The Part Where the World Falls Down.

By/Par: Ja ne, Kat

Okay just for those who want to know, in this DA universe Hawke is a Mage healer but (as I like Bethany better) Carver died fleeing the blight and as far as timeline goes, "A Bitter Pill" (this one-shot) happens AFTER "All That Remains". I hope this clears up any and all confusion. forgive all mistakes I don't have a Beta . .. and sometimes things get missed when you convert it from one format to another. May i say this looked prettier in my microsoft word . . .

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Tender, but calloused fingers drifted lightly over his skin, their pale colour a startling contrast against his own dark brown. He was tense, braced for the pain that ALL contact brought him and was unsurprised when his tattoos lit the bed around them.

"Relax Fenris. I would never do something to cause you harm. Concentrate, are you actually hurt?" Warm breath against his neck before her tongue traced the tattoos there, following the line of them down to his chest.

No, he realized with a growing wonder, he wasn't. Her touch was . . . his mind trailed off. Halted from thinking as her mouth continued following the tattoos downward path and he had a brief moment of panic when he realized where she would end up. Then her mouth sealed around him and he gave himself over to her, a mage. Hands clenching into the scarlet sheets and ripping them, to keep from reaching for her and hurting her as some still broken part of him wanted to do. Letting her tease him and permitting her to feel in control, before he felt his resolve break with a snap and he pulled her up his body before rolling them and using the now shredded sheet to tie her to the head broad. He sent her a wicked smile that caused her to shudder and flush, before indulging in her body, grateful that Marion's bedroom had no windows, the light show they were putting on would have had all the Templar's in Hightown knocking on the door as Marion's healing magic added to the glow he was giving off.

Hours and several rounds later had found him standing, beside the bed, looking down at the all too tempting body. His hand still clenched around that first piece of scarlet sheet. He had spent his whole, remembered life, running from his past. Yet, after all that he said he was done running, he found himself right back at the start. All because the touch, the feel and the complete surrender of her, the only person to see him as a person, had brought all that was forgotten back in a rush of pleasure and Magic. Only it had vanished, back into that dark space in his mind, leaving him feeling like something important was missing and could not be brought back.

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"Venhedis!" He snarled, heaving, the now empty, wine bottle at the wall of the room he'd made his bedroom. He had wanted to leave before she had woken up and pinned him with that pain-filled, too blue gaze, that had only just started to leave her face a few weeks before . . . all this. He had wanted to leave, but she deserved so much better than that. She deserved the best he could give her and so he had waited for her to wake. He had stood staring at her for hours. Wanting to brand the image of her lying there, barred so trustingly and temptingly before him, into his memory as if it was the lyrium on his skin. He had spun to face the fire when she'd started shifting toward waking, running from her even before she opened her eyes.

"And here I told her I was still in Kirkwall to make a stand. To stop running and begin living."

Letting his head hang allowed his eyes to lock on to the strip of sheet he still held like a lifeline in his hand. The blood red colour reminded him of the death that had started his flight to freedom and the gift, freely given that was now holding him here. Such an important thing to give, and she'd given it to him. Mind made up he tied it around his wrist. It wasn't part of him like the lyrium, but it would be THERE to remind him all the same.

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He'd fled from her. He'd fled, like she was the Blight come personally to infect him. Or maybe one of the Magister's he always told her, her magic would make her one day.

"I'm well and truly alone now."

The words were empty and sounded nothing like her. They were . . . weak. She was an Ogre-slayer and conqueror of dark, dangerous and treasure filled caves. She was always the strong one, for her family. The thought hit her hard and put a small hitch in her breathing.

"Only now, there's no one to be strong for."

The Ogre had killed Carver. She would trade every last bit of the treasure she had acquired to have Bethany back from the Grey Wardens and Mother . . . A bitter laugh slipped out. Mother had been turned into a puppet by the same force, she, herself had used to defend her family all those long years. Now Fenris had run from her because someone else who had magic would rather use it to destroy, then to do the harder work and use it to fix all that was hopelessly broken in the world.

A soft whine drew her attention to the doorway. There stood her Mabari, as he always did when she needed him, waiting for her to call him.

"Calen."

His name fell softly from her lips as she slid off the edge of the bed where she had been since cleaning up after he'd run. She tossed her arms around his neck and buried her face into his fur. No matter that they had been gone from Fereldan for more than five years, his fur always smelled for Lothering, of home, long gone and mostly forgotten. Here then was her oldest and truest companion, and he had been since she had been only a farmer's daughter desperately trying to hide what she was from the world, but still willing to turn herself over if that would keep her younger sibling safe.

He had let her borrow his shoulder before, on those few occasions when she had needed to borrow strength. The first time had been when her father had died, a few months before she'd been forced to lead her family from the Blight. Once, just after Bethany had written her sister her first and last letter after her Joining. To let her sister know how much she resented her older sister's choice. It seemed to matter little to Bethany that Hawke wrote her at least once a month.

"I'm glad that you are still here with me. Thank you. Thank you so, so much for picking me all those years ago."

A soft WOOF of warm air against her ear as he drew back slowly and gave her the look that said he was waiting for the action plan.

"He's not getting rid of me that easily, Calen. So, he doesn't want to share a bed or more with me, then fine. I can live with that. It isn't the most awful thing that's happened to me."

But it was up there, she thought to herself.

"I REFUSE to lose his friendship over this. I'm going to act as if tonight never happened. So, since I will not be getting anymore sleep tonight, I'm going to go down to the library. I'm not going to miss this morning's reading lessons, and now that Orana's here I'll take her with me and they can both learn what most slaves are denied."

Plan of action set he followed her as she marched to the library to get two lesson plans ready, and breakfast. Just because her mother was gone did not mean someone shouldn't make sure that the blasted, stubborn elf ate!

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He was jolted out of his drunken slumber into his hangover when his door slammed closed. He didn't even have time to wonder who it was before her cheerful voice called out to him.

"Morning Fenris! Are you ready for lessons? I'll bring breakfast up in a minute I'm just going to have Orana start cleaning up the formal dining room!"

Surely he was dreaming? After what he'd done to her last night, she would not just wander in here for reading lessons as if nothing had happened? Yet, opening his eyes against the painful light, showed her framed in his doorway, basket of food in her arms, Mabari at her heels. The same as she did every morning when she came to teach him to read.

"Hawke? What-" He trailed off not sure he wanted to ask as her smile slipped, but she walked in a set the basket on the worktable she had given him, choosing to ignore that he'd gone back to calling her Hawke.

"I said to take your time eating because Orana and I are going to clean up the formal dining room. We can do lessons in there from now on since she doesn't know how to read either. I thought she would be more comfortable learning with you in the room at least until she stops flinching at every mistake she makes, because she's waiting for punishment. She has volunteered to make breakfast for you since she's imposing. I didn't think you would mind to help me, help her.

She wanted him to help someone else learn there was life after slavery? To help them become who they really were under the mask that same slavery forced on you? No, he didn't mind. He was . . . humbled Hawke would still choose him to help with such an important and enormous task. More so, since he had made so many mistakes, getting and keeping his freedom.

"I don't. Mind that is. The formal dining room is fine since it and the kitchen are both right off the front door. She won't run into any missed traps left in the house that way." He watched her face as he said it, waiting to see if, maybe, she'd been kidding, but there was just a bright smile that he really hadn't expected to be sent in his direction again.

"Then eat. Get dressed and meet us down there. One favour though?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you remove the body from the front hall into the main hall? It bothered Orana. Bad memories she said."

Since he could well imagine what type of memories, he nodded.

"Thanks!"

Then she was gone, and he could hear her shoes as she strode down the stairs.

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All while he ate he could hear the sound of the two women working. Hawke's voice, cheerful as always, managed to pull not only a small giggle from the younger woman but he could hear the young elf's timid questions. In the weeks since his disappearance from the slaver caves, to showing up at Hawke's last night the other girl seemed to have been eased into calling Hawke "Mistress" rather than "Master". He thought about joining them right after he'd finished his breakfast but Hawke had said to take his time and he had no clue how long it would take the two women to shovel years of dust and grime out of the room. Though he was sure Hawke had picked that room because no one had died in it and Orana wouldn't have to clean people off the walls. The thought reminded him that he'd promised to move bodies around, so with a sigh he headed down and dragged them from the front entrance, off the side in the great hall. After that he had been planning to head up and get some practice in before lessons, but the warmth in the two voices drew him toward the doorway and had him peeking in.

The first thing he noticed was that they were COVERED in dirt and dust. It was in their hair, on their clothes and both had streaks on their arms and faces. They had stacked the cleaning supplies near the now clean hearth, in a vain attempt to keep the water they were working with warm. They must have started at that end of the room and in the hour and a half he'd been gone they worked their way to the mid-point. There were large bright red pillows in front of the hearth with artist's personal painting boards lying in front. Inkwells and paper stacked neatly on them and each had different books stacked beside those. He was sad to say that the large table that had been in the room had been used as fire wood last winter. Hawke, being the shorter of the two women was on her knees washing the floor. Calen cloth in his mouth seemed to be helping her. Orana, being taller was dusting off surfaces. The room was well-lit with candles, which he didn't understand. In her own home Hawke used her spell to light up whatever area she was working in. It was part of the reason for her giving the master bedroom to her mother. She didn't want any strange flashes of light to bring the Templar's to her door. She claimed the light was clearer and made it easier to see since she could float it wherever she wanted and there was no heat to burn things. Luckily for him Orana seemed to be wondering the same thing as she voice the questions only minutes after he'd thought it.

"Mistress?" Her voice was soft and shy, but it was not tainted by fear as it had been the last time he'd heard her speak. Another disservice he'd done Hawke, implying she just wanted a slave.

"Hmm? Yes, Orana?" Hawke answered distractedly, attacking a spot on the floor as though it had just told her the bakery had no more of those fluffy pastries she loved so much.

"Why did we bring all these candles to use? Why do we just not use your light spell? It is much easier to see the dirt with it."

Hawke stopped attacking to floor long enough to toss the girl small smile.

"That is true, but this is not our house. It's Fenris's and he does not like magic used around him. Since we are borrowing his house to do lessons in we have to respect his wishes on that."

Again the sheer selflessness of this woman astounded him. Even now she cared enough about him to worry over his feelings while she was doing him a favour.

"Ah . . . umm . . . are you really going to teach me to read?" It must have cost the girl greatly to ask the question if the way she was curling in on herself and the tension now screaming off her was any indication. Hawke went back to taking on whatever she was scrubbing on the floor, giving the girl time to collect herself as she answered with warm assurance.

"Yes of course. I said that I would, didn't I? And if I can teach someone as stubborn and pigheaded as Fenris, I should have no trouble teaching you." Nodding at the, now defeated spot on the floor, she scooted her (shapely ass) back a few inches to start on the next section of floor. He shook his head. Thoughts like that were going to get him in trouble, of the seductive, hot, sweaty, mind-blowing kind. It was the mind-blowing part he wanted to avoid and thankfully Orana once again saved him from his thoughts.

"How did he learn to clean?" turning from the shelves to look at Hawke and the hard working dog, that seemed to assist her in all things. Now if the animal could only learn to write the group would never again have to listen to her complain about doing her monthly account statement. A small laugh at that and she held her hand out to the dog, who dropped the cloth into her hand so that Orana (and himself watching from the door) could see that the cloth was fixed in to a smooth shaft of wood.

"My mother and Bethany did one summer. They had my father make this handled rag for him so he wouldn't have to put a dirty cloth in his mouth. Carver had to do Bethany's outdoor chores for a whole month because he bet the dog couldn't learn."

A sad smile on that usually cheerful face and he could feel his arms ache to go in there and hold her till the pain was chased away. Calen saved him from the temptation by bumping her arm with his head and demanding attention.

"Such a considerate Gentleman." She told him softly rubbing behind his ears and causing his tail to start dusting the next part of the floor. "Put Carver in his place that day didn't you?" A small sigh escaped those lips (and he had to forcibly shove his thoughts away from other sounds he'd pulled from them) as she turned to check behind her and see how much was left and saw him watching them. The smile when she saw him was warm and seemed to light up the eyes watching him. Damn it the woman was turning him into a sap! He'd never noticed things like that before and even if he had he would never had put it so . . . girly.

"Fenris." A wealth of emotion and longing in that voice, but before he could say anything, she shook her head and it was wiped clean off her face, which gave him pause to wonder how much of her constant cheer was honest, and how much an act so her family, and now the rest of the troupe wouldn't have cause to worry about her. "Can I ask you another favour?" he tilted his head to the side to show he was listening. "We are running out of soap and polish. Do you think you could run to the market and buy some for us? We are not exactly presentable enough to go shopping in the Hightown market. Please also take Calen with you, it isn't good for him to breath in so much dust."

A small nod as he headed toward the women slowly and held out his hand for the few silvers the task would take. Instead she tipped her whole coin pouch into his hand, a hundred gold or more, all too careful to avoid touching him.

"Again please take your time, there's more dust in here then I thought. If you see anything else that might help with our lessons or in making the room easier to work in, please feel free to pick it up. Also you might want to consider getting the grocer to start bring some small groceries here. I intend to start doing lesson every other day rather than every third . . . work permitting of course."

A sigh escaped but he did manage to nod at her rather than rudely demand to know if she thought sleeping with him made him her servant. He knew she didn't think that and since she'd gotten so dirty trying to help yet another slave (and tiding his house) it seemed a small thing for her to ask, more so since she was providing the money. A short "Ah!" of barely there sound stopped him before he was out the door and he turned to face the other young woman in the room, with what he hope was a small reassuring smile, to avoid farther scaring the skittish girl.

"Have you thought of something else I should pick up Orana?" he couldn't make his voice warm like Hawke could but he could manage blank. He tried to wait patiently while the girl wrung her hands and took several deep breaths for courage.

"Ah . . . umm . . ." she trailed of helplessly lifting her eyes from her feet to look at Hawke helplessly. The mage just smiled at her before shaking her head.

"Nope, you thought of it and so you have to ask." Hawke told her with a small smile that did nothing to ease the steel that had been in her voice when she'd given her edict. Calen slid under the girl's hand and her fingers instantly clenched in his fur, his bulk at her side seemed to give the girl the extra strength she needed.

"Messere Fenris? Would . . . would it be alright if we also cleaned out the kitchen? That . . . way Mistress Hawke and I could make breakfast here, and we could start lessons over it and then, on day when the two of you are not so busy I could make lunch right after. "

The question tumbled out of her mouth fast and with no small amount of stumbling, so it took him a second to unravel it. When he did he took a few more minutes to ponder it. Hawke's mother had made no secret of the fact that she felt he needed to eat more, going so far as to bring or send food to his house at least once a day if she knew he was home. It was an opinion that he knew Hawke shared, so was this really Orana's own idea and honest nervousness, or had Hawke asked the meek woman to ask for her. Having gone back to cleaning the floor during the two elves exchange he could not read Hawke's face to know the answer, so he was left to read his answer off Orana's face. She seemed very nervous but sincere in her question and so he nodded.

"I suppose."

A fairly safe answer he figured. One that would let him back out later if he found he did not like the women spending so much time in the mansion.

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He took his time wondering around the market seeing if there was anything that would help with the lessons and ending up using Hawke's money to buy a plain, but sturdy table in oak that was 6' x 6'. Small enough he could drag it in himself when the merchant's men delivered it in a week but not so small as to make them uncomfortable. He also found some more ink and an abacus so that Orana could also learn numbers. He then followed the dog to the two shops that had the items Hawke had actually requested, finding the simple, clean smelling Fereldan soap Hawke preferred and some cherry scented polish, because the merchant had sold all the other kinds for that day. He had just finished ordering the very basics from the grocer when the bad part of the day found him.

"So, finally decided to clean out that hidey hole of yours then, Broody? And here I was hoping Hawke would have to offer sexual favours for that miracle to occur. Haaa my heroine will just have to go without a knight –in-shining armour for a while longer."

He knew it was the dwarf without turning around, and barely held back his groan of frustration at all the busy-body questions he would shortly be on the end of, so that the dwarf could be assured that his stories were at least close to true . . . sometimes. . . . when it was dirty. Making sure his face was as blank he turned around to find not only the dwarf, but the other elf in their group slightly behind him, ball of yarn clutched in her hand.

"No. Not that's it's any of your business but, Hawke is."

"Hawke? As in our fearless leader, Hawke? Is cleaning your house?"

For once the dwarf looked truly surprised which meant he hadn't seen Hawke since the weekly Wicked Grace night two evenings prior. So that meant the dwarf had simply been teasing him with his earlier statement, not that he thought Hawke would have told him but . . .

"Yes, but just the one room. She wants to teach Orana how to read and thought that she would be more comfortable with learning to read with someone else in the room. Since I can translate anything she doesn't understand into Arcanum and the mansion is close to Hawke's she asked me." Which he thought was a believable enough excuse without admitting to his own weakness, and would give him an excuse for having to be there during all the lessons.

"Oh good! That poor little thing reminds me of a rabbit, always so nervous. I think it'll be good for her to get out of Hawke's house some more." A pause as something occurred to her. "Do you have a little extra time Fenris?"

"Why?" He growled at the blood mage. She just blinked owlishly up at him, always puzzled by his constant dislike where she was concerned.

"Oh! Well, I have oil the Dalish make out of plants and herbs that makes a room smell nice. No magic involved I promise. In fact I make it for the vendors in the Alienage to sell for some extra money. If you guys can walk me back home I'll give you a bottle and then the room won't smell of dust."

"Good idea Daisy! Come on Broody. Let's go, since the women are doing you a favour you can give them this so that they know you appreciate their effort."

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They had gotten the dining room done and had started on the kitchen (which since Fenris had to use it on occasion, wasn't completely horrible.) in the three hours that had passed since Fenris had left. The door slammed, however instead of the deep, smooth voice she was expecting to her, a gravelly, yet strangely light voice called out to them.

"Hawke, you still here?"

"Varric?" Hawke called back. Poking her head out the kitchen door into the front hall, sure enough, there stood Varric, Merril and behind them Fenris. They each held a full basket of stuff, though Hawke could not see the items she'd asked Fenris to bring back with him and Varric's back-pack also seemed to be full.

"Hawke!" Merril cheered cutting off her ponderings and heading over to the other mage. "Oh look at how dirty you are! And your poor clothes! Stay here and I'll dash to Anders he has this potion he uses to clean blood and other things off his clothes after hard healings." With a nod she headed for the door, only to pause half out of it. "Oh! Varric? Can you come with me so I won't get lost?"

Without waiting for his answer she headed over and proceeded to drag him along by the wrist.

"HEY! Daisy wait! My bags still here and full!"

"I know. Hawke can unload it while we're gone and it should be ready when you get back."

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His life fell into something of a routine of after that. Every other morning he was roused from sleep by two sleepy female voices and the smell of breakfast. After that they'd sit down to eat and begin lessons, mostly reading but sometimes they did numbers. More for Orana then him, Denarius had made sure his pet could do basic math. Why waste such a brilliant tool when it could be sent down to the docks to collect important packages? Slowly and almost without his notice the mansion he was staying in was beginning to feel like a home. Orana would wander over on her days off sometimes, when Hawke was out working without him, and have him try some of the new dishes she made before she put them on her Mistress's table. He would have worried about that but the girl seemed to take it as a matter of pride that people said she was the best cook in Hightown, and told him often that the people who treated her cruelly, got grabby with her or called her "knife-ear" were rudely escorted out of the mansion by the Lady of the manor herself and informed that she no longer cared to associate with close-minded fools.

Today was not regular day. He was reading (or trying to read) the Book of Shartan, when his front door banged open and slammed close. Late as it was he would have figured it was Hawke, except that the nearly growled swearing was in Arcanum and Hawke hadn't learned to speak it yet. His suspicions were confirmed when Orana stormed into the study room and marched over to him, grabbing the wrist still covered with the remnants of Hawke's sheet.

"What do you want, Orana?" his voice deadly calm as he tried to hold his temper. Her eyes snapped to his as she let go of his hand, poking her finger at him. Her voice equally calm in her anger.

"You are going to make this right and you're going to do it right now. The Templar's are willing to ignore a lot, but I do not think they will be able to over look the Mistress if she flash fries some noble."

"What?" Now he was just confused. For starters Hawke never needed saving, and since when did Orana learn to be . . . what was Varric's word? Riled.

"Go right now and save the Mistress from a grabby, blackmailing suitor, or I swear I will tell Varric how you abandoned her when she needed you the most."

He growled at the girl but still vanished from his spot using his curse to ghost to Hawke's door without being seen, which was too bad for the Templar peering in Hawke's living room window hoping for a show. He was dead before he even knew Fenris was there and gave the ex-slave a clear view of the room. HIS Hawke had been backed into a corner by some slime ball noble that Fenris had seen following her around the last couple of days. Anger rising he pulled on the markings again and walked through the wall just in time to hear what Hawke was being blackmailed with.

"Now strip you Dog-Lord tease or I will have the Templar outside come in and arrest you as the dangerous Apostate you are." A pause and a lecherous smirk tossed at the cornered mage. "How will you protect your boy-toy slave from the gallows?"

"He's not a slave!" Hawke growled back at the man, lightening bringing to crackle around her hands. For a second he was shocked. Out of all he said she was mad the man called him a slave?

"He will be you Bitch if you don't do what I tell you! Now-"A gurgle filled the room as Fenris cut off the blood flow to the heart and the body dropped to Hawke's feet. Her eyes followed the body's descent before rising to his chin. The sight bothered him, as it was something every slave learned to do. Look at somebody without meeting their eyes, but why would Hawke act like he would hurt her?

More then I already have?

"Fenris." For the first time his name fell out of her mouth a totally blank sound, devoid of the warmth that had always been in it. "Thank you for your help. Although I think someone will notice if he doesn't make it home."

"Not if they both go missing. They will figure he was an apostate who killed the Templar trying to escape."

"Well I'm so glad you have it all figured out, but what about-" She clamped her mouth shut before she could finish the sentence and tossed herself into the chair in front of the fire. "Can I get you something to drink? I think there is still some of Varric's brandy left."

He nodded before waving for her to stay sitting and heading over to pour the drink himself, leaning against the fireplace mantle as he took in the very strange night he was having.

"How often Hawke-"He began slowly, "Does someone threaten you with my freedom to force you into bed with them?"

"My, don't you think highly of yourself?" The words were bitter and angry and since she was no longer looking at him he would bet that he was right. "In case you missed it he threatened to take my freedom, and make ME a slave first, by turning me over to the Templar outside remember. Oh wait! I forgot you agree that everyone born a mage should be slave, as were all just evil monsters, waiting to happen!"

Her voice was on the shrill side when she finished speaking, and she was now standing in between the chair and him, chest heaving and something that looked suspiciously like tears shinning in her eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she flinched back from him and dropped her eyes to the floor, hand coming up between them as if to ward off whatever blow he was about to deal her.

"Forgive me Fenris that . . . was out of line. Please forget that I said anything. This encounter has bothered me more than I thought and I think I shall just go to bed. Please feel free to stay and finish your brandy. I'll see you in the morning for reading lessons."

Eyes still glued to the floor she strode out of the room and the scrabble of claws that followed told him that Calen had already brought Orana back from his house and had followed his master to bed. A minute later Orana filled the doorway eyes sad as she took in the body.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you Messer Fenris but . . . but for once I wanted to save her, the way she always saves me. This has been happening more and more since she bought the mansion and had Varric put it in your name."

A bow in his direction as she scurried out of the room and up the stairs to her bed, leaving Fenris with more then he wanted to think about . . . and bodies to clean up and make disappear.

Chapter End

Okay there will be more chapters, at least three are even already written out ( I like to write things on paper first, i know so old fashioned of me . . but it's let's me see the whole story and read it so i know what to add and take out. ) but as i hate to type you may have to wait awhile for any others, and they may not be in order. Have a good day eveyone!

Ja ne, Kat