*sighs* You'd think I'd finish something one of these days instead of taking on more work/play...
Another Dragon Age 2 fic, only with humor. There will be angst (this IS Fenris we're talking about) but mostly humor.
Warnings: Spoilers if you haven't played the game (I'm still working on it myself). I'm not going to use a whole lot of game dialogue; if you want that, play the game or look up the wiki. There is slight Fenris abuse in this chapter (of the humorous kind). My Hawke is somewhat ambiguous appearance wise, but she is a Mage. This is a way to try to show why I think I ended up with full friendship with Fenris even though my Hawke has sparkly fingers. Rating is currently T for implied violence, but will go up for graphic violence/sexy times(maybe) later on. Also, I will take liberties with the game universe. I was ticked when I saw that you could only specialize in Force, Healing, or Blood Magic, for example. I was also miffed at the lack of grey choices/compromises. Since this is fan fiction, I will play around with it a little.
One last warning: I have an odd sense of humor, in case you haven't read my other works.
Critiques are appreciated and welcomed, flames are ignored unless you have a good point, and begging for updates will most likely not make me post any faster. I'm working on several other fics at the moment, so it might be some time before I update this one.
Other than that, enjoy!
Fenris would have you (and himself) believe that he is a simple man, with simple means and simple flaws. Yes, he had a few expensive tastes, but could you really begrudge him a few bottles of wine every once in a while? Considering what he probably started out with, he thought spending a few coin now and again to celebrate his fortune wasn't pushing his luck too much.
So he could be forgiven for mistaking his current company for being all warriors or rogues. He had had a long night of stalking, waiting, and finally rushing to try to rescue the poor fools who had taken his bait from the slavers who were frantically trying to get him back to his former master before the old coot died of a stress-induced aneurysm.
He arrived in the nick of time to prevent a larger ambush, and made a rather snazzy entrance (if he did say so himself) to the raised eyebrows of his current company. A red-head from the city guard, a young man with a sour look on his face, a beardless dwarf with a cross-bow, and her with her handy staff and hooded features all gaped at him as he discreetly tried to shake off the blood from his gauntlets. It probably didn't make such a good first impression to have blood dribbling down your leg from the meaty remains of your enemy's heart. Oops.
He introduced himself, sheepishly offered his apologies for the deception and received their names in turn. Varric was the dwarf, a storyteller apparently. The ginger woman was Aveline of the City Guard. The sour-looking young man was Carver, who was the brother of the other woman who went by her surname only: Hawke.
He enlisted their help without much fanfare, much to his surprise, and they proceeded to his old master's estate forthwith. He did not speak very much, but he did manage to catch a few snatches of conversation behind him as his new companions followed him to Hightown. It was…interesting, to say the least.
"So, Carver," the dwarf said at one point. "How should I describe you in the story? Heroic and handsome? Dark and brooding? How should I spin it?"
"You'll spin it whichever way you wish, no matter what I say. Like you always do about my lovely sister."
"Hey, Hawke is interesting enough without embellishments. She's tall, beautiful, witty, charm-"
"Enough about my sister! Let's focus on the task at hand!"
After defeating a group of would-be thugs in the marketplace, Fenris picked up on the women chatting quietly.
"Honestly, didn't they ever wonder what happened to the thugs who were here before them?" Hawke asked as she dug through the clothing of a man she had downed with a few hard knocks to his head.
"Perhaps if you made a sign for them, they wouldn't keep using the same tactic every time we come through here," the guardswoman chuckled.
"And give up our main source of income? Are you mad, woman?"
"It wouldn't be our main source if you took actual legitimate jobs Hawke. The guard is always looking-"
"Me? In the guard? Keep that up and Carver will be singing and dancing the rote jig to save the orphans. That's as likely as me making it into and being a good guard. Besides, the uniforms don't flatter me one bit."
For the time, they seemed like good people, Fenris reasoned. He had offered to compensate them with the small funds that he had, but the leader, Hawke, had ignored the offer. Strange, considering her current financial situation. Even the richest humans would normally jump at the idea of-
"Oh, Aveline! Lookie, this one had a bag of semi-precious gems! If I sell that, I'll probably have just enough to buy that new staff I saw on display the other day at the market!"
Then again, maybe her generosity wasn't the only reason for the current strain on her funds.
The only other problem that they had was actually finding Danarius' mansion. Fenris had not exactly lied when he said he knew where his former master lived- he just wasn't sure how to get there.
"I don't understand this city at all," he grumbled to the woman beside him. "In Tevinter, there were at least different monuments or different colored buildings to mark the way. All the houses here look the same."
"It's a protective measure against would-be invaders," Hawke said.
Fenris turned to stare at her, not sure what to make of that comment. "Is that so?"
The hooded woman shrugged, ducking her head but not before Fenris saw a small upturned curve to her lips. "Well, it would be if I had designed the city myself. Honestly, I think the architectures were drunk, or idiots. Or both, given the Hanged Man's reputation."
Despite himself, Fenris smirked. Maybe this venture wouldn't be so bad after all.
They arrived (eventually) and set to work. Each room that proved empty of Danarius made Fenris angrier, and more frustrated. Shades and other traps awaited, but they did nothing to alleviate his feelings. Instead of keeping it to himself, he let it out, calling to Danarius, mocking him and threatening the magister.
It wasn't until he received a rather sharp rap to the head with a staff after a nasty battle with a group of Shades that he realized that some of his companions might not like his vocal bravado.
"Will you shut up!" Hawke hissed, ignoring the baleful look Fenris was giving her. "If you want to get him, we should get him unawares! Otherwise he'll escape or he'll set off more-"
A group of Rage Demons, led by a Greater Rage Demon, popped up once the echoing of Fenris' shout died away.
"-traps."
It wasn't until that battle that Fenris realized he was in the company of a mage. He had to give her credit for being subtle; most of the magic users he had come across were either Blood Mages, or the Elemental Mages, neither of which were very subtle nor quiet branches.
His first clue was when a Demon charged him, and his sword suddenly hissed as frost appeared on the blade. He didn't really have time to think on this curious development, and instead focused on the fight. He downed the fiery demon in record time.
His second clue was when he noticed that Hawke was surrounded. He charged forward, intent on helping the woman, only to watch in amazement as the group of demons around her staggered, stunned. She then proceeded to beat the nearest one over its' molten head.
"Huh, looks like Hawke ran out of manna again," Varric chuckled from behind Fenris, aiming carefully with his crossbow before nailing a demon in the forehead with a bolt.
"She beats things over the head when she runs out of power?"
"Yep. She's been saving up for this neat staff that not only channels a mage's powers, but also has a built in blade on the end of it. She could stab and slash instead of bash. Heh, that rhymed. I'm losing my touch! No one takes poets seriously."
Fenris tuned him out after that, and the group finished the fight.
He was intent on Danarius, he was going to be just behind that door, the last door that hadn't been opened in this Maker forsaken mansion-
Nothing. Just books, wine, and a roaring fire that stated someone had been there, recently, but had flown.
He swallowed his disappointment as he followed the others outside. He had been so close…
The first thing he did was mention Hawke's magic, which got him a wary look of caution, which was better than he expected. Flying into a blood-thirsty rage, up until that point, had seemed a likely reaction. That she was standing there, waiting for him to continue, gave her a small point in her favor in his mind. She was no slave to a demon or to her emotions was apparent thus far.
When questioned, she stated that she was only using her magic to survive.
"Oh? Not entertaining thoughts of grabbing power and helping out your fellow mages in their confinement?"
Hawke pulled her hood back, exposing her face to him for the first time. He stilled, taking in her features. There was no debating that she was a beautiful woman. Yet it was her eyes that captured his attention; eyes that shone brilliantly, almost like the spirit of a stern warrior goddess he had heard in legends.
"The Circle has its' place in this world, as do the Templars. Some people just need to be locked away. Others can survive outside the Circle, and can do the world more good than they would had they been locked up."
"Are you one of those privileged few then?" he asked sharply.
She offered him a sad smile. "I was born an apostate, not made one. And yes," she added, tilting her chin at him, almost in challenge. "I think I am. I plan on doing this city a lot of good in the coming years…once I pay off my debts, get rich from the Deep Roads and get out of poverty that is."
Somewhat mollified (if not fully believing her answer), he thanked Hawke for her and the other's help, offering a small purse of coin in payment. The woman stared at it, looked up at him, and then shook her head. "Thank you," she said, making shooing motions with her hands. "But keep it. You'll need it more than I will…unless you plan on buying me dinner sometime?"
That last comment really threw Fenris off. "I…what?"
Hawke chuckled, pulling her hood back up and covering her features. "Sorry, that was a bit forward, wasn't it?"
Fenris coughed delicately, trying to ignore the heat that was settling on the back of his neck. "Um, I'll be here if you have need of me-"
"Oh good. I was hoping I could use your sword arm," Hawke chirped.
"My dear woman, you can certainly have more than just that," Fenris smiled.
"Awesome! I get the fisty thing too?"
Fenris wanted to simultaneously laugh and bash his head against the wall. So much for returning her…flirting gesture. Perhaps he needed more practice?
"Yes," he sighed. "The 'fisty thing' too."