"She had eyes that flashed a deep, full green and red lips that said trouble without her even having to open her mouth. This was a dame that didn't need any runes to spell enchantment from top to toe- her figure had that more than covered. Donnen Brennokovic took a swig of whiskey and shook his head as she sauntered over to their table, noting with grim amusement that Jevlan was agape and slightly flushed. The poor kid wouldn't be able to see trouble coming if it rode into the Hanged Man on the back of a flaming dragon."
Fenris paused for effect here and glanced up. Hawke had somehow shifted from sitting in her chair to lying on the floor within the last few pages, and was intent on petting her entraptured mabari hound.
"You're not even paying attention," he said, fighting back both a little smile and an exasperated sigh.
"What? Perish the thought! Of course I'm paying attention. They were just…well, Jevlan was sure the magistrate was tangled up in lyrium smuggling, and Donnen knew better and was telling him off?" Hawke proposed hopefully as a tendril of drool trailed down from the mabari's mouth onto her face. She let out a part-laugh-part-groan of disgust and wiped it away, sitting up. "I'm almost certain that was it, wasn't it?"
"Wrong on all accounts, unfortunately." Fenris shut the book. Perhaps it had been foolish to try. As he learned to read he discovered, with no small amount of surprise, that he found a great deal of pleasure in reading aloud to others. And so the trials had begun. Varric certainly had a hearty appreciation for the dramatic, but lately Fenris had been on a kick of Varric's crime serials, and he had refused to listen to them point blank, saying that hearing his own work made him too depressed. Aveline tried earnestly, but sooner or later Fenris would look up and see that her gaze had become obfuscated and distant, her mind no doubt intent on guard rotations and weekly patrols and the like. Any extended amount of time alone with Isabela led to wildly indecent proposals and ridiculously aggrandized tales of adventure on the open seas – neither of which Fenris was inherently opposed to, but both of which did tend to get in the way of reading aloud. He had no interest in spending time with blood mages or abominations, of course, which eliminated Merrill and Anders. And then there was Hawke. Who, well. To his gratification, she had agreed to the idea enthusiastically enough, but, as it turned out, found the actual practice of sitting quietly and listening perhaps more difficult than she had anticipated.
"What are you doing, Fenris? I'm sure it was about to get to an exciting bit!" Hawke got up and sedately resumed her place in her chair.
"It's fine, Hawke. I don't wish to waste your time - if you would rather leave-" Fenris stopped abruptly in embarrassment, turning the book over in his hands.
"Would rather leave? First off, considering what happened today with Mother and the giant spiders I really don't think I would prefer to be at home right now. Second off, if you're trying to make me feel guilty, it's working. And third off, you are my friend, Fenris, So no, I would rather not leave." Hawke smiled a happy smile, and Fenris felt the tightness in his chest ease.
"Very well, then. If we make it through this chapter drinks at the Hanged Man are on me."
