Fenris sat in his pigsty of a mansion thinking about two things...Hawke, and what she saw in that elf Zevran. What was so special about him? He's a rouge a lot of elves especially those of the Dalish were rouges. There was a sharp knock on the door, interrupting the elf's brooding. "Vashedan." Fenris said standing up heading for the door and opening it. "What?" He said flatly.
There was a small and very familiar elf standing on the doorstep. Zevran quirked a brow and sighed as he checked over his fingernails, positively nonplussed. "She warned me you would do that," he muttered, shaking his golden hair over his shoulder and glancing up to look the other elf in the eye. The late evening sun hit his golden eyes, glinting as they looked Fenris up and down with an unreadable but faintly interested expression.
"What do you want Zevran, can't you see that I'm busy?" Fenris said walking back inside starting to close the door.
"Are you coming or not?" Zevran responded impatiently. "We are due at the Hanged Man. Or have you forgotten already?" He dropped his hands to his hips, cocking them to one side as he pursed his lips. "Come, my friend, I thought gambling with Hawke, Varric, and Isabela lightened your determinedly dour mood. Or has that changed when I wasn't watching you?" A slight smirk touched the corner of his lips and his golden eyes glittered with mischief.
Fenris scowled, he did forget everyone was meeting tonight. He didn't want to admit it though, so he grabbed his blade, stepped outside, closed the door, and pushed past Zevran heading towards the Hanged Man. With more anger and broodiness in his step than usual.
Zevran made a face, perplexed. He exhaled sharply through his nose, jogging to catch up to his companion. "You have an apology for me, yes? I do not normally accept such manhandling." Any other time he would crack a bedroom joke to lighten the mood, but he rather valued keeping his head right where it was at the moment. He was having a difficult time keeping the annoyance out of his voice as it was.
Fenris continued to walk, not looking at Zevran. "I'm sorry." Fenris said in his Broody tone.
"Would it kill you to mean it?" Zevran said waspishly. "What is your problem, anyway?" He'd already had to deal with Isabela's abuse today and a distant Hawke strong arming him into retrieving the angry elf. If he didn't get either a drink or some "fun" soon, he was going to kill somebody. To be honest, he wasn't particular as to whom at the moment.
Fenris stopped in his tracks and turned to Zevran. "Why are you even still here? Hawke saved you from your crow problem, why haven't you left yet?" Fenris said a slight hint of jealousy in his voice.
Zevran scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is that what this is about?" His tilted his chin up, his full lips twisting into a snide grimace. "Why don't you ask Hawke if you want to know so badly?"
"Because Hawke never gives me a straight answer, she always ends up giggling and changing the subject." Fenris said his scowl no shifting an inch.
"Oh, and should that bother you?" Zevran coolly, narrowing his eyes. "Last I recall, Hawke was not involved with you."
Fenris blushed and cleared his throat. "She's not, I just want to know what she see's in you." Fenris said looking around.
Zevran stopped, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. After a moment, he started laughing.
"What's so funny?" Fenris said sounding angry again.
The Antivan took a deep breath, his laughter slowly dying. "You think Hawke and I-?" He chuckled softly and rested his hands on his back. "No, my dear Fenris."
Fenris only blushed more. "That's not what I-" He paused a moment trying to think of something to say, but drew a huge blank. Fenris stood there now looking like a huge idiot.
Zevran took a deep breath, still grinning. "A drink?" he offered after a moment, glancing up to meet his companion's green eyes.
Fenris stuttered a moment, before sighing. "Yes." Fenris said admitting defeat and meeting Zevran's golden eyes for a moment before looking down and blushing then continued the walk to the Hanged Man.
The Antivan elf strode along beside him, chin high and practically preening in the evening sun. After a few moments, as they worked their way through the crowds on the stairs between Hightown and Lowtown, he spoke. "So, are you pursuing Hawke then? Seeking company of a sort?"
Fenris shook his head. "No not pursuing Hawke, she's in love with that dammed abomination Anders." Fenris said sounding annoyed, then he admitted to Zevran. "But yes I have been seeking company, I just don't know who." Fenris said sighing.
Zevran stopped in his tracks, resting his fingers on his chin thoughtfully. "Is that so?" he said coyly, turning around to face the taller elf. "And do you have any. . . 'requirements' of this person?"
Fenris thought for a moment. "No, I suppose not, unless they don't care that I'm an elf, an escaped slave, or that the fact I'm a walking lyrium vein...wow, I guess there's a lot of requirements then." Fenris said with a not really surprised tone, shrugging, and continuing towards the Hanged Man.
Zevran quirked a brow, smiling to himself as the followed behind his companion. The tavern was crowded in the early evening, human packing the bar calling for drinks. Zevran shrugged and slipped through the crowd, ducking around rather large man carrying several pints. They spotted Hawke against the back wall already at a table with Isabela, Varric, Merrill and Donnic. The elf paused a moment, glancing back to watch Fenris as he realized that Hawke was seated in Ander's lap, her slender fingers laced around the mage's shoulders.
Fenris saw Hawke and Anders. "Disgusting." He said to himself as he found the seat farthest away from the abomination and sat down. Fenris couldn't help but glare at the mages across the table, Hawke was one thing, he owed a debt to her, but Anders, given the opportunity, he would kill him.
Someone sat down at the bench next to him. Zevran lightly touched his elbow, tilting his head and he looked meaningfully between the mages and Fenris. After making sure no one, especially Isabela, was listening, he leaned closer. "You want to be here?"
Fenris broke his gaze of the mages, and glanced at Zevran. "In all honesty, no. Anywhere is better than here." Fenris said quietly enough so no one could hear.
"There are other places to drink," Zevran said quietly. "Though, I am new to the city. Perhaps you would like to show me around, as it were? I'm sure we could find enough trouble to vent your frustrations on, my friend, if blood is what you desire." The elf winked coyly.
Fenris gave a small nod."Lets get out of here." He said standing up and leaving the Hanged Man.
Zevran took a deep breath of the cool evening air, his eyes bright. This city was so busy, filled with what seemed like infinite sights, smells, and sounds. Even Denerim hadn't been quite this chaotic. He loved it. It reminded him, with no small pang of regret, of the markets near the docks of Antiva.
Fenris stood a few feet from Zevran starring off towards the gallows. The scowl on Fenris's face had disappeared and was replaced with a smirk. "Do you think Hawke would hate me if I turned her abomination over to the Templars?" He said sounding like he was kidding, but also sounding like a plan B if he couldn't kill Anders himself.
The Antivan chuckled darkly, glancing back. "There is nothing more terrifying than a woman scorned. With that in mind, give that woman magic. Whatever elation you might feel at your abomination's destruction would be short lived as soon as Hawke got hold of you. In short, temping but not worth the risk." He turned back suddenly, approaching the taller elf. "Surely there are other methods of distracting yourself," Zevran breathed, his voice dropping to an almost husky tone as he spoke lightly into his companion's neck, his warm breath dancing over Fenris's skin. Smirking, he pulled back just far enough to let the cold air fill his absence and drew one of his daggers, running a finger along the keen edge. "So I hear from your dwarven storyteller, there are a number of ruffians and thugs in the darker streets. A few of them carry mages with them, so the rumors go. Perhaps a little bloodletting will ease the tension from your shoulders." He laughed softly. "And if I might say, you are so very. . . very tense."
Fenris stood there a moment before snapping back to reality, he cleared his throat. "Uh...yes thugs...lets go find some." Fenris said blushing a bit and walking towards Hightown, where he assumed most thugs would be this time of night.
Zevran watched him walk away a moment, admiring his long legs and the hint of skin shown by the back of his tunic. If this went his way, he'd be able to fully indulge himself tonight. Blood, alcohol, and sex; what more could a Crow ask for? They meandered through the crowded street, the Antivan following Fenris's lead through the dusty maze that was Lowtown.