He'd thought more than once about just blowing a hole in this wretched place, hopefully one decently close to either Kirkwall or Skyhold, so that he didn't have far to travel to find one of his beloved companions. He'd actually gathered his will once or twice, preparing to do just that, but common sense thwarted the actual execution of such magic; with his luck, it'd backfire and end up rendering him down for soup stock, instead.
His luck had been just that abysmal lately.
And although the temptation of trekking to the Black City - always just over the far horizon, blast it - and giving the Maker a few pieces of his mind loomed large a few times, but he really didn't want to end up like Corypheus, jaded, demonic, and just bad-tempered all around.
But he definitely wouldn't recommend this place as a vacation spot. Not in the least.
Although he did jerk up with a frown when he, at long last, heard an actual, real voice calling his name. Hawke frowned, scowling, but turned around and scrambled down from the boulder upon which he'd been "resting", squinting hard at the oddly familiar shape on the ridge about half a mile - as distances went in the Fade - and blinked. Several times.
And then his heart gave an abrupt, chilling lurch.
He quickened his steps when the man came down from his perch and seemed to be staring at him, reacting to him. It wasn't some fade dream or something messing with his mind for once. It was really him.
And Hawke had the audacity to sound... was that surprised?! Fenris his relief and anger in equal portions.
Still, he's trying to close the distance, but as much as he walks, it feels like it's not closing. Something else he noticed about this dammed place, eventhough he knew he was crossing the space, the world would warp and make it seem like it wasn't so.
"No, I am clearly a desire demon here for you in his visage," he calls out. "Yes, Hawke. Do not stand there and make me close this distance alone."
Holy fucking Maker... "Fenris!!" It was a glad cry this time, followed by a shout of hearty laughter and one Champion of Kirkwall sliding ungracefully down the rock face, waving his arms and yelling his bloody head off. The terrain, apparently taking exception to anyone's happiness, tried to keep shifting and wavering, but Malcolm Hawke's firstborn wasn't having any of that shit.
In the Fade, Hawke's magic was almost quadrupled in strength as it was in the waking world, and when he slammed the blade of his staff into the writhing ground with a definitive "Hah!", it seemed the shockwave rattled the entire realm. Cliffs collapsed, boulders bounced, but the plain stretching to the far horizon, and Fenris, obediently smoothed and became flatter than a griddlecake.
And across it galloped one Rowen Hawke, staff still in hand but his blue eyes blazing like twin sapphires, only dimmed by the brightness of his smile as he hurried towards his elven beloved.
The power of Hawke's magic took him by surprise, making him stumble and still for a moment. But it became apparent quickly what it was that his lover was accomplishing with such action and with a quiet smile, Fenris helped close the distance.
He needed to remember the color of his eyes, of his smile, of the brightness of his emotions. His champion, the man who saved him both body and soul, who loves him when Fenris still often feels unworthy of it. It mattered not in this moment because as he heard his lover's excitement, his heart filled with a unrepressed joy.
While rarely one for big displays of affection, Fenris did not hesitate to put his arms around his lover the second they were close enough and lift him in an embrace to remember his weight, his body.
"I knew you were not dead," he says softly, green eyes bright like moss in sunlight. "You are far too stubborn."
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no subject
Date: 2025-01-05 09:06 pm (UTC)His luck had been just that abysmal lately.
And although the temptation of trekking to the Black City - always just over the far horizon, blast it - and giving the Maker a few pieces of his mind loomed large a few times, but he really didn't want to end up like Corypheus, jaded, demonic, and just bad-tempered all around.
But he definitely wouldn't recommend this place as a vacation spot. Not in the least.
Although he did jerk up with a frown when he, at long last, heard an actual, real voice calling his name. Hawke frowned, scowling, but turned around and scrambled down from the boulder upon which he'd been "resting", squinting hard at the oddly familiar shape on the ridge about half a mile - as distances went in the Fade - and blinked. Several times.
And then his heart gave an abrupt, chilling lurch.
"...Fenris?!"
no subject
Date: 2025-01-07 10:37 pm (UTC)And Hawke had the audacity to sound... was that surprised?! Fenris his relief and anger in equal portions.
Still, he's trying to close the distance, but as much as he walks, it feels like it's not closing. Something else he noticed about this dammed place, eventhough he knew he was crossing the space, the world would warp and make it seem like it wasn't so.
"No, I am clearly a desire demon here for you in his visage," he calls out. "Yes, Hawke. Do not stand there and make me close this distance alone."
Or was Hawke not happy to see him..? Too bad.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-12 08:06 pm (UTC)In the Fade, Hawke's magic was almost quadrupled in strength as it was in the waking world, and when he slammed the blade of his staff into the writhing ground with a definitive "Hah!", it seemed the shockwave rattled the entire realm. Cliffs collapsed, boulders bounced, but the plain stretching to the far horizon, and Fenris, obediently smoothed and became flatter than a griddlecake.
And across it galloped one Rowen Hawke, staff still in hand but his blue eyes blazing like twin sapphires, only dimmed by the brightness of his smile as he hurried towards his elven beloved.
"--Fen...holy Maker, Fenris!"
no subject
Date: 2025-02-03 04:58 pm (UTC)He needed to remember the color of his eyes, of his smile, of the brightness of his emotions. His champion, the man who saved him both body and soul, who loves him when Fenris still often feels unworthy of it. It mattered not in this moment because as he heard his lover's excitement, his heart filled with a unrepressed joy.
While rarely one for big displays of affection, Fenris did not hesitate to put his arms around his lover the second they were close enough and lift him in an embrace to remember his weight, his body.
"I knew you were not dead," he says softly, green eyes bright like moss in sunlight. "You are far too stubborn."