A/N - So, here is the third installment of The Hawk and the Wolf. It took quite a while to bake in the ole mental oven, and I had a very difficult time pulling it together. For the longest time, a draft of the third chapter just sat on my computer, waiting for its moment. Then, Lady Gaga published her new song, "The Edge of Glory," and I was immediately inspired by its lyrics. The song and this chapter really captures a moment in Fenris and Hawke's relationship-teetering on the edge, both ready to jump and terrified and intrigued to do so. So, with that said, enjoy!

Reviews are like booze, the more the merrier!

Disclaimer - I do not own Bioware or Dragon Age. If I did, I would be a whole lot wealthier. And, all the male characters would be voiced by Gideon Emery, not just Fenris.

The Edge

The words tumbled out of her mouth, and she saw his face flash in confusion and then realization at the use of his earlier statement against him. Hawke instantly regretted saying anything—for as much as the words condemned him, they exposed her. In her zeal to punish him for his carelessness, she had unwittingly bared her soul. For some time now, something had been building between herself and Fenris. Whatever that something was, she could not really say; it was like there was a force pulling at her, like an itch that she could never quite scratch. She had lost count of how many times she had found herself staring at his lithe frame, or how often she asked him questions that she already knew the answer to just to hear his melodic timbre in response. Hawke had already come to grips with the fact that she was absolutely obsessed with her Tevinter companion, but she was not ready for him to have that knowledge.

She stood there waiting for any kind of response from him. It seemed like hours passed, and still he said or did nothing. He remained immobile, holding her forearms in place, like a golem missing its control rod. "Of course," she thought miserably to herself, "he can babble all day long about the evils of magic but say naught a word about himself." Hawke felt her patience waning, as sadness and frustration set in. His continued silence confirmed her belief that she had said too much. Luckily, it also gave her time to think about her mistake, and what she could do to save face. She decided to backpedal by focusing on how he treated Aveline.

"Did that hit a little too close to home for you, Fenris? You can criticize everyone else's ability to express themselves, but can not handle someone critiquing you? You were very hard on Aveline."

"Brilliant," she thought to herself with contempt, "open your big dumb mouth and almost put your foot in it." Hopefully, he would believe that her reason for being upset with him solely involved his treatment of their mutual friend. She noticed that he was looking at her now, eyeing her warily, like he was watching a snake that was about to strike.

He spoke carefully, "You are right, Hawke. I am hardly in the position to judge; it was foolish of me to do so. I will find Aveline, and apologize to her. "

"Good," she murmured half-heartedly.

"Is there anything else troubling you?"

"No, nothing else." Her voice, full of gravel, betrayed just how false her words were.

She pulled herself out of his grasp, and turned away from him. She strolled as casually as she could over to the dummy, pulled out her daggers, and continued her assault. On the outside she kept her composure, stepping and thrusting in a rhythmic motion, seeming to be concentrating fully on the task at hand. On the inside, she was unsettled, in disbelief that he had seemed to fall for her ruse, and seething in anger at their mutual hypocrisy. She would not let him know the turmoil she was in. She had unknowingly made that mistake once, and he had almost seen too much.

She barely heard his voice then; it was almost inaudible compared to the walloping that she was handing out.

"You seem to be bent on destroying that dummy."

She responded, "That is what they exist for."

"Wouldn't you like a challenge? Why don't you spar with me instead?"

She continued her barrage, not breaking one stride while responding through gritted teeth, "I don't think that is such a good idea."

"Why not? It is much better to practice battle techniques with a live opponent— someone who can give you some feedback."

Clearly, he was not going to heed her warning. She thought it was an extremely bad idea to be sparring with anything alive, especially him, considering her present emotional state. However, if she wanted to keep him in the dark about her feelings, she had to let on like nothing was amiss. Even if, all the while, she was erupting on the inside because she was lying to him right through her teeth when she told him that nothing else was irritating her. She was furious with him and with herself. She was being just as ridiculous as him, and she could not help it.

He came into her view then, standing behind the dummy. He drew his sword, and motioned with his hand, "Come on Hawke."

"I will not be sparring with you, Fenris."

He grinned knowingly, "What's a matter, Hawke? Afraid you will lose?"

"You have no idea what you have asked for," she growled as she lunged at him.

He quickly managed to bring his sword up in time to parry the thrusts of Hawke's weapons. She was pulling her daggers short of their target, but clearly she was not trying to be gentle. He had the sneaking feeling that he had bitten off more than he could chew—in more ways than one.

He was certain that his initial silence had only contributed to her ire, but he had been unsure of how to respond. Her voice had been heavy with raging emotions, and her echo of his own words had both surprised and stupefied him. On more than one occasion, he had coveted Hawke in ways that were inappropriate at best. He knew that her impassioned accusation that he was being as obtuse as Aveline was spot on, but he was still unsure of how to deal with it.

She was his leader, his confidant, his one true and only friend. He was both fascinated and frightened by the thoughts he had about the Champion. On one hand, she was an incredibly beautiful woman, the perfect mixture of a hard body and soft eyes. Yet, she was the only person in all of Thedas that he could count on. He had realized long ago that it would be very easy to fall for Hawke. Truth be told, he already had strong feelings for the woman. But he was afraid to let those feelings come through, for fear that it could ruin the one thing he valued above all else, her friendship.

Yet his fear of losing that friendship had turned him into a hypocrite, and he knew and understood why she was angry with him. He disapproved of Aveline's withholding of her feelings for Donnic, yet he was doing the same thing to Hawke. She had every right to be furious with him, and he could only hope that she would eventually forgive him. But just as soon as he thought he understood why she was angry, she confounded him again by expressing only her displeasure about how he had treated Aveline. She breathed not a word about their similar situation, and how he was being two-faced. Even when he pressed her, she tried to tell him that his mistreatment of their friend was the only thing that bothered her.

Except, when he looked into her eyes, he could see that they were still unsettled. She was a convincing actress, and she probably could have fooled everyone else except him. He had looked into the deep blue depths of her irises so often that he knew something was amiss. If she would not volunteer the information, he would just have to coax it out of her. The easiest way to do that, knowing Hawke, was to antagonize her. So that's exactly what he did, by offering to spar with her, and, when she refused, challenging her ability to best him.

Now, that decision seemed short-sighted. He was sure she would eventually crack, but he was also sure he would get a beating in the meantime. He had managed to keep up with her for the most part, but she seemed to have an unlimited supply of emotion-driven energy. She was blindingly quick and eventually managed to flank him. She swept his feet out from under him, and he landed prone with a thud. He looked at her face, and the expression she wore was mostly amusement mixed with a tinge of contempt.

"So much for that challenge you offered," she mocked as he lay sprawled below her.

She looked so smug standing there, that he felt a great desire to knock her down a peg. He reached out, grabbing her ankle and pulling her off balance. She fell backwards, landing parallel to him. He used the surprise of his attack to roll on top of her, and pinned her arms at her sides.

"I will admit, that was an uncharacteristic and impressive move," she huffed breathlessly.

"Like it? I have learned a few things by watching you," he panted.

"You've been watching me?" Her voice was heavy with implication.

"I can admit to admiring your form while fighting. You appear to be the one who cannot admit to anything when it comes to me," he weaved the words with a mixture of serious accusation and gentle teasing.

Her eyes narrowed, "Fine. I can admit that I knew I was going to hand your ass to you."

He sighed and smirked, "You can be so utterly infuriating, Hawke."

"I've learned from the best, Fenris."

He lowered his face to hers, and was amused when she looked startled. He whispered breathlessly, "Good. Since you are such an eager pupil, I have one more lesson to teach you that you clearly need to learn—how to surrender."

He crashed his lips into her roughly, wrapping his arms around her to pull her to him. Her mouth responded eagerly, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. She slid her tongue along his lips, requesting entrance. He gladly obliged, and shifted his weight so that they could be comfortable in their embrace. They laid there, intertwined in one another, enjoying each other and finally content after many months of want and need. He broke their kiss to murmur, "I could get used to this kind of sparring."

"So could I," she smiled.