she worked off her shirt, tugging the fabric away from injuries with ginger fingers. Her head snapped up to meet his gaze when he started to protest. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He shut his mouth with a click under the challenge of her tired, whiskey-brown eyes. “As you wish,” he finally murmured, and set about cleaning away the blood. Up close, this one was surprisingly nasty and it did seem wise to tend it first.

Silence filled the room as he worked, broken only by the crackling fire and occasional huff from Grizzly as he shifted position. Exhaustion, uncertainty, and a myriad of other things made the prospect off conversation a daunting one, and neither was eager to open that jar of worms right now.

So Fenris focused on the stitches, keeping them secure and even, pretending he didn’t see her grip tightening on the edge of the bed with each stitch. Hawke didn’t emit as much as a whimper as he worked. Her gaze never left the wall until he’d tugged the last stitch into place and reached for the salve and bandages.

“You do know what you’re doing,” she commented, upon peeking at his handiwork.

His lips twitched toward a smile as he gently spread a layer of salve over the stitched wound. “I would not have offered otherwise.” He nudged her arm up with the back of his hand, heard her breath catch in the same moment his heart skipped a beat, pushed through to begin winding bandages around her shoulder.

Hawke bit her lip as she watched him. “When did you learn?”

“After I... ran.” The Fog Warriors had imparted a few things, and he’d gotten practice in a variety of places. “It is something you pick up quickly when you are... unsure who to trust.”

“I imagine so,” she said softly. “Leg next. This one’s not as deep.” Her fingers flexed against the rag she held to her midriff. “You can just cut or tear the trousers, they’re beyond repair anyway.”

From the amount of blood that had soaked the fabric around this wound, he had to agree. “Very well.”

She leaned back against the pillows, swinging her leg up on the bed as he cut away the pant material. After a moment’s internal debate, Fenris surrendered to the inevitable and knelt next to the bed for the best angle stitching this one. Again they were silent while he worked, though Hawke did suck in a few harsh breaths as he progress up toward her hip.

He didn’t dare wonder if it was pain or something else to blame.

Finally all that remained was the gash on her stomach. It was, as she’d claimed, not as deep as the other two, and had largely ceased bleeding. It was still the most difficult to tend, for reasons quite aside from skill.

They both caught a sharp breath when his fingers brushed her side. Fenris swallowed hard, saw her do the same.

It’s fine. I am simply helping a friend. Never had his thoughts seemed such blatant lies. He hesitated, and Hawke shifted.

“I can have Orana-” she began, but he shook his head.

“No.” He raised his head to meet her gaze, saw the walls barely holding... everything at bay in her eyes, and returned to the freckled skin around this last wound. “I said I would help, and I shall.”

“If you’re sure.” Hawke voice was rough and her posture still tense.

“I am.” He took needle and thread in hand, loosely rested his other hand on her hip to steady them both.

These stitches were less even, though no less secure, and his hands trembled  as he carefully wound the bandages. Tight enough to protect, loose enough they wouldn’t cause further harm.

“Thank you,” Hawke whispered as he stood. “I appreciate you... your help.”

He stood there a moment, many things he wanted to say warring for release, but none succeeded. “...You are most welcome,” he said instead, unable to resist tucking her hair behind her ear. A bruise was blossoming on her cheek. Hawke’s eyes fluttered closed and he withdrew his hand swiftly. “Is there anything else you need?”

She flashed a smile that was plainly forced, even with its brevity. “Just fresh clothes and sleep. Orana can help for those, though.” Her jaw tightened and she stared into the fire. “You don’t have to stay.”

I want to. The words made it to the tip of his tongue before they stuck, caught on pride or remorse or something else. He’d given up that right. It wasn’t his place, by his own choice. A choice he was no longer certain had been the right one. But it was the one he’d made, the one he’d needed to make, and he would accept what that meant. For both their sakes.

So he nodded, heart squeezing when her shoulders slumped just perceptibly. (Or did he imagine that?) “Sleep well, then, Hawke. I...” This much he could say. “I am glad you are alright. Relatively speaking.”

She laughed softly at his deadpan addendum and finally met his eyes. “As am I.”

With too much and no more to say, Fenris gave another nod and collected his gauntlets, pulling them back on as he headed out into the street. At least the chaos there he could do something to fix.

[queen-scribbles]

An Early Start

For the @dapromptexchange Winter fill-a-thon, I give you these two prompts, which dovetailed nicely and were entirely too fun to write.

f!Hawke/Fenris, post-DA2, ~2k words

----

It was an easy thing to make plans. Bellies full, fire roaring, map spread out between them as they plotted the progress they could make with an early start. They even had the best of intentions to keep those plans, early start and all.

But it was another matter altogether to follow through in the grey morning light, fire burned down to embers and her breath fogging the air. Especially with both the heavy quilt and the body pressed against her back doing such a fabulous job keeping her warm. She instinctively shifted, just a little, to settle closer against the heat source.

Fenris must have noticed the change, however slight, and his grip around her midriff tightened. “You’re awake,” he mumbled into the curve of her neck.

“So’re you,” Hawke murmured, running her fingers lazily along his forearm, circling the ticklish spot on the back of his elbow.

“We should get up.” His breath hitched, then tickled her shoulder in retaliation. “If we want to be on our way...”

“Mm...” He was right, but she was so comfortable, and they’d hardly set their plans in stone. “Five more minutes w’ll be okay...”

Fenris chuckled and kissed the nape of her neck just below the hairline. “I thought we wanted an early start.”

She dragged her toes up his shin. “If we leave too early there might still be trouble on the road....”

It was a flimsy excuse and they both knew it. Even individually they were capable of handling whatever “trouble” might linger, together it would be--at worst--little more than an annoyance. But he was kind enough or comfortable enough(likely both) to not say so aloud. Instead another quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he hugged her closer.

“Five more minutes,” he agreed, his fingers idly tracing one of the scars on her stomach.

And so they dozed, enjoying the warmth of each others’ company and dreading the chill of those first few moments after throwing back the covers. Neither kept careful track of the time, and it was definitely more than five minutes if the increased daylight was anything to go by before they stirred again.

Hawke grimaced and this time she was the one to make the suggestion. “We sh’d get up...”

But Fenris’ arms tightened around her as she moved to push away and the small bit of cold air that breached the covers had her burrowing back in and snuggling against him as he mumbled “five more minutes” into her hair.

“Soun’s good to me...” she said, and tucked herself closer under his chin.

The next definitely-more-than-five-minutes later found Grizzly just settling in across their feet, and if the happy dog sigh wasn’t enough of an excuse, the hundred and fifty pounds of mabari now pinning them to the bed was.

Three more attempts and flimsy excuses later, Hawke finally succeeded in dragging herself upright. Fenris’ arm was still loosely around her waist, along with the bunched up quilt, and she nearly retreated to the promised warmth as goosebumps rose on her arms.

You’ll adjust, she told herself firmly, and slid from the bed with one faint shiver.. A glance out the inn’s window at the sky showed their initial ‘five more minutes’ had snowballed into roughly three hours’ delay, she’d guess. Gathering her hair into a messy bun so she wouldn’t have to deal with its tangled state, Hawke nudged Fenris’ shoulder. “Come on, sleepyhead.”

He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, mumbling something into the pillows.

Hawke chuckled wryly. “My sentiments as well, love,” she said, wriggling into trousers and trying to smooth the wrinkles from her shirt. “But we’ve already lost our early start, and I’d hate to squander the whole day.” She plunked back down on the bed and ran her fingers through his hair. “We need to get going.”

“If you wish for me to get up, what you’re doing is very counterproductive,” Fenris informed her, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Well, in that case...” She gave his hair a final ruffle and tugged the quilt to halfway down his back as she stood. “Time to get up. If I had to do it, so do you.”

He gave a muffled grunt of disgust that echoed her own feelings on the matter and she smiled as she dug through their packs.

“Come on, we’ll have to eat a quick meal if we want to make up some lost time.” Hawke tossed a shirt toward the bed and kept looking for the rations. “Maybe even as we walk. Don’t make me have Griz kiss you.”

There was another grunt at her threat, a mumble she was almost certain was a Tevene oath, and Fenris dragged himself upright with reluctance at least the equal of hers. 

“Hardly fair,” he said archly, his voice still rough with sleep, as he stretched to reach the shirt and pull it on. “Considering you were responsible for our initial delay.”

“Yes, but I also got up, eventually, of my own volition,” Hawke countered. Her fingers closed around the small rough sack holding rations and she freed it, divvying up portions for each of them and tossing a piece of jerky to Grizzly as distraction while she packed it back up.

“I would have as well,” Fenris grumbled. He shoved his feet in his boots and ran a hand through his hair.

“After five more minutes?” Hawke asked pointedly, setting the food on the table so she could pull on her own boots.

“Says the pot,” Fenris returned just as pointedly, arching a brow but smiling ever so faintly.

She shrugged. “It’s chilly here, and the bed is warm.” Especially with you in it. “It’ll be easier once we’re somewhere warmer.” A beat. “Right?”

He gave a dry chuckle as he crossed the room. “If our habits are any indication, likely not.”

“Damn.” She knew he was probably right; even the most temperate days back in Kirkwall they’d been abysmal at rising early, an issue that had only worsened once they started sharing a bed, and then worsened further when it got cold.  “Well, eat up.” She nudged one portion of the food toward him and twitched his shirt collar straight as he leaned into her space to take it.

Fenris stilled at her touch, waited til she lowered her hand to pull away. Hawke brushed a light kiss against his cheek as he went.

He paused and kissed her in return, his free hand settling on her hip when both of them leaned into it. “Highly preferable to kisses from your dog,” he murmured with a smirk upon pulling back.

Hawke snorted and hooked her fingers behind his belt to tug him in for another kiss. “I should hope so.” She lightly dragged her teeth over his lower lip as she stepped back. “We really do need to be going.”

Fenris shook his head fondly and started eating as they pulled on coats and cloaks in preparation for walking in the cold. Hopefully they could make up some of the lost time, Hawke mused, giving a sharp whistle so Grizzly would follow.

There were, of course, more people on the road than there would have been had they started when intended. But it was hardly crowded or intense enough to slow them down, and the few travelers who marked their presence seemed to focus more on the mabari trotting at Hawke’s heels or the large sword across Fenris’ back than the two of them. Those being what people noticed had the added benefit of discouraging any who might have considered hassling them, which also helped with covering a good distance. Not quite what they’d wanted to cover, but they did make up some of what had been lost to the leisurely start. Tired but satisfied, they found a room at a decent and unobtrusive inn.

“If we can get ourselves up early tomorrow, I think we can make Markham by evening,” Hawke said as they started shucking outerwear on the way to getting comfortable. 

“A very large if, indeed,” Fenris deadpanned, shivering slightly at the lingering chill in the room not yet banished by the growing fire. “We’ll have to rise to the challenge.”

Hawke snorted, wobbling as she balanced on one foot to pull off her boot. “Was that a pun?”

“Not an intentional one.” From the way the corners of his mouth twitched, he wouldn’t be apologizing for it, though.

She rolled her eyes and dropped her daggers on the bed so she could remove her belt. “It’s your turn to see about dinner,” she reminded him as he pulled off his boots, and Fenris simply nodded before padding out of the room without bothering to put them back on. He returned shortly with two bowls of stew, and they enjoyed a quiet but hearty meal before crawling into the bed.

Any hope Hawke had entertained of doing better died a swift death when she half-roused in the ashen dawn light to Fenris once again coping with the chill by pulling her close as they slept. This time, she’d snuggled in with her head to his chest, tucked under his chin, and his arms loosely wrapped just below her shoulder blades.

We need to get moving, a little voice said in the back of her mind.

She knew that, but she could hear Fenris’ heartbeat like this, and she’d much rather listen to that than some internal busybody trying to pull her from the warmth. She snuggled in yet closer, draping an arm over his hip as she drifted back to sleep. They’d get up soon...

She jolted awake at a warm, wet sensation swiping up her face and instinctively pulled away and sat up. “What the-?!”

Grizzly gave a happy whine, followed by attempting to lick her face again.

Hawke pushed him away with one hand and raked hair out of her eyes with the other, gaze sweeping the room until she found Fenris--fully dressed-- seated in one of the chairs so his chest rested against the back. 

He was watching the scene between her and Griz play out with no small amount of amusement in the now-bright light. “Good morning.”

She glared at him, red-brown hair falling back in her eyes. “Bastard.”

“I did warn you,” he said with a hint of a smirk, seeming unaffected by her pique.  “And you were prepared to do the same to me yesterday.”

Hawke gave a grumbling grunt of concession to that point, but, “I didn’t hear any warning.”

“I gave one,” Fenris said, rising from the chair to come sit on the edge of the bed. He carded his fingers through her hair, somehow avoiding the knots that snarled it. “You must have replied half-asleep.”

“At least,” she said dryly as she stretched. “I was enjoying how cuddly you get when it’s cold, can you blame me?”

He chuckled. “No, I cannot. I was doing much the same.” He let his touch linger against her jaw for a moment, then withdrew. “Come, we should be on our way.”

This time it was her turn to dress hastily and eat as they walked. 

They had to push to reach Markham as intended, and didn’t make it until well after the stars had started coming out. They ducked into the first inn they found--a small and almost seedy establishment, but neither felt like looking for anything more reputable--and paid for a room. The “last available” and more than a little cramped for two people and a mabari.

“Good thing we’re only staying one night,” Hawke muttered, frowning at the interior. At least it looked clean, which was more than she could say for some places they’d stayed.

“Good thing we don’t mind... getting cozy,” Fenris added dryly as they both eyed the sole bed, wide enough for two, but only just.

Hawke snorted and tossed her cloak over the lone chair before turning to Grizzly. “You’re sleeping on the floor tonight, boy. That bed might break with all three of us.”

Grizzly huffed in what almost sounded like understanding and flopped down on the floor, drifting off immediately.

“I think you have the right of it,” Hawke muttered to the sleeping dog. Fenris scoffed in agreement and the two of them collapsed on the bed only a minute later, having removed just enough of their clothes to sleep comfortably. They snuggled close out of both habit and necessity, given the lack of room and chill in the air.

They didn’t even pretend they were going to try for an early start in the morning, and It would have been a lie if they had. So when Hawke finally stirred from her deep and dreamless sleep to find Fenris once again tucked close against her back, his arms around her waist and his breath tickling her neck, she relished the choice to just lay there and enjoy it. 

And as they continued northward into warmer climes, Fenris’ prediction was proven correct; they remained terrible at rising early. Even when lighter covers and the warmth of another body were almost stifling instead of enticing, the two of them never quite managed to rise before mid-morning. They might be awake--or sort of--but both Hawke and Fenris were all too happy to simply enjoy each others’ company in the comfort of their bed. Fingers traced scars, tattoos, freckles, hushed and lazy conversations were had, and neither was in any rush.

Grand plans were all well and good, but not every day needed an early start.

[queen-scribbles]

Tagged for another around of Picrew pairings by @undyingembers and @starsandskies so this time around

Silver/Coso(SWtOR)

Tel/custom!Elara(SWtOR)

Sigi/Fenris(DA2)

Astrid/Sebastian(DA2)

None of the “face paint” options looked right for Fenris’ tattoos, so I just left them off, and since there’s only one shade of red hair in this, Tel looks like a fricking Weasley. xD

[queen-scribbles]

Last round(for now?) with the Angel Dollmaker, Astrid and Sigi Hawke

[queen-scribbles]

Me: *has too many game characters already*

Me: *makes a new Hawke*

Me: *loves her so much I make a new Inquisitor to use her worldstate*

[queen-scribbles]

Hand Holding Prompts

Original Post

tiny hands in big hands [Adi/Heodan]

calloused hands in soft hands [Ves/Kurt]

cold hands in warm hands [Emiri & Edér]

hands with the perfect ratio to each other for hand-holding [Matthias/Aphra]

platonic hand-holding [Emiri & Edér]

running their thumb over the other’s hand [Evony/Bao Dur]

dancing with their hands holding onto each other [Astrid/Sebastian] [Indira/Vector]

squeezing hand for comfort and encouragement [Vikkari/Arueshalae]

holding hands across the table [Vikkari/Arueshalae] [Kazen/Elara]

happily doing everything with just one hand, if it means they don’t have to let go [Tighe/Cassandra]

not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd [Trick/Trouble]

possessive hand-holding [Kayris/Atton]

linking hands together during sex[Tragen/Jaesa]

taking hand to show them something [Endrali/Arcann]

loosely holding onto each other’s hands, laying in one’s lap [Cam/Liam]

only linking the pinkies together, not ready to let go completely[Ves/Kurt]

holding hands while skating [Annelise/Yacov]

excitedly grabbing each other’s hands during a concert, jumping up and down together

playing with each other’s fingers [Adi/Heodan] [Tragen/Jaesa]

pressing the other’s hand against their cheek [Endrali/Arcann]

holding hands while one is balancing on a small wall [Ves&Constantin]

grabbing the other’s hand to pull them back from something [Tavi/Aloth]

holding hands under the table [Emily/Kaidan]

only realizing it when they have to let go [Ves/Kurt]

standing in front of each other, holding both their hands [Jaaide/Theron]

holding their hands above their head, fingers linked together [Kasey/Mason]

passionate hand-holding [Vikkari/Arueshalae]

grabbing the other’s hand so they don’t fall [Mallory/Adam]

holding hands while running through the rain [Harvey/Trinne]

brushing against each other, linking fingers together for a second [Mallory/Adam]

grabbing their hand to grab their attention [Endrali/Arcann]

not really paying attention, both doing something else, but still holding hands

bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go [Sigi/Fenris] [Jael & Aeran]

holding hands while driving

grabbing the other’s hand to pull them back to them [Keme/Jorgan]

unconsciously searching out each other’s hand while sleeping [Keme/Jorgan]

not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out [AJ/Adam]

swinging hands back and forth, skipping like children

holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition [Ryn/Red] [AJ/Nate]

letting go when there is an obstacle in their way and immediately grabbing each other’s hand again when they pass it [Tragen/Jaesa]

loosely holding onto each other’s hand [Tragen/Jaesa]

dragging the other with them, holding their hand [Ryn/Red]

raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly [Endrali/Arcann]

holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together [Cam/Liam]

comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together [Janine/Felix]

I’m starting with the list bolded and will unbold as I fill them, but I’m perfectly happy to repeat along the way. :P Filled: 40/45

My OC page is really bare bones right now, but I’m pretty sure I have everyone I currently write on there.(You can send me other characters/pairings, as long as I’m familiar with the game, I just make no promises for any romances I haven’t actually played myself.)

[queen-scribbles]

Okay, tumblr did something weird with my contribution to @cobaltash‘s OC-tober event, so I’m just gonna repost it. :P

Midnight fill with Sigi Hawke bc she’s been buzzing around my brain a lot lately.

---

She really should be sleeping.

At various points in her life, Hawke had been nagged, teased, and fussed at by family and friends alike that the middle of the night was for sleeping. (Never Fenris, though. Not that his sleep schedule was any more conventional.) But midnight was hers. Time to savor the quiet and to think without being pulled in five different directions by people who needed her help. Midnight was her sanity, or at least how she kept it. Even on the nights she dwelt on things she shouldn’t. (A bottle in hand as “you’ve always made me so proud” rattled in her skull, unsure she believed it even now. An ache in her chest at the thought of longing green eyes.. The anniversary of Lothering.) But those were exceptions, not the rule.

She was always fighting, it seemed, for one reason or another. Much as she enjoyed a good scrap, heart pounding and blood on her knuckles, the easy quiet of late night was her favorite and she was always grumpy when she wasted it fighting damned regret.

Hawke leaned back against the rock that guarded her campsite, listened to the crickets and the crack of her dying campfire, and exhaled a breath that clouded her view of the stars.

There was a lot she could regret tonight, if she let herself. A lot that had gone wrong, that she could blame herself for to varying degrees. Only some would carry even a kernel of truth, and none of it could be changed now.

“So there’s no point dwelling on it,” she scolded herself aloud, fingering the woven bracelet--brown and red and green twisted together--around her left wrist. Even if she kept regret out of the picture, the past few months were rife with things to think about. Too much, really.

So she shoved aside what was behind her in favor of what was ahead. There was still an ache with that, but of absence, not regret. Thinking of what--who--waited at the end of the road made her all the more impatient to get there. His was the only company she’d never minded in her midnight solitude, maybe because he knew how (and when) to be bloody quiet.

You know, it’s a nice night. I could cover some more ground.

As midnight musings went, it was only slightly more out there than some she’d had. And the more she dwelt on it, turned it over in her mind, the more she liked it. There was, after all, no more risk in moving out here than there was in sitting still. Any progress toward home she could wring from the day was a good thing..

She had her camp half-packed and the fire smothered before the plan had really solidified. She chuckled as she finished the job. Absence might make the heart grow fonder, but clearly it also made it more impatient. Hawke shouldered her pack and started walking.

She wasn’t tired, anyway.

[queen-scribbles]

What’s this? Actual fic for Sigi and Fenris?

Will wonders never cease.

[queen-scribbles]

Have some assorted random facts about a handful of my OCs bc I’m worried I’ll forget them if I don’t share:

modern AU Sigi Hawke (DA2) would 

borrow Fenris’ t-shirts all the damn time(she says he can borrow hers right back, but they’re too tight in the shoulders for him)

eat cold Chinese/pizza for breakfast

Rhyler (ShoH) cut his hair when he joined the Shepherds, figuring a shorter style would be easier to keep out of the way in fights etc, but his hair grows so darn fast it kept getting shaggy and hanging in his eyes, so he just gave up and grew it back out to shoulder length. Now, at least, he can pull it back in a ponytail if he goes too long without a haircut.

Rue (A6) 

is a really, really good dancer

wants a bionic leg. Not in the sense that Rue in the game would list that as a goal in life, but the muse in my head, in a meta sense, thinks it would be pretty cool

Keme, Jaaide, and Tragen (SWtOR) all have their doubts Tenebrae is actually gone-gone. Keme and Jaaide aren’t Force-Sensitive and are just so used to him pulling BS “resurrections” they can’t quite believe he’s gone for good yet. Give it a few more years and maybe they’ll accept it. Tragen is Force Sensitive, just less than your average Jedi or Sith, and while he did to some extent feel the difference Lana/Satele etc talk about, it wasn’t as drastic a change for him and there’s this lingering tendril of foreboding that he can’t tell whether it’s just him being paranoid or if it Means Something.

[queen-scribbles]

Istg, I’m *this close* to writing Sigi and Fenris’ reunion after HLtA/Weisshaupt/etc bc it’s been two weeks since I finished that quest with Maren and I’m still thinking about them.

Totally not comparing it to my actual canon where Astrid never got home. No sir. That’s not happening and making me sad.🙃🙃