Fenris felt the lyrium humming underneath his skin as he swung his blade in a wide arc and felled three raiders with one blow. He spun around and surveyed the battlefield quickly. Hawke was in the air, blades trained on the last of the raiders. The man saw her coming, but too late. She descended upon him and cut his throat in a quick motion. She wiped her daggers clean and sheathed them.
"Raiders," she clucked jovially, running a hand through her short brown hair. "Wouldn't it be nice to just walk the streets some time and not run into anyone who wants to kill me?"
"What would be the fun in that, Hawke?" Varric chuckled as he strapped Bianca onto his back. "Do you think anyone wants to hear boring stories about how you walked through Lowtown and picked up shiny pebbles?"
"Sandal loves those pebbles!" Hawke exclaimed in mock horror, holding a hand to her chest. "Besides, I'm sure you'd just make something up to make it sound more exciting. Oh! I know, you could say that Fenris pulled the shiny pebbles out of a raider's chest." She said, winking at him.
Fenris felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards involuntarily, as he too often felt himself doing whenever he found himself looking at her, and turned away as she began looting the bodies.
"Hmm, looks like these guys are having a party." Hawke had pulled a torn piece of paper off of one of the thugs. "We had better get a move on. I would hate it if we missed the cake."
The the raider base was on the other side of Lowtown. Of all the things Hawke dragged him into, killing raiders was one thing Fenris couldn't complain about.
"Do you really think there will be cake?" Merrill asked after a moment.
Fenris suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "No."
"The cake was a lie? Why would Hawke lie about cake?" The mage furrowed her brow in consternation before her eyes widened. "Oh, I see! It was a joke!"
Hawke motioned for them to be quiet as they reached a dilapidated building near her uncle's hovel. She tiptoed to the door and pressed and ear against the wood, listening.
"I'd say this is the place. Are you ready?"
Fenris realized she was waiting for confirmation from each of them. He found her green eyes trained on him and he nodded, a slight incline of his head.
Hawke kicked in the door.
Fenris and Hawke walked back to Hightown together, as had become customary over the past few years.
It had begun accidentally. The first time was shortly after she had moved into the old Amell estate in Hightown. Most of them had been at the Hanged Man blowing off steam after a long day. Hawke stood up and stretched and said her goodbyes at the same time Fenris had decided to leave. They walked into Lowtown together and she turned to start the short walk to Gamlen's hovel.
He'd watched her, amused, and then she'd stopped short in her steps and turned around.
"Well, this is embarassing." She laughed, placing a hand on her hip. "I'm so drunk that I've forgotten where I live."
And thus began their tradition. She had walked with him back to Hightown. It made sense, really. They were technically neighbors, and as much as he hated to admit it, Fenris liked her company. Her opinions infuriated him most of the time, but at the same time he found himself drawn to her wit. She was surprisingly intuitive. She listened to him. And every so often, something would pass between them – a look, or words said just so – and he would find himself wanting to spend more time with her.
"That spinny thing you did to those raiders was pretty neat."
"I'm... sorry?" Fenris raised an eyebrow at her, confused.
"You know, the spinny thing! Where you spun around like a tornado or something." Hawke pretended she held a large sword in her hands and spun around in the middle of the closed Hightown market.
"Ah, yes." Fenris nodded. "It's a technique I picked up during my travels. It is rather useful."
"It reminded me of something Father used to do," Hawke said as she looked up at the sky. Fenris noticed how the irises of her eyes seemed to glitter in the moonlight.
"I thought your father was a mage."
"He was," she nodded slowly. "I don't mean with a sword or anything. He used to spin us around out in the fields in Lothering. He'd take us by the hands and just swing us around. Bethany and I loved it. Carver would cry." She sighed. "Maker, he was such a tit sometimes."
"Carver was... your brother?"
"We lost him to the Blight. An ogre." Hawke's mouth had twitched into a frown. "He died protecting Mother."
"I am sorry." Fenris eyed her intently, watching each tiny movement on her face. She stole a glance at him and noticed him watching her and flushed slightly.
"Do you have any family?" Hawke asked him finally.
"If I do, I do not remember them."
"Because of the markings." Her eyes flitted over him briefly before resting on his face.
"Yes." He looked away, balling his hands into fists. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her coming toward him, reaching for him.
"Please, don't." Fenris said, the lyrium humming in his veins.
"I'm sorry." Hawke stopped, pulling a hand back awkwardly.
They walked in silence until they reached Hawke's estate.
"Fenris," Hawke hesitated, facing her door. "You know you can talk to me." She shot a look back at him with a grin. "If you're lucky, I may even listen."
"I will… keep that in mind."
Hawke disappeared into her home and Fenris stood staring at her door for far too long, his mouth curved upward into a smile.
Special thanks to the wonderful sagacious_rage for the beta!