#marric

Merric

Walhart

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With the announcement that there will be no more DA2 continuation for Hawke's story I thought it was time to post a bit of post game Head Canon.

I imagine Marric still got into trouble even after leaving Kirkwall, because you don't break patterns like that easily. Some time after Anders leaves the group They have a run in with some rogue templars, Marric's is injured and knocked out so he can't heal his wounded eye in time.

Nevertheless they come out on top and though Marric looses sight in that eye he's ultimately ok, though poor Fenris likely almost had a heart attack.

"I'll be ok Fenris, I have another one!"

"Damnit don't joke about this Hawke!"

Have I mentioned I love playful flirting between couples? Because I do.

And I love that once you get to Act 2 you get the impression that a Hawke and Fenris on the romance path have been flirting back and forth a bit during the time skip.

DA chibi X-Mas trade with spiderkiss :3 Hope you like it!

I know it's a little early, but I'm trying to knock the digital trades out of the way.

Ok since people liked my little unfinished drabble here's something that actually has a conclusion.

This is actually something I did for the Dragon age kinkmeme all the way back in June but I'm really happy with it. It's one of those short little one shots that I actually finished, the prompt was for Fenris to have a 'thing' for m!Hawke's human ears, I remembered one of my older drawings of Marric and Fenris and it went from there. So here it is, a little tweaked and with Marric's name back in it since as anon I stuck with just 'Hawke'

“You're lucky you're so cute, or I wouldn't be doing this.” Marric said aloud while adding silently to himself I'm lucky you're drunk enough to not kill me for it and then I hope he doesn't throw up over me.

The party at the Hanged Man celebrating the Hawkes moving into their new estate in high town had ended up running rather late and somehow Fenris had ended up pleasantly drunk, something he suspected Isabela had a hand in. At the time he'd thought it would be a good idea to get the inebriated elf away from the frisky pirate and other bar patrons and elected to walk with him back to high town. After seeing Fenris nearly stumble on top of the rusty pikes that seemed to be everywhere in the low town streets Marric had hoisted the wobbly elf onto his back. It was late so he wasn't too worried about being spotted like this and Fenris was drunk enough not to complain for more then a moment.

He used to carry Bethany like this, when they were younger and she'd be tired from walking too far. She'd jump on his back, locking her arms around his neck while he supported her legs under her knees, running them ahead of the rest of the family for a while. It was his duty as big brother.

He'd never thought he'd be doing it for Fenris though, he'd figured the elf would be really light, but he was heavier then he looked. But then he was a warrior, all muscle and armor. The weight however wasn't the distracting thing, it was more having Fenris' head right next to his over his shoulder, feeling his breath on his neck, his soft hair against his cheek and every time he spoke, that voice speaking right into his ear, it did terrible things to him and his imagination.

But he tried to push those thoughts to the back of his head. Sure he'd flirted with Fenris and the elf didn't seem put off, even flirted back once, but then he'd turn around and talk about how mages couldn't be trusted and Marric couldn't help but take it as a firm 'never going to happen mage.'. Plus Fenris was drunk, even if he hadn't smelt like a winery Marric wasn't going to take advantage. All he had to do was carry him the rest of the way back to the mansion he was squatting in, dump him into his bed and then maybe tease him about it for the rest of the week. It would make up for the sleepless nights he was going to get from memories of the warrior pressed against his back.

Oh boy, but now Fenris was chucking about something, and wasn't that one of his favourite sounds? At least they were nearly there. Fenris had lifted his head from where he'd been resting it on Marric's shoulder and he could feel the halting breath against his neck and then his ear.

“Glad you're still in a good mood.”

“They're so...round...” Fenris said, obviously still drunk, his accent noticeably thicker.

“And what would these round things be-” he was cut off by making a rather undignified yelp when it became apparent that the nose brushing against his ear wasn't accidental by the lips that followed it. Lips, Fenris' lips, brushing against the shell of his ear and trailing down to the lobe.

He almost dropped him and came to an abrupt stop at the side of the thankfully empty street.

“Did you just-?”

“I've never seen human ears so close before...”

“Fenris, you're drunk.” Marric felt the need to point out, craning his neck and try and look at the elf on his back. Fenris warped an arm more securely around his neck, still eyeing the humans ears.

“They're softer then I thought they'd be...” he rumbled before leaning forward and catching Marric's earlobe between his teeth and the mage felt his tongue glide across the trapped flesh.

Marric may have gone cross eyed... he wasn't sure, all he could think about was Fenris's arms wrapped around him and his mouth on his skin, making him go all tingly. He didn't even think his ears were such a sensitive spot, no one he'd been with had been concerned with that part of his body before. Now it was making him feel weak in the knees... not the best thing to happen when he was carrying a drunk and apparently frisky elf.

“F-Fenris stop.” Oh that was the last thing Marric wanted him to do, no he would have been quite content to let Fenris play with his ear as long as he wanted. “You're drunk, I need to get you home and I can't do that with you fondling my....guh”

Fenris's mouth had started to move from the earlobe, working his way up the edge with light pressure from his teeth and lips, wet tongue touching now and then. The mage thought he was going to melt into a puddle of contented goo right there in the Hightown street. Wouldn't that be a great way to greet the new neighbours?

“Did you say something...?” Fenris all but slurred

Marric scowled, the drunk warrior had no right sounding that out of it when he'd been molesting his ear so delicately. Reminding himself again that drunk Fenris was strictly off limits, he made an effort to hike him up a bit further on his back, the elf tightened his grip before he settled and his head fell drowsily against his shoulder again.

The apostate refused to be disappointed and concentrated on carting the elf the rest of the way home.

*****

Two days later Marric gathered Merrill, Varric and Fenris for some patrolling along the coast, checking out a tip from Aveline about bandits hiding out there. He found the elven warrior by his side while Varric and Merrill took up the rear.

“Hawke... that night after the party...”

“Yes?”

“I... understand you helped me get back to the mansion... my apologies if I caused you any inconvenience.” Fenris said softly.

Marric considered him for a moment, did he really not remember any of it?

“Hey, no problem buddy.” He grinned in that way he knew was charming and ran a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear as casually as he could manage.

because I can never finish anything I start and unless it's REALLY short.

This started off as a fic I started months and months ago about Marric and Fenris set during act 1 before the deep roads. I wanted to theme it around how apostate Hawke and Fenris can relate to being hunted but... I'm not that good a writer because I fail at going from Idea to Product.

So what this is is a short unfinished drabble in which Marric runs from templars and runs into Fenris while doing so. It's from Marric POV and has some of my head canon for his healing magic and some other stuff

***

“Excuse me! Pardon me! OutofthewayAHHHH!” Marric Hawke squawked as he almost ran head long into a woman carrying three baskets full of washing piled on top of each other. Thinking quickly he grabbed her arms spinning them around until he was past her before letting her go to fall to the ground, the baskets spilling onto the dirt. He didn't look back as he heard the clanking of metal armor and darted off through the crowds of people once more, diving down the nearest alleyway he could find to try and slip out of the Templar's line of sight. * He was usually so careful, his father had drilled into him so many times to not use magic in public, no matter the circumstance. He'd been making his way back to Gamlan's hovel in lowtown when he'd heard the gurgling scream, followed by others. A child, no more the twelve, was impaled on one of the rows of spikes on the side of the stairs, one was all the way through his side while another was digging into his back. By all his fathers rules he should have steeled himself and just walked away, the injuries were severe and there was no guarantee he could save him even with his magic and there were far too many people gathered around staring. But Marric could see the boy's eyes, wide and terrified, his little friend standing next to him, shaking, looking around desperately, pleading for someone to help. He'd been moving through the crowd before he knew what he was doing, at least having the sense to pull his hood over his head. He grabbed one of the onlookers to help him lift the boy up off the spikes, immediately pressing his hand to the boy's side where the spike had gone clean through and surrounding it in a light blue healing glow to stop the blood escaping the now terribly open wound. He'd heard gasps from the crowd, the man helping him hold the boy faltered momentarily but kept his grip until they had the boy safely on the ground. Marric was meanwhile in that desperate place he always was when he used healing magic, nothing going through his head but thoughts of fix it fix it make it better fix it stop bleeding stop the blood fix it fix it fix it. He didn't have the control or precision that Anders did and healing ended up taking more out of him then was really needed. He once again told himself he really should ask the other mage for a few lessons. Thankfully he could feel the muscle and tissue stitching back together, the child was going to live. He felt drained to almost nothing by the time he felt safe to stop. There was still a crowd of people around watching him and the child who was breathing more comfortably now, though he would still need time to recover fully. Marric stood back and froze however when he heard the unmistakable clank of metal armor. “That's him! That's the mage, I saw him using magic!” Marric felt like his gut suddenly wanted to bury itself in the ground “No good deed and all that.” he muttered with a false smile before he bolted, not bothering to look back. * Ever since helping Anders find Karl he'd had nightmares about being caught and sent to the Gallows, he'd never survive there, he knew he wouldn't. He couldn't keep his mouth shut, especially when people tried to tell him what to do and he was far too skilled at needling people to the point of frustration for his own good. He liked those things about himself normally, but if the Templars caught him they wouldn't find it funny or charming... and then they would take away everything that made him him. Turn him into a subservient, emotionless zombie like poor Karl had been. He checked behind him, seeing the Templars skid around the corner he picked up his pace, ducking into the next street full of people. It would slow them down but he needed to hide while they couldn't see him. Thinking a quick thanks to The Maker he saw a promising spot behind a forgotten pile of boxes. “Hawke?” Fenris. Of all people he'd run into, it would be the elf who didn't much like him or mages in general. “Maker's blue balls.” He muttered to himsef and grabbed the warrior by the wrist and flung them both into the hiding spot. “Just playing a bit of Templar hide and seek.” he hissed, trying to sound confident and flippant despite the situation. Fenris however was glaring at his hands, which Marric now remembered were covered in blood. Fenris’ gauntlet was stained where he’d grabbed him. Marric would have smacked himself in the face if it wouldn't have left blood there too. Of course seeing a mage with blood all over him Fenris' first thoughts would be blood magic. “This is not what it looks like. If you want me to give you an explanation you'll have to stay quiet.” or I wont be around to be telling anyone anything he gave the elf a pleading look as he tried to sink even closer into the hiding place. Fenris was glaring at him with what he could only identify as contempt and suspicion and for a moment he thought the warrior would stand up and call the mage hunters over. But he didn't. He stayed put and as the sound of the Templars came closer he didn't make a sound. Marric froze and found himself holding his breath, the sound of his racing pulse thumping in his ears. If they found him there was the option of fighting back, especially if he could talk Fenris to his side. But Marric didn't want to fight Templars, he wanted to stay happily under the radar and not get involved with them at all. It was just so much easier for everyone for him to run and hide. Dignity and pride were vastly overrated as far as Marric was concerned. “You can breathe again. They've gone.” Fenris murmured and Marric opened his eyes to see the elven warrior looking down on him with one eyebrow raised, perhaps surprised to see Hawke trying to become one with the barrels they were hiding behind. The mage picked himself up enough to peek over the barrels, making doubly sure the Templars were taking their search much further down the street.

“That... was a close one.” Marric sighed in relief, grabbing a cloth from his pocket that he normally used to wipe blood off his staff after fights. He was stopped however when Fenris caught his wrist in a forceful grip.

“You said you could explain. You'd better do so.” Fenris all but growled at him before adding with a sneer “I should have known your bumbling good nature was all an act. It seems even you could not resist the call of blood magic for long.”

“Oh I assure you the bumbling isn't an act, I barely know where I am half the time... wait a minute you think I'm good natured?” and there it was, the kind of rambling that would surely get him killed one day. Though to be honest he had managed to pry a laugh or two out of Fenris in the past, which he always took as a personal achievement. Not to mention Fenris had a really nice smile... well, when he wasn't angry like he was now.

Fenris, after a momentary quirk, tightened his grip on his wrist.

“Ow, ow! Ok, I get it, no more joking! I promise.” Marric bought his free hand up in a signal for mercy. He was just so relieved he wanted to laugh and joke now his close call with the Templars was over. He still had to convince Fenris he hadn't given over to blood magic.

“This blood isn't from or for blood magic, it's not even mine! ...no wait, that didn't sound the way I wanted it to. Point is; those spikes that Aveline is always saying are a danger turned out to be just that. Some kids must have been running around and one fell on them. I heard the scream and ran over, I couldn't just let the kid die could I?”

Fenris' grip lessened somewhat, though he still looked suspicious. “You expect me to believe you, an apostate who has been hiding most of your life, used magic in broad daylight in front of a crowd of witnesses to heal one child?”

Marric almost took offence and jerked his hand out of Fenris' lessened grip. “Oh and using blood magic in broad daylight near templars is so much more credible?” He started to wipe the blood from his hands, though a lot of it had dried now. “The kid was going to die. I wasn't thinking about getting caught, I just knew I could do something so I did it.”

Fenris looked about to say something before he paused, seemed to consider his words and started again “You can't help every person that's in trouble Hawke, surely you know this. Or do you intend to perhaps open up a clinic next to the abomination's?”

It was Marric's turn to raise his eyebrow at Fenris, not sure if he was being chastised or teased. At least the warrior seemed to believe he hadn't used blood magic.

“Yes dad, I'll be a very good little apostate from now on. Shall I go live in a hut in the middle of the woods to be extra safe?” He clapped his hands together and tilted his head to one side in exaggerated sincerity.

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