I really should be updating my languishing stories, but sadly, inspiration has slowed to a trickle there, currently. I recently found myself replaying Dragon Age 2 (yet again...an amazing game made in such a short amount of time) and realized what an absolute cinnamon roll Fenris is in a friendship romance with a FemHawke mage, and from those musings, this story was born. Previously, I was always a pretty devoted Anders romancer, but I think I may have jumped ship to Fenris now lol. I mean, come on, who doesn't love a growling, snapping elf who turns into a completely besotted and devoted lover, murmuring his continued commitment to Hawke in Gideon Emery's golden voice with: "I am yours." I melt into a happy puddle of goo. :)

All that to say...I haven't read many Fenris romance stories, so I don't know if this idea has already been done to death or not, but if you decide to give it a go, I hope it's interesting enough to keep you entertained, and thanks for reading.

Also, the custom Hawke I use for this story has long, dark hair, the default blue eyes, and lovely, delicate features. She's a combo of blue angel/charming purple in personality, and has a tendency to blame herself for anything that goes wrong, then drown herself in guilt afterwards. Poor girl. ;)

Chapter One

The moon was a pale crescent in the night sky, seen intermittently when the clouds parted enough for its faint radiance to shine through. Aurah Hawke sighed and dropped her gaze from the wooden latticework above that allowed light and air down into the dank hold of the Denerim Dream, the stroppy little cargo ship with the lofty name, on which she and her surviving family had managed to book passage.

Fleeing Lothering and the blight had been the worst thing she had ever experienced, apart from her father's untimely death, but the loss of her younger sister during the journey was an angry, festering wound she knew she would carry for the rest of her life. Father had asked only one thing of her before the consumption in his lungs stole the last of his breath away for good: to take care of the family and look after them all in his absence. She had immediately given him her oath, desiring to grant him peace and firm in the conviction that nothing would harm Mother or the twins unless it was over her dead body. She had never been more determined, her belief strong that if she just willed something hard enough, it would come to pass. But already, she had failed spectacularly. Her youthful naivety and trust in her own abilities now lay in tatters, a bitter regret and sorrow filling her heart and mind with self-hatred and endless recriminations.

She drew a breath, glancing down to where she had picked one of her nails bloody, and forced her hands to still their unconscious punishment. Perhaps one day, she would allow herself to grieve Bethany properly, to go over all the years of treasured memories of their childhood together and cry actual tears for such a deep loss, but not now. Her family needed her to be their rock in this chaotic time, and that was what she would be.

Glancing over to where her mother slept soundly beside their friend, Aveline Vallen, a fellow Ferelden refugee who they had more or less stumbled into during their escape from the darkspawn, Aurah pushed to her feet and crept over to the far side of the hold. Her brother, Carver, had spent most of his time brooding since they boarded the ship nearly a week before. She stood looking down at where he sat until he shot her an annoyed glance.

"What is it now, sister? Come to complain about the lack of washing facilities again, or something equally inane and difficult for your delicate sensibilities to tolerate?" he mumbled, his voice full of bitterness.

She settled down beside him, pressed near enough to feel his warmth against her side and chuckled lowly. "While I'm no spoiled Orlesian flower, I see nothing wrong with a little pride in one's scent and appearance and some basic personal grooming. And you must admit that what passes for a privy on this ship is disgusting by anyone's standards. Still, I'm grateful to be here. With the crowds in Gwaren, we were fortunate to get passage on anything."

Carver made a noise of annoyance. "Which we owe to you, of course, and the way you chatted up the first mate. I really don't think it was necessary for you to flirt with him quite as much as you did to get us on board. He's been watching you like a mabari on the hunt, which means I have to watch him to be sure he doesn't try something stupid. Why do you always make my life more difficult?"

Aurah bumped him with her elbow, a small smile lifting her lips. "But brothers are supposed to protect their sisters and watch over them, and you're so good at it too, almost like you trained for it," she said teasingly, hoping to jolly him out of the dark mood he had fallen into.

He didn't respond to her teasing or her smile, and the silence stretched between them until Carver finally broke it, his voice low and full of a pain he tried to hide.

"Like I was so good at it with Beth?" he asked quietly, letting his head fall back against the wooden wall behind him with a solid thump.

Glancing up again through the lattice work as the moon appeared once more, she released a breath, her shoulders slumping. "You know that was my fault, Carver. You heard mother. If I had been quicker, or just..." She stopped abruptly, long enough to swallow against the lump in her throat, and only continued when she had control of her voice once more.

"It's my fault. If I could change what happened and take her place, I would, and I hope one day you can forgive me for failing you all." She could feel her brother's eyes on her, and when a determined tear escaped her lashes and raced down her cheek, she brushed it away hurriedly, dismayed when another immediately followed.

"Maker's sake, Aurah, I didn't think your martyr complex could get any worse, but evidently I was wrong." He sighed gustily and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him and resting his chin on top of her head. Carver smelled like sweat and home, and it was oddly comforting. She laughed mirthlessly and wiped at her tears again ineffectually.

"This is all wrong. I'm not supposed to be crying, I'm supposed to be strong...for you and mother."

He tugged on her long braid absently and she felt him shrug. "You don't have to pretend with me, sister. I know you feel as bad as I do. And I don't think mother really meant what she said to us either, she was just upset."

She sat quietly in thought for several minutes while her tears dried and finally smiled. "You've grown very wise during your absence, Carver. Why don't you be the responsible sibling and I'll be your adoring, ornamental sister?"

He shoved her off him with a snort. "Oh, shut up, Aurah."

Snickering, she shoved him back, suddenly thrust back in time to the days when she and Carver used to fight like cats and dogs, and smiled wistfully. Carver met her nostalgic gaze and rolled his eyes with the first hint of a smile from him that she had seen in days.

She looked at him, really looked at him, noting the purple bruising of fatigue underneath his eyes and the tired slump of his shoulders, and felt protectiveness and pride well up in her. It had been a difficult time for all of them, but Carver bore every trial stoically, usually with very little complaint. She glanced over to where their mother and Aveline slept, her resolve strengthening. They would make it through whatever challenges lay ahead and start a new life in Kirkwall, and no matter what, they would stay together. Nothing was more important than family.

Aurah wrapped her arms around one of Carver's and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I know I don't tell you this often, but I'm proud to have you as my brother, and I'm glad we're together again. I missed you while you were away, Carver."

"Stop being mushy," he grumbled, making her grin again.

"Very well," she agreed easily, knowing how emotional displays embarrassed her brother, but felt it was important he knew how much she valued him. "But only if you tell me all the dirty jokes you heard in King Cailan's army."

He laughed. "How much time have you got? We may be here for a while."

Hours later, a loud, hissing sound woke Aurah, and she opened her eyes blearily where she had fallen asleep next to Carver, to see a dense, green mist had filled the hold. Alarmed and sensing danger, she tried to sit up, quickly becoming panicked when she discovered she could not move a single muscle apart from her eyes. Time crawled slowly by as she laid there and the mist gradually dissipated, struggling with all her will and might to move, but she could not. In desperation, she called her magic, faintly relieved when she felt the fade power move through her, lightning sparking from her fingertips. The sound of footsteps drew nearer, before she heard a loud, coarse voice above her, and a rough hand gripped her chin, turning her head to where she could see the man.

"Oy, Danzig! I found some good ones down 'ere. Better bring one of them enchanted collars, this one's got lightning coming from her hands."

More heavy footfalls and a bright light flooded the space and three more faces peered down at her, all heavily armed with weapons. The tallest man grinned, and if she could have moved, Aurah would have shivered at the cruel look in his blue eyes. Crouching down, he ran his hands over her, feeling her hips and breasts, and pushing open her lips to examine her teeth, as though she were a horse. Outraged at the violation, she called more lightning until it sparked across her entire body, shocking him and making him jerk back with a dark laugh.

Turning to a new man who handed him a metal collar, which he quickly snapped around her neck, Aurah felt her heart sink while it simultaneously tried to gallop its way out of her chest in fear as she felt her magic quickly drain away. He soon confirmed the very worst as he stared down at her in glee while he released her braid to examine her hair.

"Pretty, spirited, and with magical talent," he told his comrades, with excitement. "This one is going to fetch me a very high price, and I know just which magister will want her enough to pay whatever I ask. He doesn't have much of a taste for elves, but I know he'll want a taste of her." He leered and squeezed her breast again, bold with her paralyzed and magic safely locked away. He stood to sweep his assessing gaze across the hold. "Now let's finish this up before the effects of the smoke wear off. Only take those that are young and healthy, mind. We don't want any cargo that's hard to move when we reach Minrathous."

He moved out of her line of sight, and not a minute later, she was hauled up and tossed over a burly man's shoulder that smelled like rotten fish and wood smoke. If she could have gagged, she would have. What little she was able to see disappeared completely as her loosed hair fell across her eyes. She was passed from one person to the next, and then carried onto a smaller boat, with oars, from what she could hear and smell.

An indeterminate amount of time later, she was lifted like a flour sack over another man's shoulder and carried aboard a different ship, although she could see very little of it beyond the deck and a glimpse of rigging. Down, deep into another hold, and her breath whooshed from her lungs as she was thrown into a large, hay-strewn cage, hearing the distinctive clank of metal as the door was closed and locked. The light retreated and she was left in the pitch dark, unable to see or move. Her heart pounding like a drum and the loud, frantic breaths that accompanied it were the only proof of life.

It was ridiculous. None of it could be real. There was no possible way she had escaped Lothering and the darkspawn against all odds, only to be taken captive by dimwitted thugs that smelled like a dung heap. The Maker would never be that cruel, would he? This was a nightmare, there was no other explanation. She would tell Carver all about it in the morning and he would call her an idiot and they would laugh about it. Mother would scold her for going to sleep on an empty stomach, likely citing it as the cause of such a terrible dream.

Yes, that seemed right. It was a nightmare, for sure. Certainly. All she needed to figure out was a way to wake herself up.