Never Have I Ever...

Fenris paced along the empty halls of the abandoned mansion, feeling the cold stone against the soles of his feet. The place had never felt safe, not once in the three years he had lived in it. Perhaps lived wasn't exactly the right word... survived – he survived in the mansion, nothing more. One day, if he ever managed to truly be free of Danarius, he could join a Dalish clan. The Dalish were truly the freest of elves, and he could find a place among them; Merill had suggested it to him once, and, despite her blatant stupidity when it came to blood magic, Fenris could admit the idea was tempting.

Yet, he stayed in the mansion. With its cold, dark, empty halls, broken crates, and an infestation of spiders; there wasn't any logical reason for Fenris to continue to reside in it when Danarius clearly had no intention of ever coming back. He was quite aware that it was a lonely existence, squatting in an abandoned slaver's den; waiting for the return of his former master so that he could have the opportunity to remove him of his unfeeling heart.

So yes, the mansion was very unpleasant, and Fenris couldn't really justify himself being there. It had one advantage, however, being in Hightown meant he had at least one regular visitor. Alexei Hawke stopped by usually once a day, unless he had business outside of the city. Their conversations were often brief, and carried little substance, like 'yes, there were a large number of Tal-Vashoth on the Wounded Coast today,' and 'Aveline has a very strong fighting arm.' Nothing Fenris truly wanted to speak of, but it was enough to keep him content. He and Hawke had been developing a friendship inch by inch for three whole years, there was no need for Fenris to ruin it by throwing romantic feelings into the mix. It was unlikely Hawke would appreciate the affections of an ex-slave; although he was a kind man, he was also one of high standards... or so Fenris imagined, he had yet to see Hawke attempt to court anyone.

Fenris sighed, filled with the sudden compulsion to seek company. He wanted to find Hawke, and take comfort in his arms, but that was not an option. Slipping an extra blade into his boot, he made way for The Hanged Man; if he could not have Hawke, he could at least have wine.

*

As he arrived, he found Varric in the midst of telling an elaborate tale of how they had slain a dragon single-handedly on top of a mountain home to The Urn of Sacred Ashes. When he spotted Fenris, he quickly wrapped up his story, leaving the small crowd slightly disappointed.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite angst-ridden elf. Come for a drink?"

"Good-evening, Dwarf. Of course I've come for a drink, what else would you expect me to be doing here?" Fenris smirked, taking the seat opposite from him.

"Seeking a tavern-wench with a nice rack to share your bed?"

Fenris chuckled in slight amusement, "A nice rack, eh? I'm afraid that's not my preference, I'd be much more likely to pursue you – although I can't say I much favour short men either."

"For a second, I was almost flattered. Can't say I didn't see it coming though, even a fool could see you only have eyes for Hawke." Varric chuckled to himself, draining the last of his mug and signalling the bar servant for two more.

"I don't--"

"Lying isn't a healthy habit," Varric told him.

Fenris snapped his mouth shut, crossing his arms defensively. "There is nothing going on between me and Hawke."

"But you wish something was going on, don't you?"

"That is irrelevant, Varric."

"Okay, okay, I get the picture. Although maybe you should stop blushing so much, seeing at Hawke just walked in and he might be able to guess what you're so embarrassed about..."