"What... is thissssss... crap?"
Urchin nearly flinched as Xenon cursed aloud, but didn't so much as lower what he was holding a single inch. It was hard work at the Black Emporium, but it was rewarding to say the least... even if the pay rate left something to be desired. Having a parcel like this, however, could spell out bad for the mystical shop. And anything that was bad for the shop was bad for Xenon and his temper. All of the above had reputations to uphold.
"Urrrchinnn..." Xenon wheezed. "I sssimply... can't have thisss... in my shop."
He nodded in agreement. It was called The Black Emporium for a reason.
"Ssssomeone... needss to take... care of thisss... for usss..." Xenon continued.
Urchin thought to himself, then lit up with an idea. He knew the perfect person to give the box to, someone who handled these kinds of things on a daily basis! Looking around quickly, he moved to set the box down on the floor and explain further.
"Don't you put that on my floor!" Xenon sharply interrupted. As Urchin straightened with a gasp, the proprietor seemed to settle back down with a sigh. "Besides," he mused aloud. "I may have... thought of... the perfect perssson... to take this to..." Leaning forward as best he could, he ordered, "Take... this box... to Hawke. No one... must sssee you... Now, go."
Urchin huffed aloud, but turned to do as asked. It was tough being a mute while working for someone like Xenon, but it had to be more difficult when one could. He simply couldn't imagine *that*.
o0o0o
"You have some letters waiting on your desk, messere. Funny how they never seem to come while you're away."
"It is, isn't it," Marian Hawke commented, pulling off her boots while she listened to Bodahn. That was just the way things go, however; an unfortunate side effect that came with the title of Champion- constant letters. The spam letters, she could understand; everyone needed a job. The urgent letters she could understand, as well; the Qunari may be gone, but that didn't mean nug shit to a town like Kirkwall, which may as well be an attractant of trouble. But that last letter to help some poor bastard find a dog named Taffy?
With a name like that, Hawke believed the poor thing purosely ran off. She could only hope it avoided Darktown, as it wouldn't last five minutes without being eaten.
Expelling a long breath, she shrugged out of her armor, walking into the parlor. Both dwarves were in their usual spot- being assured that Sandal was holding a lizard and not a salamander. Her Mabari, Leo, was parked next to her desk, staring earnestly at a plain box on top of it. Hawke stopped at the sight, considering the options of what it could be. A thankful supporter? A vengeful enemy? Or worse...
"Bodahn?" she asked, pointing to the box in question. "Who delivered this?"
"I don't rightly know," he helplessly answered. "It was there, amongst the rest of your mail."
"Enchantment!" Sandal added.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to hope it's not something too overly creepy..." Hawke wondered. Leo, of course, was still staring at the damn thing. Maybe it was scraps from the butcher?
"What about that nice Reinhardt fellow?" Bodahn said. "He certainly seems to fancy you."
"Like I said, I hope it's not something creepy." The last thing she needed was some twisted lover's offering, built entirely out of hero worship. Besides, nearly all of Kirkwall knew she had to be taken by now, if the constant presence of Anders in Hightown wasn't a clue. And speaking of, once he came back from his duties in Darktown, she'd have to take a look at his staff-
A jolt of movement from her desk snapped her attention to it. The box was now on its side, the various envelopes toppled over with it. Leo gave the box a bark of warning, his paws on her chair to boost him up for a closer look. "What the..." Hawke murmured, stepping closer. As she uprighted the box, she flinched back as a muffled collection of screams rang out. "What in the Void?!"
What sounded like a tiny collection of people were now in a box on her desk... what if they couldn't breathe? How did they get there? And why here, of all places? "I'm going to regret this..." she moaned aloud, opening the ties with trepid movements.
o0o0o
Anders shut the door behind him, slightly wearied from the day behind him. He turned to lock the door behind him, calling into the quiet house. "Hawke, I'm back!" As an impish giggle answered, a smile played across his face. Ah, so she was to play *this* game with him... "Marian," he called again, turning towards the parlor-
And coming face to face to the smallest person he'd ever seen. If it could be called that. Surrounded by a shimmering green light, a woman in a rich green dress and stockings was hovering in the air before him, wings beating quickly. Tendrils of auburn hair were being blown about her tiny shoulders as her hands were planted on her hips. From the looks of it, she couldn't be any larger than his finger, but that lasted until she spoke:
"Florabel's name is NOT Marian."
Okay, so the voice was just as tiny as she was. But the tone behind it still came across in a way he knew very well, having heard it the few times someone was unfortunate enough to piss off Hawke. Blinking slowly at her, he stated the only thing that came to mind: "Oh."
"Is that *all* Big Feather Man has to say to Florabel?"
Now the tiny woman was crossing her arms. Every warning bell in his head was ringing, and he knew that if there was ever a time to grovel then now would be it... but for Andraste's sake, the woman could fit into his palm and have room to spare! Not to mention her semi-confusing speech to begin with... "Who's Florabel?"
Her wings beat faster as her hands disappeared into the folds of her green skirt, very tiny spots of red blooming on her face. In a move he could barely track, her hands were flung back out, shooting something right into his face before he could react. In reaction, he ducked his head down, wiping at a slightly gritty something that quickly dissolved. Giving a last pass with his hands, he deemed them clear enough to see out of and straightened, his lids daring to open, before shooting wide with shock.
Everything was green.
Ev-ery-thing.
Was *green*.
The torches gave off a green flame. The walls, floor, and ceiling were polished green to the point of him being able to see himself. His clothes- his hands! "Oh Maker..." He really stepped in it this time. "Marian!" Anders tried again, scrubbing his eyes in vain.
"In here," she called back.
Taking cautious steps, lest this Florabel have friends he could unknowingly piss off, he entered an equally green manor to find the world had exploded to chaos. Bodahn was trying to wrest a ladle away from a small group of lights. Oranna was hiding under a table, being half-shielded by Hawke who was swatting them away whenever they buzzed close. Sandal, true to form, was trying to catch one, shouting 'Enchantment!' every so often. "What's going on?" Anders asked, dodging a light that buzzed by his ear.
"I have no clue!" Hawke replied. "They came from this box that landed on my doorstep, and it's been like wrangling cats ever since!"
"Kitties!" a shrill cry echoed, as every light in the room abandoned their mischievous mission to suddenly swarm Hawke.
"Damn!" Hawke shouted, getting Oranna just barely out of the way before she was surrounded by yammering voices, overwhelming her with talk of tails and paws and balls of yarn.
That is, until one spoke above the rest. "Wait! Fae brethren, the Big Feather Man is among us!"
"Uh oh..." Anders flatly answered, seeing the attention of many identical green eyes turn his way.
A collective of tiny swords were unsheathed, making the mage tense. A mind blast should be able to stop the collective lot from doing any serious damage... but it could possibly kill them, tiny as they are, his conscience warned.
"CHARGE!" a shrill order sounded.
"STOP!" Hawke countered, stepping forward. Remarkably, they all listened, pausing mid-motion and filling the silent air with the hum of multiple wings. "Line up!" she continued, pointing to a spot before her. Each fae did as she asked, again, in silence. Waiting until the last fell into line, she gathered her thoughts together before speaking. "Who are you?"
"We are fae, Big Hawke Lady," one voice replied. "Unless you asked only one of us who we were..."
"What is a fae?"
"We are, silly! Beings of the earth that share the magic it has to offer!"
"Does this include turning everything green?" Anders asked, already wishing this... whatever it was would fade, fast.
"That's what you see?" Hawke interrupted.
Just as Anders' stomach sank, this Florabel answered. "It does! Isn't that wonderful?"
"Maker's breath... how long does this last?"
Florabel seemed to grow sheepish here. "We don't know..."
"'We'?" Anders echoed.
"Well, the Big People are easy," Florabel reasoned. "It's the four-legged we may not know too much about."
Hawke had a bad feeling about this... "Where's Leo?" A lonesome whine from the ceiling drifted down to her, prompting an exasperated facepalm. "Bring him down here, now."
"That we can do," Florabel replied. "But Florabel should warn you now: he might not stay down here." With that, the group of fae set off to escort "Big Hawke Lady's four-legger" from the chandelier.
She shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around the recent turn of events as Anders joined, rubbing his eyes hard. "Can't imagine what could be worse than this," Anders groused, blinking rapidly.
Hawke glanced at him, rubbing at her temples shortly after. "You'd be surprised."
That familiar feeling returned to his gut, and not for the first time he wondered just how long the effects of this 'glitter missle' would be. "Should I ask?"
"... I've been trying hard to not stare at your fluffy cat tail, don't give me a reason to start now. Or your whiskers... or matching ears..."
Anders chuckled. "Is it a handsome tail?" he teased, half turning his butt to her.
"Don't!" Hawke warned around a giggle.
"So, Champion, what are you going to do about this?"
Marian's eyes landed on a circle of fae successfully evading Sandal's attempts of capture. She'd certainly have to hide them from the enchanter, because Andraste help those facing down a fae-and-Sandal-enchanted rune... Maker, she was already making plans around them?! "I'll let you know when I figure that out," she stated.