Loving Rivals

By: FightfortheLost

This shouldn't have happened.

The memory of those words had haunted her for a long time. Hawke sat by the fireplace in the library, drinking directly from the bottle of wine. It was something she would never have done before. Her mother had always referred to it as uncivilized.

Tonight she didn't care about being civilized. She cared about dulling the pain of a broken heart. That's all she'd cared about for quite some time.

A few days after Fenris walked out, Anders had walked in, asked her if she was over the elf. Saying she'd flipped shit had been an understatement. Okay, granted, she'd been flirting with the idea of trying out the mage for awhile, but she'd never actually intended on-

She stopped that line of thought. She was an idiot. There was no way around it. She'd been leading Anders on from the start. The moment she'd first heard that damn elf speak, her heart had fluttered disgracefully as if she were some heroine from one of Isabella's romance novels. His large, expressive eyes had drawn her in and she'd been intrigued.

Would he accept a mage for a lover? Would he let her, who had powers and potential that could make her what he feared most, touch him? Her mind had raced with possibilities with him. She supposed she just didn't realize how badly she was hurting both of them. Obviously, she'd just been pushing Fenris too hard. With Anders, she'd just...let it go on too long.

She couldn't fix either of these problems now. What had been done could not be undone.

She wasn't certain when she noticed the feeling, but she became suddenly aware of being watched and she straightened, turning towards the door, finding the elf standing there, looking at her in silence. She swallowed in discomfort, lifted the wine bottle and took a long swig before leaning back in the chair. "Ha, I must be more drunk that I thought. I'm starting to hallucinate."

"Pardon?"

She glanced towards him, then sighed. "Hello, Fenris," she said, quietly, calmly. "Was there something you needed?" She heard his feet on the carpet as he moved towards her. Then, he was sitting in the chair closest to her own. She watched as he leaned onto his knees, extending his hand towards the wine bottle. She handed it over after considering for a long moment. There was no wisdom to getting drunk with the elf. She passed him the bottle anyways. "If you use it to paint my walls, I'm going to be very cross with you," she said, trying to keep her tone light.

He gave a rough chuckle and lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink from it before passing it back to her. She stared at the bottle for a long time before she decided to speak. "Why did you come here, Fenris?" She finally asked, pleased that she managed to keep all of the turbulence inside of her out of her voice.

He looked up at her in surprise, then looked at his hands. "I...wanted to speak with you."

She sighed heavily. He looked uncomfortable. It never meant anything good for her when he looked like that. "What do you want to talk about, Fenris? I thought you were very clear the last time we spoke privately." She lifted the bottle to her lips, chugging it.

He was eying her and she knew that those flashes in his eyes were temper. Good, anger at least would get them somewhere. She met his gaze with her own, letting him see the temper sizzling through her as well. The truth is, she wanted to pick a fight with someone she could trust and Fenris was always on edge, especially around her.

"I see," he said, through clenched teeth. "And here I thought you might have been sitting here pining away for me like some adolescent fool."

Hurt lanced her and she stood abruptly, hurling the wine towards the fire. The glass shattered and the fire consumed the alcohol quickly. She didn't look at him, didn't even look towards him. Her hands trembled in her intense fury. "Pining," she snapped. "For someone who came to my house, asked to lay with me, and then walked out as if I was nothing?" She turned towards him, putting as much disdain as she could in her voice. "Perish the thought."

She glanced towards him and saw something akin to pain flash over his face at her harsh words. That made her heart flinch and she quickly turned her back towards him. "What do you want me to say, Hawke? I thought I explained why this couldn't happen! I thought..." his voice halted abruptly and she turned towards him, her anger still riding her.

"You thought what?" she snapped. "Thought that I enjoyed being used like trash and then thrown aside? Thought that I would just sit back and swallow the hurt and anger at watching you walk out on me?" She stepped towards him, putting her hands on either arm of the chair he sat in, bringing her face close to his. His eyes widened and he leaned back slightly from her.

"Thought that you leaving me alone wouldn't hurt me?" Her last words were whispered.

The vein in his neck bulged slightly and he turned away from her. "Yes," he said quietly.

She couldn't contain her disgust as she pushed away from him, pacing back to the fire. "Well you thought wrong," she said, just as quiet.

"Well, it's not like you really let your bed grow cold," he muttered. "So don't act like I was irreplaceable."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, turning back to him, furious at the implication.

"Anders," he challenged, standing and moving towards her. "So don't go playing wounded party towards-"

"You little-" she placed her hands on his chest and shoved him as hard as she could. "You know what? I thought about it. I seriously considered letting him into my bed and seeing if he could fill the space you left. But he said..." she stopped abruptly, turning away from him, staring sadly into the fire. "He called you a beast," she said quietly. "Mentioning you in the room where..." she lowered her gaze, looked away, trying to ignore the pain. "You are both driven by your own prejudice, but he had no business saying that."

A hand touched her arm and she looked down at it. "Go ahead and tell me I'm pathetic, Fenris. I've been thinking it all night myself."

"You mean you didn't-"

"Of course I didn't," she hissed, turning towards him. "I don't just...screw around with everyone I'm friends with. Obviously. I wouldn't say you and I are friends, even on a good day." She heard him laugh softly and she turned towards him, looking into his mossy-green eyes. "Is that all you wanted to talk about," she asked quietly. "If I'm having sex with anyone now that you've left me? Don't you think that's a little cruel to me?"

His hand came up, cupped her face. "I know it is," he said, looking sad. "I'm sorry for that."

She lifted her hand, holding his to her face. "If you apologize, I'm going to think you want me back," she said quietly. "Since I doubt that's true, don't-"

He pulled her close, silencing her with his lips on hers. It was a ghost of a kiss, and for a moment, she'd wondered if he'd phased through her briefly. He withdrew and his forehead came to rest upon her own. She simply stared at him, stunned. "Fenris...?"

His arms slipped around her waist, but he didn't speak for a long time. When he did, it was with little emotion. "I'm sorry," he said again, then released her, backing away.

She stared at him for a long time, her lips pulling into a faint frown. He was walking away again. She knew it. Her shoulders fell and she looked away from him. "Running again," she asked quietly.

"It's better if I don't remain longer."

"For you, maybe," she turned away again, hurt lancing through her a second time. She wouldn't watch him walk away a second time. Not when she was still feeling the pain from the first time.

He was silent for a long time, but she didn't hear the door open. After the long silence, she glanced towards where he was standing, seeing pain on his face as well. Surprised, she turned towards him fully. He'd been so cold when he'd walked out that night, it never occurred to her that he might have been hurting as he walked away as well.

A sigh left her. She could let this hurt and anger fester until she was as bitter and poisoned as him, or she could try to let it go, to open her heart to this frustrating elf. "Would you...come by to visit me tomorrow?" she asked quietly. "I would appreciate the company...even if we're not together...in that way."

"I'm not certain I'm the most suited," he said, a faint smile turning up his lips. "I am bad at comforting people and I tend to throw things."

Her lips curled into an unwilling smile and a soft chuckle escaped her. "I'm sure I have a few empty wine bottles lying around, and there's a nice courtyard in the back. Lots of walls to throw them at."

He laughed and the sound soothed something inside her. "I think I'd like that," he said quietly, his hand lifting and it lightly brushed against her cheek. As his hand fell to his side, his face grew serious. "I can't offer more," he said softly.

"I don't want more," she said quietly. "Just you. However you'll be with me."

There was something in his eyes that she refused to read into. If she did and was wrong again, it would destroy her. She forced herself to smile for him and came forward, embracing him as she would any of her friends. "Thank you for coming by. I'm feeling better now."

"Funny how fighting always does that for you," he teased lightly, and she felt his hand lightly touch her shoulder. He didn't release her immediately, and she didn't want to pull away. "I should go," he said eventually and she forced herself to let him go.

Before he turned around, she did, facing the fireplace once again, staring into the embers, refusing to watch him walk away. She knew it would just stir up memories and upset her. Once she heard the door shut behind him, she wandered over, finding another half-finished bottle of wine on her desk. An empty glass sat behind it, waiting.