"The Lady Catriona Amell, of Kirkwall." A man in a fine embroidered jacket called, holding out a hand that Hawke elegantly accepted as he assisted her first step onto the staircase.

The hall was swirling in colour, huge pillars along the edges of the room each bedecked in a different crest, presumably the sponsors of the event, hoping to flaunt the wealth at their disposal. She took in the long, finely cut robes of the men in the room, even the lady's dresses styled to mimic the mage garb, lest anyone forget who made the high society of Tevinter.

Hawke shook her head at the arched backs, the primness of the nobles posturing in the centre of the room, supposedly a dancefloor but from what Hawke could tell, serving more like a stage. It was also the part of the room she the least desire to be, dancing never being her strongest suit, though her mother had despaired over the many paid lessons Riona had derailed.

After overhearing talk of the Grand Ball that evening, Hawke had decided she would be attending. She used the money she had acquired while staying in Antiva to buy an appropriate gown and her quick mouth convinced the doorman that of course she was supposed to be there. It had been a whim, as most of her travels thus far had been, but since she was here, she determined that she would use the opportunity to observe. She knew something of courts and to see what was going on at the edges of society she kept to the side of the great ball room. Crowds of people talking, giving away the information she needed to be able to blend in to her new location, were exactly what she wanted. As she drew closer, she spotted the presence of shadows she had already observed in the streets of town, a situation that left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

Many of the magisters had their own shadow, standing by their side or more discreetly stood with backs against the walls, always watching and ready to come to attend the slightest need of their masters.

Slaves.

Hawke was distracted, trying to watch the way these slaves, almost all of them elves, managed to appear quite invisible most of the time. She was also helping herself to the buffet table while positioning herself so she could overhear the chatter of a woman about the shame of Magister something-or-other, some business with his son and an engagement beneath his station. Enraptured as she was, she didn't notice a man appearing at her side, until his voice was in her ear.

"The Lady Amell, am I correct?" His voice exuded a smooth arrogance, and Hawke turned sharply to meet perceptive grey eyes, a long face. Salt and pepper hair was swept backwards and a well-kept beard covered his chin. When he leaned back, straightening, he was at least a head taller than Riona.

She pulled herself up in response, lifting her chin and meeting his eyes with cool aplomb. "You are," She toned her voice, radiating confidence, "And who do I have the honour of being recognised by?"

His lips quirked upwards in amusement, or approval. "Magister Danarius Calvisi. The honour is all mine. Tell me, if you will, what brings someone from Kirkwall as far as Minrathous? It is no trifling journey, I would know." She didn't know what to make of this Danarius, the silky tones he used too slick to be entirely honest and his manner just perfectly posed, as much a façade as her own. Whoever he was, whether he belonged here or not, there was more to his true nature than what he put on display.

"My family have contacts in the city. I wanted to travel and the Imperium seemed like such an impressive place to see, before I headed back home. I thought, why waste a good opportunity?"

"Why, indeed." He smiled ingratiatingly. "And my happy fortune that your curiosity led you here."

"You've travelled to Kirkwall? What brought you there?" She couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks at his smooth words and she attempted to side track onto a different topic.

"Business, I'm afraid, not pleasure. I had to confer with contacts in person to ensure acquisition of my goods."

"You trade then?"

"I procure some of the finest and rarest commodities, from all around Thedas."

"Fascinating." She was amusing herself, enjoying the way the man seemed genuinely intrigued by her foreign customs. He asked of her home and she was able to detail her family estate honestly, although she, personally, had not been there for as long as she implied. She was happy to answer his questions and in return posited a few of her own, gathering information all the time, with the honest and legitimate excuse of being new in town.

He asked about the system of aristocracy in Fereldan and Kirkwall, given that Hawke and – by all lawful accounts – her family had no magic, yet were still considered influential. From the answers he gave her she pieced together the structure of the Tevinter courts, which were otherwise quite unknown outside the Imperium. She learnt how the Archon ruled at the top with Magisters at his side, while other Archon mages fought, schemed and tricked their way into the upper circles, always vying to rise up to higher stations.

"Perhaps, if you conclude your business with your family's contacts," She registered the way he paused over the words. "I would urge you to visit my estate. I would enjoy showing a fellow traveller some of the wonders I have gathered."

"Your collection certainly sounds like quite the spectacle. Though I haven't been in here in Minrathous long, and I have many plans to attend to. You know how family business can be. Perhaps if I find time in my busy schedule…"

"I hope you do, I would be quite distressed to miss you before you left."

She smiled at him pleasantly, feeling a sense of smugness at the effect of her charms. With a slight bow, she replied "I'm sure I couldn't take up the time of a man as distinguished as yourself."

He gave the same, satisfied smile again. He was, as she knew of people in societies such as this all over, proudest of his status and she watched with amusement as he puffed up like a pleased canary that it had been noticed and complimented. "Quite the contrary, my lady. I first approached you, as I can assure you others will, to investigate this foreign beauty who has graced our courts. What I did not expect to find was such a charming and intelligent delight as you are. I have been quite selfish keeping you all to myself for this long." He stepped forward slightly, taking her hand in his own "I will leave you to enjoy this party, though my selfish heart hopes that you will not let yourself be swept away by the flighty fancies of the younger, inexperienced men here."

He leant over and lifted her hand to his lips, placing a chivalrous kiss over her fingers. She chuckled at the dismissive tone he used to describe her apparent other 'suitors' in the room and replied in kind.

"Lord—Magister Danarius, it has been a pleasure. And I assure you that if any young man catches my eye, I will make sure to let him know that he must have a collection of artefacts from twice the world over to have a chance of impressing me." He laughed openly and released her hand, giving a short bow. As he turned to leave, her eye followed, finding his sense of arrogance tiring and simultaneously charming. And that was the moment she saw him.

Standing against the wall, unassuming and holding himself in such a way to appear as small as possible, was the most remarkable looking elf Riona had ever seen.

He had a shock of pure white hair and an intimidating looking outfit that was both elegant and gave the appearance of armour. Unlike most of the slaves here who were dressed in the most basic clothes, smart enough but entirely functional and plain, this slave looked like he was meant to be seen, a decorated symbol of what, Hawke didn't have the grasp of the culture to imagine, but certainly something different.

What the outfit also demonstrated quite clearly were the white lines, like tattoos, that trailed and contrasted all across the elf's darker skin. She had seen elven facial tattoos, few of those elves in the room had them but none were coloured like this, and none were quite as extensive as those unmistakeably displayed on the white haired elf.

In that moment the elf turned to follow his master. Danarius, Hawke suddenly realised. This was the personal slave of the very man she had been talking to and she had never seen someone like him before in her life. Riona found herself drawn to the mysterious shadow following the lordly magister.

She spent the rest of the evening mingling, making all the right allusions to have people think she was staying with friends, every bit the proper and respectable noble lady. Despite it being the very kind of life she had left behind for her travels, here it felt more like a game. When she knew she had nothing better than a cheap pub to go back to, the deceit of putting on her flowing dress and pulling on the noble disguise like an old outfit made it much more exciting.

Even as she spoke to other people, she felt like her mind still caught on the tall, proud Magister and his shadow. Her eyes observed as crowds seemed to part before the man and his elven slave.

Unlike the other slaves who were doing their best to be unnoticed, this elf was positioned to best effect when Danarius conversed with others, mingling, being seen, as she was doing.

She also noticed how there were many men and women she spoke to who skirted the subject of her conversation with Danarius, clearly intrigued by their connection. They each tried to discover, without fail, how she knew him and what that made her, immediately giving her some imagined position in the court as the gossip spread. She kept her answers short, vague, allowing creative fancy to fill the gaps around her. This was the kind of game she knew the steps to, even if it was not to her tastes at all.

As the evening drew to a close, Hawke came back to the side of the elegant Magister Danarius, eyes lingering once more on the figure keeping to his side.

"You have not forgotten me among this host of much younger men, then?" Danarius spoke immediately upon seeing her and she returned her amiable smile to him, almost caught guiltily drawing her gaze from the slave.

"I only had one offer of marriage and access to a pitiful collection of pots." Hawke replied and was pleased with the crack of laughter he gave, understanding her allusion to their parting conversation. "It seems you are far too memorable, Messere." Her own charms had not failed throughout the night. Perhaps her ploy would allow her to obtain more information that she suddenly desperately wanted.

"I hope you won't find me too forward if I say that I am delighted to hear so."

"Oh sometimes being a little bold is the only way to get what you want." She replied smoothly and caught the gleam of triumph in his eye. She was good. "If the offer still stands, I would very much enjoy the chance to see you again, and your rather large collection."

Danarius smiled, without showing his teeth and turned to her side. "We have certainly seen the best this party has to offer. Allow me to escort you out." He held out his arm for her to take it. Pushy, she thought, or certainly used to getting his own way.

Still, she took the proffered arm, confident in her ability to look after herself, and with a delicate word, allowed him to lead her from the building. She was aware immediately of the silent presence, shifting position to best flank his master and she saw first-hand the reaction of the crowds.

She knew crowds tittering over a juicy piece of gossip, and saw the unmistakeable signs as her armed through the esteemed magister's drew attention. However what she was not prepared for was the way the crowds immediately parted before their path, stepping aside to make room without being commanded. Riona attracted a few glances herself but there were not many who seemed to meet the tall man she accompanied in the eye.

Stranger still, as she looked over her shoulder, was the way the crowd did not immediately close in behind them. If anything, she thought they were giving a wider berth, taking another step further out of reach of the shadow in their wake. Just who is this man? She asked herself, trying to focus on keeping the wonder she felt from showing on her face. As far as anyone watching knew, she had every right to be there and that's what she needed to show them. And who is his mystifying slave, that people seem more afraid of him than they are of the master?

They left the room filled with a satisfactory buzzing, in Hawke's opinion. She liked thinking that she caused a stir people would be discussing for possibly months to come. As they parted, Danarius invited her to visit him the following day, "so you can't see the folly of your ways," When she asked how she would know where to find him, he replied that he could have a slave meet her outside the Senate building at noon the next day.

"A slave? You mean-" She couldn't help glancing over her shoulder then, at the elf that she got the impression she was not supposed to directly draw attention to, based on the surprised reaction Danarius gave her.

"Fenris?" Fenris. A name. "Well, I suppose—" He considered her for a moment, not deigning to look himself at the elf he was about to order to do his bidding. "Yes, I imagine it will give quite the impression if you were seen walking through town with my personal guard. An excellent idea, my lady Amell."

Not the reaction she had expected, however she had just managed to arrange a one on one meeting tomorrow with the mysterious elf she had not yet been able to distract her mind from. She found she was unsurprised that Danarius thought people would recognise his bodyguard without himself being present. The elf certainly made an impression and with the way people had been watching him, there was a clear implication the elf was known for some reason. If only she knew what.

The agreement was made and the tall magister strode away into the night, after Hawke assured him that she was quite capable of making her way back to her accommodation. He had not, as she had been half expecting, made any advances to invite her to return with him that evening.

She watched the retreating figures. Despite the lanterns lighting the street, Danarius called forth a green light at the end of his staff, the steady light illuminating the white hair of the figure following behind, a small green outline hunched against the black silhouette of the magister's robes.

Before she set off for the centre of town the next day, Hawke had to decide whether she really wanted to go through with the visit. In the cold light of day, not lit artfully by floating lanterns and her heady sense of achievement successfully pulling the wool over the eyes of a snobbish magister, the prospect of a visit to a strange man's house seemed one of her more foolish ideas. She questioned the wisdom of it, even as her feet took her through the busy streets and towards the agreed upon meeting place. She arrived a short time after the noon meeting time, approaching the square from the side opposite the Assembly of the Magisterium.

The square held a strange mixture of magisters with their overladen, overworked and overlooked slaves following at heel, like well-trained Fereldan hounds. The image chilled her, the cold treatment of fellow people like dogs, worse than, when she thought of the love and affection the people she had seen in Fereldan had for their treasured Mabari. Yet here, a whole race of people were treated with open contempt and considered of no use unless they were doing a magister's bidding.

Drawing around the edges of the busy scene, she finally caught sight of the steps leading to the imposing centre of commerce, the formidable Senate building. There, strikingly conspicuous against the dark marble of the steps, was the white haired elf, Fenris. Today he was wearing what looked like a much more practical armour, designed to be functional and not formal, as the clothes from the previous evening had appeared. There was leather and metal bracers and guards, which Hawke immediately thought had to be fairly sweaty and unpleasant in arid weather like this.

She was musing on this, and also on her reluctance to keep moving towards the Senate building. What could Magister Danarius do if she were to simply turn away, walk into the crowd and never see him again? Might he have her tracked down, not forgive the snub? She was immediately drawn to the potential power and experience she could gain were she to ingratiate herself with the magister. However she could also tell that the man was not stupid and that attempting to fool him merely for her own selfish amusement could be a dangerous mistake.

She had always enjoyed the challenge of a little danger.

This thought made her smile slightly to herself and she looked back at the steps again, to see the elf looking in her direction. Their eyes met across the last few market stalls separating them and Hawke froze, suddenly knowing she was trapped. The elf had seen her and she had to go forward.

But then the white haired elf turned away, glancing at the ground and the over the square in the other direction. He had seen her, and recognised her, of that she was certain and yet he was now pretending he had not. Hawke stood for an indeterminable moment, puzzling over in her mind that this elf was giving her the opportunity to turn around right then and leave, if she wanted. She knew that he would return to his master, passing on a story that the foreign woman had never shown up at their meeting place. He would presumably be the subject of whatever punishment the angry magister deemed enough to calm his rage.

And because the slave would do that for the woman that for all he knew was just the same as everyone else in this terrible country, she had no other choice. She knew she had to go to him.

"Fenris, wasn't it?" Hawke said as she walked up behind the elf. Fenris turned quite calmly, she got the impression he had been perfectly aware of her approach despite the fact he had remained determinedly looking in the other direction. She waited for their eyes to meet but his gaze never quite raised to her face. Instead he stared down at the ground, speaking out loudly enough that she would hear his reply.

"My master wishes to reiterate his appreciation that you would spend your time with him at the Magister's Ball last evening. If it would please you, I am here to show you to his estate." His voice. It was like nothing she could have expected, a deep and pleasant rumble coming from the elf, even though every part of him radiated humility and servitude and something else. And she could not place what it was about him. If only he would look up.

"I would like that, Fenris." She said his name with slightly more inflection, and for a moment, his head lifted but his eyes didn't follow then almost immediately his head was dipped respectfully once again, ever the well-behaved servant. Hawke couldn't stand it.

"We shouldn't keep him waiting."

She followed as the elf walked through the confusing maze of stone streets, a city that had built up progressively over hundreds of years of history and presumably it would take years of living here to possibly know all the passageways and routes. As she watched, several poorly dressed elves sped in and out of small alleys, over hung with bushes and canvases so that Hawke wouldn't even have spotted the entrance way.

Luckily, it was easy to keep her eye on this almost silent Fenris, even as he walked quickly and always appeared to be looking from side to side, watching people who came too close – not that many people did – and always surveying the crowds and bustle of the streets with a wary eye. His hunched posture both drew her attention and diverted the attention of others, who mostly looked at Hawke herself.

It hit her that Danarius had told her that Fenris was his guard, a bodyguard, meaning that looking for possible threats against his master was what he did. She realised his posture was less hunched and subservient, as she had first thought but rather up close it appeared more that he was coiled tight like a trap, ready to spring. He was always in preparation for action. Hawke had to wonder again just who this Danarius really was that his bodyguard had to be on high alert at all times.

"Fenris?" She caught up with him to walk by his side and then waited for him to respond, determined in her endeavour to talk, even polite conversation would be nice.

"Yes, Mistress?" He replied, and she balked at the term, looking at him uncomfortably.

"Maker, don't call me that! My name is Riona."

"That would be inappropriate, Mistress." He turned his head and spoke to some point around her feet. She stifled her noise of frustration.

"Hawke, then."

"Hawke?" He lifted his eyes and in the confusion she saw there, ever so briefly before they dropped once more, she realised her mistake.

"Oh, damn. It's Amell here isn't it?" He gave her a sideways glance again, this time his eyes flicked up and down as if reassessing her and she grinned, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I'm not lying to you, or Danarius." The phrase 'your master' was not something she was ever going to bring herself to say. "I am a Lady Amell, Hawke is my father's name, I just…I'm more of a Hawke."

He looked at her once again, obviously confused, but when his eyes met her own, their startlingly green perceptiveness felt piercing. A strange spark fired through her, the connection that had drawn her to follow Danarius from the ball, to go to Fenris in the square, when her instincts were telling her to turn away, flashing warning signals. This spark had kept her going forwards.

Something here was dangerous, and Maker help her, she was going to forge on ahead like she always did. She knew that she would follow this mysterious green eyed, tattooed elf straight into the unknown threat if it meant she could find answers to the questions that surrounded him.

So chapter 1. The idea of a FenHawke, LadyHawke AU was not mine exactly but I decided to take it anyway and Thedas it up. Because I love this universe. And this pairing were truly made for this AU. I hope I can do it justice