miss_m_cricket: (DA2: Fenris open)
[personal profile] miss_m_cricket
Title: Goodnight My Angel
Author: [livejournal.com profile] miss_m_cricket
Fandom: Dragon Age 2
Pairing: F!Hawke/Fenris (Rivalmance)
Comm: [livejournal.com profile] dragonage_kink
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Agressive! or Sarcastic!Hawke (preferably mage) has a very soothing singing voice. She sings lullabies to Fenris (rivalry romance) when he can't sleep.

Summary: Chance had freed him, but he had fought to keep that precious chance alive and now here he was, free and living in Kirkwall, with friends of all things.

Goodnight My Angel

Fenris never regretted fighting for his freedom from Danarius. Although he had not known the true extent of the Magister’s cruelty and depravity until time and perspective had revealed it to him, he had always felt an itch under his skin when he had been tied to the man. Even if his mind had not known what the other did was wrong, his heart, his soul had.

Chance had freed him, but he had fought to keep that precious chance alive and now here he was, free and living in Kirkwall, with friends of all things.

But everything has a price.

Away from the presence of Danarius, his mental manipulation and his cruelty, Fenris had found a whole new perspective on his life and what the magister had done to him. And although he was grateful to see the truth, he paid for it at night.

Nightmares, sleepless nights...he was haunted by Danarius and Hadriana. The phantom memories of rough abuse, of starvation, the burn of a whip against his skin. The fear, the ache of feeling like he was something useless...those things refused to leave him.

He knew Hawke watched him, knew she saw the dark circles under his eyes. His pride stopped him from asking the Abomination or her for something to help him sleep. He might not agree with Hawke, might not even like her methods, but he respected her, and the thought of her knowing that he was prey to this kind of weakness was intolerable.

But he did not expect her to take matters into her own hands. Which was foolish in hindsight. Hawke always took matters into her own hands.

It was late; the moon was high in the night sky. He should have been asleep hours previously, but the shores of sleep refused to wash closer and so he had lain awake in his bed, staring up at the patterns the cracks made on his roof.

He heard the door downstairs open and instantly he was on his feet, drawing one of his massive two handed blades and padding to the top of the stairs, clad as he was in only some loose soft sleeping pants, slung low on his hips.

But it was no intruder, merely Hawke, wearing a rich sleeping robe and with her dark hair tumbling about her face, leaning on her staff.

“Fenris...” She said, frowning up at him, “I saw your candle lit, don’t you know how late it is?”

“You too are awake.” He growled back, glaring at her, “What right do you have then to question my sleeping habits?”

“I got up to get a glass of water.” Hawke retorted, stalking up the stairs, ignoring his glare in that infuriating way she did. That glare had been designed to strip flesh from bone, to quail the most sadistic Magisters, but Hawke brushed it off like it was a mere inconvenience, “I’ve seen it for a while Fenris, you’re not sleeping.”

“It’s none of your business.” He grumbled, resignedly following her as she stalked her way into his bedroom, “Hawke, get out.”

“It is my business.” Hawke said, turning and jabbing her finger sharply into his chest, “You come with me on dangerous missions. And I don’t want a fighter so exhausted he can’t lift his sword.”

The elf just glowered at her, and folded his arms, aware suddenly that all he wore were those thin sleeping pants. His tattoos were revealed in all their sickening glory, glowing softly in the half-light. Suddenly he felt very vulnerable.

Something must have shown on his face because Hawke’s frown softened and her hand rose to brush her thumb against his cheekbone.

“Fenris...we might not agree, but you are a friend. I do not like to see you suffer so.”

“I do not think you can help me Hawke.” He sighed, and grudgingly added, “Though you are welcome to try.”

She smiled, and he found himself being coaxed back onto his bed, the candle being blown out, leaving them in the faint light of his Lyrium brands.

There was silence for a moment and then she lay down beside him, her long fingers slowly beginning to caress through his feathery silver hair. He stiffened at the unfamiliar sensation but as she continued the soothing strokes he found himself relaxing into her touch, eyes drifting closed.

So soothed was he by the feeling of gentle hands touching him, something he’d never experienced in his life before, he didn’t realise at first as Hawke began to sing. It was a lullaby, a mother’s song to her child, a loving song of someone cherishing the other.

He listened to her sweet unadorned voice in the darkness, and felt himself slowly start to drift asleep.

“Thank you...” he whispered, and as he fell asleep a single tear slid down from one closed eye.

Hawke knew the instant he fell asleep, his breaths evening out, his body relaxed and so trusting against her, but she continued singing, finishing the song.

”Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to dream. And dream how wonderful your life will be. Someday your child may cry and if you sing this lullaby, then in your heart there will always be a part...of me...”

Silence fell, but Hawke did not move until she was sure she could get up and leave without the flighty elf startling awake. Bending over to him she gently kissed his cheek, her lips pressing softly against that solitary tear trail.

Her heart full of a tenderness she had never felt before and never expected, Hawke left Fenris’ mansion.

They never spoke of it, but some nights Fenris asked Hawke to stay late to talk or play a card game and he would look at her pleadingly, the question he could not bring himself to ask shining in his eyes. And Hawke would stay, stroking his hair, and singing him to sleep.
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February 2012

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