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Dragon Age 2: The Kidnapping

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Title: The Kidnapping
Author: curls101
Game: Dragon Age 2
Pairing: F!Hawke/Fenris
Disclaimer: All rights belong to Bioware, I just have Rose :)
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Rose Hawke quietly closed the door to her mansion. Bodahn- her miracle working, dwarven butler- had taken his son Sandal out of town for a while to get supplies, but she still didn't want to wake Orana. After all, she'd been through hell, Hawke thought she deserved some sleep. She dramatically tiptoed through the foyer and up the grand, stone staircase into her bedroom, successfully looking like an idiot. Closing the door silently, she shook her head, wondering why she did childish little things like that. Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose and pushed her midnight hair away from her face in one fluid motion, flopping onto the bed as she did so. The mess with the Qunari was reaching breaking point, all she had to do was wait for the call for help when the Arishock inevitably decides to kill the whole city.

Hawke pulled her staff from the clasps on her back, twirling it like a baton between her slender fingers, then propping it against the wall beside her bed. For a moment, she froze, ready to catch it if it slid down the wall and hid down the back of her bed. Convinced her staff would remain where it was, Hawke removed the bulk of her armour, which others always said was far to heavy for her. She ignored them entirely; it was comfortable and flattering; why wouldn't she wear it? She threw open her wardrobe doors and skimmed her hand over the dresses within. Some had clearly been placed by Isabella, as the chest-line was dangerously low and the skirt deliberately high. Others were placed by her mother and would shout: "look, I'm a noble!" to anyone who glanced at her. Only a tiny fraction were her own, and they were the ones she wore the most. She hovered over a forest green dress Orana had given her. It was beautiful and didn't reveal anything, but it was so beautiful that she didn't want to waste it. She wasn't expecting guests but you never know when Isabella or Anders might drop in. Who knows, Fenris might even drop by! She instantly scolded herself for thinking of him, he had left her. He wasn't coming back. He would never come back, but no matter how hard she tried, her mind always wandered back to him. In the end, Hawke moved away from the green dress and her fingers felt velvet. She recognised the feel immediately, it was one of her favourite and most comfortable dresses. Hawke pulled the dress out of the wardrobe and held it against herself, seeing if it still fit in the mirror. It was a deep scarlet dress that came down to below her knee at the front, but touched the floor at the back. The sleeves were wide and straight out of a story book, even trimmed in black ribbon. It was perfect, if a little revealing of her legs. Admiring how well the dress fit in the mirror, Hawke did a little, girly twirl and giggled at her own childishness. She slipped on the red embroidered slippers she always wore and dramatically tiptoed back down the stairs, this time heading right into the library.

Hawke's favourite room in the entire estate was the library. It had a piece of all her friends within it, Ander's random notes in seemingly every book, Aveline's bottle of spirits she'd given her after her wedding, Varric's stories dotted around the shelves, even the bottle of wine Fenris had given her. Hawke scolded herself yet again: Don't think of Fenris. He's never coming back, Hawke, never.   Walking over to her desk, she aloud her fingers to skim to spines of the books. They were thousands of different colours, various ages and were about everything from cooking to complex combat strategies. If you needed it, Hawke would have it, somewhere. She felt the smile that crept over her face as she saw the worn leather cover of the journal Varric had given her years ago. It was a deep (if slightly faded) brown with a red rose coving most of it. It had never failed to take her breath away, even now, 5 years later.
"Something tells me you'll have a life worth writing, Hawke."
Varric had been right, the book was slowly nearing the end. She guessed it had about enough room for a year, maybe two if her handwriting suddenly became very small. Hawke scooped it up and curled up in her armchair next to the fireplace, drawing a blanket up around herself. She realised she had not made up a fire, but was far too comfortable to get up and make one. Grinning and ensuring the curtains were drawn, she clicked her fingers, causing a fire to spring into life. Magic may be a pain sometimes, but It was useful.

She opened the journal and her eyes caught glimpses of previous entries.  Nearly every day of her life had been documented within the pages, the day she arrived in Kirkwall, when she signed up for the expedition into the Deeproads, the day her brother abandoned her to hunt mages, even the day her Mother was murdered, but Hawke skipped those pages. She had tied the section shut with string ages ago, what had been written there was much too sad to re-visit. Finally, she reached a clean page. She always felt bad covering the perfect, cream pages with her messy handwriting. She poised her pen on the paper and begun scribbling down the day events. Not much had happened that day and it only covered half the page. Hawke wouldn't put two entries on the same page and leaving half of it would be a waste. She tried to think of something trivial to write about but nothing came to mind. Then, almost unknowingly, she began to write about Fenris.

I honestly don't know what to do about Fenris. If I need help, he'll help me. He won't let me do anything alone in case I run into trouble. I'm confused, he said that he didn't want this, that a relationship was too fast. I understand that, he's been through so much, sometimes I wish I could help him more.  I can't stand to be around him. I don't hate him, actually, it's quite the opposite. I miss him. I love him.

A strange shuffling sound came from the foyer, alerting Hawke to the fact that someone had just picked the lock on the front door. Isabella always picked the Library window, so it wasn't her. She looked around frantically, only to remember she had left her staff propped up against the back wall in her bedroom. Luckily, during her last argument with Fenris, she had wedged her dagger into the wooden desk. She gasped the red hilt and pulled it free, judging the steel blade to be exactly as sharp as  she had left it. That would have to do for now, she didn't trust her magic without her staff, it drained her energy too much.

Hawke rested her shoulder against the Library door and listened. The intruders had just made it through the foyer and were entering the hall in twos. By the sound of their footsteps, she guessed heavy armour. She couldn't recognise the language they were speaking, though there was a chance it was just muffled through the door. Taking a deep breath, she kicked the door open and took in what she saw. There were four of them in the room, more in the foyer. She was right, they all wore heavy armour and a helmet. As they turned to see her, she saw that the helmets looked like a man's face, dented into the armour with a hammer, a design she knew all too well. Tevinter Slavers. They were here for Fenris. They were here to kill him. Not if she had anything to do with it.

Using the surprise, Hawke threw her dagger at the nearest slaver, killing them outright. Suddenly, she felt something embed itself in her shoulder, making her reel back in agony. An archer stood at the top of the stairs looking happy for himself while the other 3 slavers descended on her. Hawke was determined not to be killed, or worse. She knew what what happen to her if she was captured. She knew what she'd become. One slaver charged at her, looking as if he was trying to knock her over, but she knew what he was really trying to do. He was forcing her to use her magic and it was working! The man was too far to attack with her fists, and besides, with that armour she wouldn't do much damage anyway. She felt the power pool in the palms of her hands, instinct was taking over where common sense normally was. Hawke couldn't help herself, she shot a bolt of lightning at the approaching slaver, sending it flying into the fireplace. There was no mistaking the fact he was dead.

While she had been focused on the charging slaver, the others had crept up on her. The electricity still sparked and crackled around her hands and she managed to pick off another two slavers before she felt her energy wane. There was too much magic involved without her staff and it was beginning to take it's toll.
"What..."
During the fight, she had completely forgotten poor Orana sleeping upstairs, the fighting had woken her up. She was dressed in her cream night-gown, and her blonde hair was hanging by her shoulders. Her narrow face had completely drained of colour, she'd had seen many of these in her life. She had just escaped slavery, she probably had nightmares of these men coming back for her.
"Orana go back to your room; lock the door; I'll handle this." she shouted over her shoulder as she tripped a slaver who had charged at her- badly.  Orana gave a shaky nod and ran back down the corridor.

She had barely enough time to turn back to the fight before she felt her right arm twist up her back, nearly forcing it to touch the top of her head. She felt the bones break and cried out in agony, using her left hand to fill the offending slaver with lightning. Killing him was satisfying, but the not-so optimistic part of her knew, she couldn't win this fight with a broken arm. She shot another three bolts of electricity, killing three more slavers, before the lightning around her left hand dissipated. Just like that, it was all over. She immediately felt the pommel of a dagger smash into the side of her face. She saw, but strangely didn't feel, herself fall to the ground, the cold stone pressing against her. The blood trickled slowly from her bottom lip and she had just enough time to mutter three words before she blacked out:
"Fenris, I'm sorry."

Meanwhile....

Face it Fenris, admit you want to go and see her.
Fenris paced back and forth by the fireplace. He'd been resisting the call of the wine for hours, his overwhelming obsession with keeping his distance from Hawke was failing, so now wasn't the time for drinking and he couldn't say being sober improved his mood.  He punched the wall, bruising his knuckles again. The plaster crumbled away, but he didn't care. The mansion was already falling into disrepair, what did one more hole matter? He admitted to himself he did want to see her, desperately. He couldn't just walk over there, however, that would be odd and awkward. Fenris's forest green eyes scanned the room, looking for an excuse to see Hawke. Defeated, he sat down on the table, only to immediately stand back up when he realised he had sat on something. It was a book, the book, that Hawke had given him. A Slave's Life by Shartan, the book she'd said she'd use to teach him to read. He had always been embarrassed by being illiterate, Hawke had offered to teach him. It was the most kindness any human had ever shown him and she'd managed to teach him the basics, with a promise to teach him more. But that was before he had messed everything up. Before he had walked out on her. Fenris had learned to stop regretting many years ago, but he constantly regretted leaving her. She was everything to him, his whole existence was to ensure hers. He loved her, but she couldn't love him. Not after what he did. Besides, staying away from her kept her safe. The slavers wouldn't come for her if he had nothing to do with her. They wouldn't dare. Suddenly, Fenris missed her. He wanted to check she was all right. Out of the corner of his eye, Fenris spotted her red scarf, the one she wore the last time he saw her. He scooped it up and ran the silk through his fingers, being exceptionally careful not to rip the material on his spiky gauntlet. This was an excuse. Saying he was just bringing this back, would she believe that? She'd always been good at reading people, especially him. He was still debating as he headed out the door and headed for Hawke's estate.

As he approached Hawke's estate, Fenris noticed the door was ajar. That was odd for Hawke, she was very careful, with good reason. Too many people wanted her dead in this city for her to make the mistake of leaving the door open. Fenris pushed it fully open and physically recoiled at what he saw. The foyer and main hall were all completely wrecked. All the doors had been kicked in and massive chunks were missing from the fireplace. The floor was littered with dead men, all heavily armed. Fenris turned over the nearest one with his foot to get a full view of his armour.
"Slavers..." he muttered, the words like venom on his tongue. They wouldn't come here for Hawke, he concluded, so they were here for me. He felt an all too familiar rage swell within him. They couldn't possibly get Hawke, she was too strong, too powerful.

Fenris walked towards the stairs that lead up to the second floor. There was a blood stain on the wall, red and still dripping. Slaver's blood was coloured to show who's gang they belonged to. This lot's blood was green, so the stain on the wall was not there's.
"No...Hawke..." he muttered. An emotion stirred behind his eyes he didn't entirely recognise. It felt heavy, like doubt was playing with his mind. For the first time in his life, Fenris was worried about someone else. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the library door had been kicked in the wrong way. Someone had broken out of the library, not in. He entered the room and noticed that, unlike the rest of the house, it was not destroyed. The fireplace was intact, the fire just flickering out. The only difference was the door. He was glad, he knew just how enraged Hawke would be if anyone harmed her precious library. On the armchair, a book was still open, ink dripping onto the page. He walked over to the book and prepared to turn it around when he heard footsteps approaching the door. They were too light and dainty to be a slaver.
"Master...Fenris?" Orana whispered edging steadily closer to the door. He faced to see her and instantly felt pity. She was as white as a ghost, pale enough to challenge Hawke's skin tone. Her sapphire eyes were wide open in shock and she was visibly trembling.
"Orana, are you all right? What happened here?"
Orana looked to the floor before straightening up and attempting to hide the fear from her voice.
"I was asleep when most of it happened. I heard fighting so I came to look. Slavers were here. At least 20 just in the room and Mistress Hawke was fighting them all off. She didn't have her staff and she was shooting lightning at them, I think." Orana paused, as if unsure how to continue. Fenris realised things very slowly.
"She was using her magic, without her staff? But her magic's too strong, that would be too unstable. She knows that." he muttered before realising that he'd said it aloud.
"I don't think she had much of a choice. She looked exhausted. She spotted me and told me to go back to my room and lock the door. I'm not ashamed to say I hid around the corner for a while longer... I saw...." she trailed off again, fear written in her face. Fenris went a little closer and reluctantly placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"What happened Orana?
She swallowed loudly.
"They got her... They took her away."

Fenris removed his hand and turned his back on Orana. She couldn't loose, she was too powerful but that had been her undoing. If she hadn't been so powerful; her magic wouldn't have worn her out so quickly. Fenris had to find her. To bring her back. If he'd been here... If he'd come just a few minuets earlier... He glared at the scarf still in his hand. Not entirely sure what to do with it, he wrapped it around his wrist and tied it there. He'd work out what to do with it later.
"Go to your room, Orana, in case more slavers come. I'll send someone round to look after you."
She nodded and ran back up the stairs. Resuming what he was doing before, Fenris turned the book around and saw it was covered in Hawke's beautiful handwriting, the letters perfectly connected.  He read the page quickly before noticing the final paragraph. His heart swelled and quickly reading the final three words, he ran from the mansion.

Hawke's eyes fluttered, her head ached. Everything ached. Slowly, she tried to stand but was met with resistance and she quickly observed her hands were shackled together and in turn attached the the wall. She took in her surroundings with the little light she had. She was in a cage with massive black bars, she heard crying but it sounded distant. She then noticed there was only her and her cage in the entire room, as if they had predicted her to be dangerous. Which they were right about, of course. The nights events slowly trickled back, who she was trying to protect. Panic consumed her and she moved closer to the wall to give the chains some slack, then stood up. If this was the room for the most dangerous, if they had Fenris, he'd be here. Would they put them in two rooms? Were they that clever?
"Slavers aren't clever Hawke, they think of only two things: treating their property as badly as they like and profit. They don't understand strategy. It's too complex for their inferior minds." Hawke recalled Fenris's words exactly. The `inferior minds` part made her laugh at the time, she never thought it would be helpful. There was no-one else in the room, meaning they either didn't have Fenris or had gained a brain. The latter being infinitely less likely. Suddenly, there was a bright light and  Hawke shied away from it, the sudden exposure hurting her eyes.
"Ah look, the Champion of Kirkwall. My prize!" a woman's voice rang through the space. She drew closer and Hawke got a better look at her. She had black hair that reached her lower back, but Hawke was instantly captivated by her eyes. They were an icy shade of blue that couldn't possibly be natural. They were like the purest ice illuminated by fire.
"Who...who are you?" Hawke nearly whispered. She didn't like the feeling of being entirely in someone else's power. It made her panic.
"Until I can sell you, your new master."


Hawke tried to calm the panic building within her. She was not a slave! She would never be a slave! She regretted deeply talking to Fenris about the atrocities he'd seen slavers do to their `property`. It made her feel nauseous.
"I am no one's slave." she said defiantly, causing the slaver leader to laugh.
"You have spirit." she looked her up and down. "I can fix that." The sound of her clicking her fingers echoed through the space. Two men grabbed hold of her and tried to wrench her forward. Almost instinctively, she let out a massive burst of physic energy, knocking the two men into the cage, leaving human shaped indents in the metal. From nowhere, pain gripped her. Her muscles tensed and twisted in ways they really shouldn't. Hawke couldn't move on her own. The pain was too much. Her right, already broken arm twisted around and crept up her back and she felt it strain, pushing the bones even further from each other. Hawke couldn't take it, she screamed. As loud as she could. The slave leader laughed madly and continued.
"Do you hear me, Champion? I will break you!"


Hawke couldn't move, everything hurt too much. The leader had left not long ago, laughing manically as she went, promising to be back tomorrow. Hawke had assessed her injured many times already, but one more time couldn't hurt. Her right arm was broken, at least two broken ribs, countless muscle injuries and both her legs had been broken in an attempt to stop her running away. She had never screamed so much in her life. During the torture, she had muttered Fenris's name, which of course interested the slavers. She had demanded information, a location of some kind. Hawke could take pride in her silence, even through that she had told them nothing. She couldn't use her magic, she was in too much pain to even get the concentration to try. Hawke felt the world ebbing away, it all hurt too much. She heard the door open but she aloud the ebbing to continue, she didn't want to go through that again.
"Hawke!"
She recognised the voice but couldn't keep herself awake and she fell into black.


"Hawke!" Anders shouted. Fenris beheaded the two slavers nearest to him before running over to where Anders stood frozen, holding open a massive metal door. Had he found her? If they had so much as touched her, he swore to kill every last one of them as painfully as he could. He gazed into the darkness and at first he didn't see anything, then he noticed a bundle in the middle of the cage. Fenris ran towards her. He reached her cage and he glared at the lock that separated the two of them.
"Varric!" Fenris shouted. Almost a second after the word was gone, the blonde dwarf appeared at his side and stood on his tiptoes to pick the lock. Fenris couldn't take his eyes off her. Her beautiful red velvet dress was in shreds, the arms gone and the skirt torn up to her knees at the back as well as the front. Her legs were bent in a way that couldn't possibly be achieved unless they were both broken. Her eyes were closed and her face twisted in agony. It broke his heart.
"Is she..." muttered Anders. Fenris knew how that sentence would end. He was already fearing the worst.
"There!" shouted Varric, throwing open the cage door in triumph. Fenris was at her side before the others had even taken a step. She didn't look alive.
"No... Please no..." he muttered feeling desperately for her pulse. She couldn't be dead. Not after reading that journal entry, not after everything. Something distant throbbed under Fenris's fingers as he felt her heart beating. It was there, but it was slowing alarmingly.
"Anders, she's dying!" he shouted, his voice cracking on the final word. He watched Anders carefully, still not trusting him entirely. The blue magic flowed freely from his hands and he scanned her body.
"Maker's sake Hawke! What did they do to you...." he trailed off before immediately beginning to heal her. He glanced up at Fenris with sad eyes.
"Come on, Blondie. Tell me she'll be OK." muttered Varric, handing Anders a lyrium potion which he quickly drank. Then he said two words. Two words which drained Fenris of everything.
"I can't."

Fenris knelt beside her and carefully took her hand in his. They were still smooth and soft, even after all she'd been through.
"Come on, Rose. You can do this." he muttered. For the first time, he used her first name. He had always said it suited her so beautifully.
"Your having trouble with my pet?" said a female voice from the door. He was on his feet in seconds, holding his massive longsword in both hands. The female moved forward, she was a blood-mage. The blood flowing freely from her wrists floating around her.
"You did this to Hawke?" he demanded, stepping out of the cage to face her. She nodded eagerly then opened her mouth to speak but Fenris already had her pinned against the wall. His arm across her chest, pinning her so she couldn't move her arms.
"Bad Fenris." she muttered. "She said your name in her final moments, it was oh so sweet." Something twanged inside Fenris's heart again but was pulled back to reality by Anders swearing loudly.
"Fenris, it's her! She's killing Hawke! She has some sort of blood-magic link to Hawke , you have to kill her, now!" Fenris didn't have to think twice. He ignited his lyrium tattoos and plunged his hand into her chest, causing her to scream in agony.
"This is for Hawke." he muttered to her before tearing the still beating heart out of her chest and throwing it out the door.


Fenris ran back to Hawke, shaking the blood from his hand. He went back to his position, holding onto her hand beside her.
"Careful Fenris! I just healed that." Anders growled. You could tell, even after all this time, he was still jealous. Plus, he was busy healing which made him grumpy.
"How bad were her injuries?" he asked nervously. Anders seemed occupied so Varric answered his question.
"From what I picked up from his muttering, she had two broken ribs, a badly broken arm, both legs were shattered and all her muscles were twisted or stretched."
Fenris cringed, he couldn't even imagine not being able to move at all, without restraints. It must have been so horrible for her. He looked up at Varric and nodded. He'd never seen the dwarf so worried, his usually tanned skin was white and his eyebrows creased in worry.
"Are you all right Varric?" he asked squeezing Hawke's hand tighter.
"I'll be fine when Hawke is." he murmured. Varric scooped up his crossbow and headed out to guard the entrance.

Anders continued to heal her vigorously, seemingly unaware of anything that occurred. Fenris hoped that he was as good as Hawke thought he was. He raised her soft hand and pressed it to his lips, ignoring the look Anders gave him. He felt his hand crush as Hawke squeezed it, causing him to go wide eyed.
"That's all I can do. She'll just need rest now." sighed Anders falling backwards. Fenris nodded and scooped her up in his arms. She was lighter than he'd expected.
"You two will have to cover me. I'll carry her back." he shouted, met by nods from both of them.  Hawke nuzzled into his armour, showing her first signs of life.
"Fenris?" she said sleepily. Fenris felt happiness swell in his chest.
"I'm here Hawke." he replied, focusing on finding his way out of the seemingly never ending warehouse were they had kept Hawke.
"I didn't tell them anything, not a word." she mumbled before falling back unconscious. Fenris felt emotions stir in his chest, but he'd had to tell her later. When he'd forgiven himself for letting this happen in the first place.

One Week Later...

Hawke curled up in the library armchair, putting her journal on the floor beside her. Anders had told her to rest, but after a week of simply not doing anything, she couldn't stay in bed a moment longer. The mansion was now fully repaired and Orana was slightly recovered from the shock of it all. Basically all her friends had visited and tried to help her in some way. She had politely declined, all she wanted right now was her own company and to see Fenris. He was the only one who hadn't visited her. She knew he blamed himself, heck: he blamed himself for everything. Her eyes watched the fire flickering and couldn't help remembering this was how her kidnapping started. She stood up and propped herself up against the fireplace.
"Any moment now I'll hear the front door being picked." she murmured to herself.
"That's not my style Hawke."
Hawke gasped and jumped backwards. Fenris just laughed at her, walking into the room. His white hair darkened and lightened depending on the firelight. It was slightly hypnotising.
"Don't do that! That wasn't funny!"
Fenris ignored her and chuckled in his usual deep voice. I love his laugh thought Hawke. His emerald eyes stared back at her warmly and her stomach flipped.
"Oh and have we lost first name terms now, Fenris?"
He stopped laughing and blushed a bright colour.
"You remember that?" he asked timidly. Hawke moved towards him slowly, taking deliberately long steps.
"I don't think I'll ever forget." she said, smirking. Hawke didn't realise how close she had gotten to him. She could just reach out and touch him. Fenris seemed to hear what she was thinking and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him.
"Rose." he said, as if he was savouring the word or inventing a word of praise for wine. Her heart was hammering against her chest like a bird.
"That was bold." she joked. She felt his chest heave in a little chuckle.
"You know something Rose?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. Right now, Hawke didn't trust her voice so she just hummed in recognition. He smirked and put one arm around her waist, denying her any escape. He lent forward and whispered in her ear, causing her heart to beat even faster.
"You've really got to get better at hiding your diary."
If any colour was in Hawke's face to start with, it was gone now. She knew full well what she had written that day, and that she had left it open on the chair but she had never considered that he had read it.
"Shit, Fenris, I...." she had to explain herself. To say something.
"Shut up." he whispered as he crushed his lips against hers. It was sweet, tender. She'd missed him badly. It was perfect, as if all the world's problems had gone and sorted themselves out for a change. As if nothing else mattered. She wrapped her arm around him as he pulled away from her lips, still holding her tightly.
"Don't scare me like that again, Rose." he murmured into her hair. Hawke couldn't think properly. She couldn't think of sarcasm. The world could have exploded and she wouldn't even notice.
"Never." she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. The problems of Kirkwall could try and touch them, Fenris would never leave her side again. Ever.
Ok, this took me 2 whole months.
Behold, my entry to #DragonAgeChallenges Romance Competition.
Challenge: Write/draw something that depicts your favorite romance (as in, fav LI).
I realise this is equal parts long and crap.
The two songs that inspired all of this are: Before the Worst and Walk Away both by The Script. Walk away perfectly shows the Fenris/Hawke romance and is excellent inspiration. :)
Enjoy :P
© 2012 - 2024 curls101
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Glyphron's avatar
Sort of a wild flight of fantasy..... But, I think we'd all go mad without the occasional starry eyed dream.