#revasfen

        HAWKE IS A strong man, both magically and physically. he can take a lot of damage, and he can deal a lot of damage. it’s hard to bring him down. however, it’s getting harder and harder to stay standing in this fight. blood drips into his eyes, into his mouth and his vision is growing bleary from exhaustion. he leans forward against his staff, breathes hard and he’s prepared for the killing blow.

       but fenris does something that startles both him and his attacker. the elf jumps between them, knocks the other’s sword back with his own and shouts. hawke is thankful, but concerned. to put himself between the assailant and his target is a foolish thing to do, but he knows fenris will not have hawke dying any time soon.

       ` fenris --- `

        they’re looking for him, he knows it. after what he did in kirkwall, something unforgivable, after his actions ignited war and not the proper uprising he had hoped for... he will die if he’s caught. part of him still wonders why hawke did not kill him when he had the chance. it would have been easier for the both of them in the long run, and justice would have been free.

        the sky had been torn open by some force known as ‘the elder one,’ and anders knows that these times are more trying than ever. if authorities don’t catch him and kill him, he’ll be caught up between a fight of rebel mages and templars or slaughtered by demons.

        there is an opposition to the darkness. something called the ‘inquisition.’ perhaps he can go to them, but they are a military and political power that could easily turn him in. at this point, he feels imprisonment or death is better than running for the rest of his life.

                                                          he’s so tired.

        the hike up the mountain takes too much out of him. it’s cold, biting at his face and any bare skin, and the snow reaches up to his knees. it grows more shallow the closer to the fortress he becomes, and the moment he reaches the gates the guards don’t have time to react before he’s collapsing from exhaustion at their feet.

                            ` I WASN’T PLANNING TO. `

        and their mouths practically crush together, but it is welcome. electricity shoots up his spine, makes his skin tingle and he keeps his hands on the other’s cheeks, stroking cheekbones with his calloused thumbs as if fenris is the most fragile thing in thedas. delicate. ekvan is no stranger to fragility---in a way, he is fragile himself. pieces sloppily put back together after being broken over and over. the fire inside him boils his blood, sends heat shooting through his fingers but not enough to ignite a flame.

        ekvan steps forward, one leg pressing between both of fenris’. the dalish moves his hands then, sliding one around to cradle the back of the other elf’s head while the other drops to the small of his back. the thin layer of leather worn by the other is growing to be more and more of an obstacle each passing moment.

send an emotion and i’ll describe how my muse expresses it.

send me that heart to see how my muse would propose to yours / accepting.

        FINDING A SUITABLE ring had been hard enough---something that wasn’t too flashy. something just right. it was a golden band with tiny emeralds embedded in it. he got it because it reminded him of fenris’ eyes. yet figuring out just how to propose had been the hardest part. he could organize something in skyhold. it would be fun for everyone---they needed something light in these dark times.

       but when he sees fenris that morning next to him, waking up with hawke’s heavy red tunic hanging from his shoulders and white hair a mess, he knows it’s time. right then, right there, he will do it. yet he can’t get the words out. they dance on the tip of his tongue before going out of reach. there’s a lump in his throat.

       he slides out of bed, fenris inquires as to where he’s going but he doesn’t respond. he digs the tiny object out of one of the pockets in his satchel, keeps it gripped tightly in his calloused palm before he kneels on the edge of the bed. fenris sits up, eyeing the other incredulously as his hand is taken.

       the elf’s entire body tenses when that ring is slid onto his finger. he stares down at it for a long moment, then meets hawke’s eyes, looking dazed, disoriented, shocked.

       hawke nearly panics, ` i should have asked first, r---mmph---! `

       fenris is kissing him, knocking him back against the bed with full force before sitting atop his hairy chest, wiping desperately at his watery eyes.