Other Fan Fiction ❯ Stupid In Love ❯ Regret is a harsher mistress than gravity ( Chapter 3 )

I do not own Dragon Age or its characters.

I do not make any money off the stories I've written for it.

Unless you count the fact that I can't sleep or work when a story takes hold, so writing it allows me to get back to being productive. But I don't think that Bioware can sue me for that.

Stupid In Love

Chapter 3

“You are drinking much more than normal, my friend.”

Fenris glared between swigs from the bottle of wine he held firmly in his grasp. Six empty bottles littered the table where he was sitting.

“At least tell me whether we're celebrating so I can join in or commiserating so I can prepare to drag your drunk ass home later,” the dwarf commented.

“You don't need to bother worrying about getting me home. I'm hoping that I'll appear drunk enough that someone will actually try to jump me on the way. I'm in the mood to kill someone deserving.”

“Keep drinking like that, and you won't be in any state to stop them from finishing you off and looting your corpse.” Varric mused. “But seriously, what's got you in such a state anyway? I sense a story here, and you know I can't let THAT go.”

The warrior elf sighed and closed his eyes. No. Stories were Varric's lifeblood. He wouldn't stop until he heard the whole story. Sighing again, he commented, “I'm a fool.”

Cocking his head to the side, the beardless dwarf replied, “O…kay. If you say so. I'm not about to contradict you when you're so emphatic, you know. But I highly doubt foolishness is enough to take you from brooding to suicidal. So what's the deal?”

“I had thought that I was immune to fear. But I was wrong, Varric. I was wrong.” He upended the bottle and drank it to the dregs, then raised his hand to request another bottle.

“The elf that single-handedly escaped the Tevinter Imperium, bravely standing up to every bounty hunter that comes to attempt to steal him back? What on earth could frighten you?”

A look of despair crossed his face and he dropped his head onto his folded arms on the tabletop. Muffled by the table and his sleeves, the word “Hawke,” could be softly heard.

Eyebrows raised, Varric couldn't help the exclamation of surprise. “Hawke? Why on earth would you be scared of Hawke? She's only scary to darkspawn, slavers, blood mages, and other monsters. She's like a certified good guy. It's what she does, who she is. So unless you've taken to kicking puppies in your off hours, I can't imagine how…”

Groaning, Fenris shook his head, but did not raise it from his arms. “Where's that bottle of wine?!” he groused.

Sitting up straight, the dwarf thought his eyebrows may have just shot up over the top of his head as the flash of insight suddenly made things clear. It explained why he snapped at her after Hadriana's death - and so much more. “Oh. …OH! …I hadn't… Wow. You… Wow. So… Um… What happened?”

He raised his head as he heard the waitress drop the bottle on the table for him. He reached for the bottle, but Varric had snatched it away, giving him a look that said, “Speak and you'll get it back. Keep quiet and I'll make you miserable.”

Sighing and closing his eyes, hand still outstretched for the bottle, Fenris said, “I… We…” He blushed and turned away. “And then, I left.”

Varric stared at him, dumbfounded, and Fenris snatched the bottle, drinking from it soundly. “So, you… and Hawke…? And then, you left?”

Without ceasing his drinking, the elf nodded, eyes closed again in shame.

Complete disbelief in his voice, Varric exclaimed, “Why?!” Then he shook his head and tried again. “I mean, I'm a dwarf, and she's not exactly even my type, but if I ever got her into MY bed… you LEFT?”

Finally pulling the bottle away from his lips, he muttered, “I… was selfish. I just wanted a moment of happiness. But then, when I had it, I wanted more. I wanted… her. All of her. Forever.”

Varric's brow was furrowed and he blinked at the elf as if he were insane.

“In that one moment, I wanted to tie her up, hide her away from everyone else. Keep her to myself. So, I had to leave.” He looked at his diminutive friend despairingly. “Don't you see? She's beautiful and free. She deserves… so much more. I could never be worthy of even that one moment of happiness she gave me. Denarius will come for me. If she is tied to me… I just want her to be free.”

Wonderingly, Varric whispered, “You're in love with her.”

He took another swig and closed his eyes, sadness painting his features, and utter despair. “I am not worthy of her.”

“My friend, I don't think love worries about who's worthy of whom.”

“Perhaps not. But I do. Besides - a woman like that, she could be with anyone she wanted. Staying by her side, seeing her happy with someone else, that will be my punishment. A fitting one for ever wishing her to be bound. She is no slave. To me or anyone.”

“Maybe you've never heard this before, but love, it binds and frees at the same time. It enslaves you and sets you freer than you've ever been. I don't think someone who loves you would mind being bound to you - that's what love does. Did you ever think she might actually enjoy being with you? She did choose you for her bed, after all - that's not something to take lightly.”

Shaking his head, he replied, “I left. I ran away. Told her making love had brought back memories of my past life, and that losing them again afterwards was just too painful. It did happen, it was painful, but…” He drank some more. “I'm just Danarius' runaway pet. A coward. And running away seems to be what I do best. She deserves better.”

“Oh, elf.” Varric set to watching his friend become plastered. There truly wasn't much else he could do.