Fenris' mansion had to be the most miserable piece of real estate in Kirkwall, and with all the dirty little hovels and rotting shacks about, that was truly saying something. It had once been grand, but the Tevinter slavers that had previously inhabited it left it a mess. Well, it was more accurate to say that Susan's party killing them had left a mess. The tiles were uprooted and huge patches of the floor beneath lay exposed. Her boots crunched over the shards. The wallpaper peeled and yellowed, the curtains were frayed and the only carpet in the estate was full of holes. Mold crawled up the corners and spotted the ceiling. All in all it was a terrible place to live and yet oddly fitting.
Susan creaked up the stairs with a burlap bag slung over her shoulder. She headed to the sitting room where Fenris usually slept and eased open the door. He lay slumped over a table with a wine bottle loose in his grip. He looked to be asleep.
Time to change that.
Susan strode over to the window and threw open the curtains. Light flooded the room. Fenris stirred.
"Good afternoon," she said loudly. He threw up a hand to block the light cutting through the gloom.
"Hawke? What are you doing here?"
"I agree, it's a fine day. And look! A sack of shit for my favorite sack of shit!"
The bag landed with a thump on Fenris' table.
"What's this?" He squinted at her. "Can't you tell I'm hung over? Did Isabela send you?"
"Isabela visited?"
"Why do you think I drank so much?" he asked sourly. "She had some 'important business' to talk to me about. Apparently it wasn't important enough to leave behind the semi-clothed whore she had with her."
Susan snorted and picked up one of the wine bottles on the table.
"I'm going to make a guess at how much you drank."
"Don't. It was an ugly whore, and I had a bad day" Fenris said. "Back to the now. What is this?"
"I told you: a sack." She stood back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Go on, open it."
Fenris gave her a measuring look.
"Tell me what's in it first. Is it a body part?"
"My lips are sealed," Susan said, drawing her fingers across her mouth in a zipping motion. He sighed and untied the cord.
"If it's a body part, I swear..." He opened it, and drew out a pillow. "What is this for?"
"In case you faint."
"In case I faint?" he repeated. He pulled out a key. "Then explain this."
"It's a key," she said mildly. His eyebrows raised.
"Just a key?"
"Just a key. Well, a key to a safe that has about a hundred sovereigns in it, but that's all."
It took him a moment to understand.
"One hundred sov- what for?"
"For you, dumbass."
He gaped at her, struggling to comprehend.
"For me?" He frowned. "Who do you me to kill so badly?"
"No one," Susan said, placing her hands on the table. "It's just a split of the profits from the Deep Roads, plus an additional amount for not cutting my throat for dragging you into it. Everyone got a share."
Fenris grinned weakly, but then winced from his headache.
"Damn you, Hawke, I've never seen this much money in all my life. At least not without a catch. What do I do with it?"
"Buy a house that doesn't smell bad," she suggested. "Even the bedbugs have their own mold colonies here."
Fenris shook his head and swore again.
"I cannot believe this. Thank you, but I still don't believe you when you say you don't want someone decapitated."
"Of course I want someone decapitated, but that never changes. Oh, there's something else in there."
Fenris upended the bag and a finger fell on the table.
He laughed.