(Prompt ~ Write a scene that involves pink roses. Xeress Allora Hawke, Varric Tetheras, Anders, and Fenris.)
-"You know Hawke," Varric began as he kept pace idly at her side "I've been wondering, what is your favorite color?"
"Why do you want to know that?" She smiled.
"I don't know, just a curiousity I suppose." He stretches a bit "Is it red, like your family crest and the blood of your enemies? Is it blue, like sapphires and royal cloth? Or perhaps black, in contrast to your pale appearance?"
He listed off strong colors, ones he assumed such a strong warrior would boast for their honor.
"Well, I like gentle violets. But, my favorite color," she blushes slightly "is soft pink. Like blossoms and certain berries."
"Soft pink? Not what I would have expected from a berserker as skilled as yourself."
"I am a warrior and all that it entails. But, I am also a lady. I really rather like things like graceful dancing, scented oils, and such from time to time. I will never give up my sword, but I do not crave violence. I like sword play. I fight to secure the possibility for peace and happiness to those who deserve it. I fight for my family and friends. And, I will always be a warrior at heart. But, I still have a feminine side." She explained, the slight blush lingering.
"Well... Good to know..."-
The conversation resounded in Fenris's ears as he recalled her words upon seeing that very color. It had been over a year ago, taking place among their many wanderings together. He and Anders had been trudging behind the two, working hard not to strangle each other for her sake.
Here and now, he found himself gazing at soft pink petals on perfect roses twining themselves around the gate to a noble man's estate in Hightown. He thought of her, her image as captivating as the moon. Fair and powerful, with a soothing presence to bask in. He imagined the sweet blush that graced her features whenever he courted her. It brought a smile to touch his lips, her infatuation was easy to see and it was amusing to watch.
The noble would not miss a few flowers, which were of better use as a gift for a beautiful woman. He selected the youngest and finest of the blooms, pinching them from their stems, wary of the thorns. Then, quickly stowed away so that no one would catch on to his thievery. He made way for her mansion, reclaimed heritage of her bloodline.
He had not gone far on his way before his path happened to be intercepted by the 'abomination'. Anders glared at him crudely, Fenris returning it with equal disgust for the mage. He cursed his fortune that they had to cross paths, as the apostate took notice of the stolen roses. Fenris was keenly aware that Anders knew exactly what their purpose was when he laid eyes on them.
He could not understand the mage and his peculiar interactions with Hawke. He refused to openly flirt, yet lusted after her with his eyes no matter how many times he claimed he was not the man for her. Then, proceeds to complain with strong disapproval and jealousy whenever Fenris has anything to do with her. Indeed, the abomination was a mystery, and a threat.
Not only did Fenris view him as a danger to everyone, particularly Hawke (and he gathered that the mage thought the same of him), but also a rival. Xeress was strong, but too trusting. She lets the 'abomination' too close to her, and it puts him on his guard. The apostate shall not have her to use for his sacrilege endeavors.
"Fancy meeting you here, of all people. Didn't really take you for the flowery type..." Anders retorted.
"It is none of your business, mage." Fenris warned in reply.
"I suppose you're right. I just hope she has enough sense to avoid falling for it."
Fenris restrained his urge to phase his fist through the man's neck and watch him choke. He hated Anders almost as much as he did slavers.
"Carry on then, toy with her heart as you seem to enjoy doing."
"Don't tempt me to kill you more than you have already, 'abomination'!"
Anders gave him a glare with eyes like daggers, but backed down. It was in his best interest not to escalate things and call attention to his status as a mage. He marches off, returning to his business and Fenris stares after him with vehemence until he is out of sight. Only then does he continue onward to his destination.
As always, Bodhan answers the door and leads him within. She is not there, just as he suspected. Hawke is a busy person, always working to make things better. Placing the token carefully upon her writing desk, Fenris then wanders off towards home. She will visit him, undoubtedly, as she always does. And, if he so wishes, he can inquire about the roses then. Prompting her to repeat the reaction he is certain she will have when she finds them. And then enjoy the coveted blush that will warm her face.