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Odd Couple

Part 1: Bait and Switch Part 1(Or Grumpy Elves Can't Pay for Decent "Help")

Why was it that freshly-surfaced Orzammar dwarves were terrible liars? The Carta could steal the gold fillings from your grandmother's teeth with a wink and a smile (and liberal applications of force, yes), and half The Merchant's Guild were from the Blighted city! And yet you take a dwarf out from underground, and all of a sudden, they lose their damn senses. Boggled the mind, it did. "Lyrium smuggled for the Templars," he says; phuh! A five year old wouldn't fall for that, the way he was talking.

I thank Andraste that my partner in crime—I mean, business was not a five year old. But he had that look in his weird silver-gold eyes; yes, that look. Two parts benign curiosity, one part suspicious cunning, and a whole lot of childish, manic glee.

Glee at what?

Hell if I know. I'm not Hawke.

But I do know where that look tends to lead: Trouble. With a capitol 'T.'

Of course, Hawke tells Mr. Horrible Liar that we'll help him… You know, there are days I wonder at his sanity. I truly do. And I haven't even known Hawke for more than a couple of weeks.

I have to run to catch up to him, but I think it needs to be said that this is a really stupid idea.

…Whatever it is.

"You do realize that dwarf was lying, right? Really poorly? As in, your dog has a better gambling face?"

Hawke laughs, "You haven't played Diamond Back with my dog. You'll lose your lunch. As for the dwarf, I think you'd have to be blind, deaf, and loose in the head to not realize he was a shitty liar."

"Then we're going into this completely obvious trap, why?"

"Well, they just left it all open, and ready to play with, you know? Like a present! It'd be rude to not mess up whatever stupid ambush these guys have set up for us."

I almost laugh. The man has a damn strange sense of humor that, oddly enough, works for him. Possibly because he just didn't care whether someone else laughed at his awful jokes or not; all that mattered was that he did.

What also mattered were the thirty-or so guys in armor waiting in the Alienage for us. All of them were armed to the teeth.

And (of course) they all jumped to attack as soon as we turned the corner. Yippee.

I will admit, I've never in my life had to keep my Bianca as well armed as whenever I go out with Hawke. Bandits, thugs, gangs, Carta, smugglers, mercs, savage art students; you name it, I have now probably fought it because of this man. I swear he must use some special cologne or something that attracts the wrongdoers of Kirkwall, like cheese to rats.

Good thing Hawke can fight.

Because the armor's are falling quickly under his blade. Or well, bladed staff. Lance?

His brother's making a dent too, honestly. The muscle to Hawke's speed, Junior is. Both brothers are in the thick of the fight while me and Blondie stay back here with spells and bolts. I prefer not being skewered, thank you. But between the Hawke brothers, there's little for us to shoot. So I throw smoke bombs after a few pointless shots, and watch Hawke as he sets several guys on fire, bludgeons one with one end of his staff, skewer another on the other end, and electrocute three more guys coming at him.

Damn show off.

Still, it takes about fifteen minutes, give or take, and we're in the house, staring inside an empty wooden chest.

Worth every second. Really.

Hawke crouches over the box and runs his hands over it. "I think we're missing something…"

"Jeeze, Mel, what was your first clue?" Junior's rather aggravated, it seems.

Hawke looks up at me. His dark frizzy hair is a bit of a mess, and he's got a good deal of stubble, I notice. "There wasn't anything else in the house?"

"Nope. Not even a mouse," Blondie answers for me. "Shame that, I might have been able to get another cat…"

Hawke hums, still looking at the chest, before standing back up, nearly hitting the ceiling for his trouble. Poor man's far too tall for an elf's apartment. He slouches down a bit and heads for the door. "Well," he called back, "Let's see if our lovely benefactors can explain what this is all about, huh?"

Yet, wouldn't you know it, there were another thirty-or so guys waiting for us. Again.

I think we've seen this song and dance, right?

Long story short, we won, and the guy in charge starts ranting at us (and with such clichés! Ugh, can't the bad guys come up with at least somewhat creative dialogue?) before shouting for his Lieutenant.

Enter said Lieutenant.

Or…stagger. While spurting blood.

Well, huh. Did we do that?

"Your men are dead, and your trap has failed," comes a stranger's voice from the shadows. It's a deep voice, dark, rough, with an odd combination of anger and resigned tiredness mixed in. The shadows give way to an elf, slouched over in dark, really weird looking armor (are those metal feathers?) and really bright white hair, and a very brooding visage. He half scrambles-half stalks down the stairs to where "Captain" stands slack jawed. "I suggest you return to your master and tell him you failed."

Captain flinched at that, and grabbed his sword. "You slave…!"

I blink, and I think I missed something, because all of a sudden, the elf's glowing, and shoved a clawed hand into Captain's chest, and was that a heart in his hand?

Squish.

Well, it might have been…

"I am not a slave."

The hand pulls back, Captain drops, and the elf turns and faces us, his eyes a solid black, and his claws covered in blood.

Should I start praying…?

"Neat trick!"

Both the elf and I jump as Hawke steps up, stupid grin in place, and proceeds to lean on his staff, pushing his messy, swoopy bangs out of his face. "What's your name, Ser?"

It takes a minute, I think, for the elf to mentally process the overly-tall human. I don't envy the man; I was still trying to work out enigma of Mellan Hawke, myself, and I pride myself on being able to read people. Finally, the elf growls out, "Fenris."

Hawke grins. "Cool name. Way better than mine. I keep getting mistaken for fruit!" he laughs, and with a flourishing bow says, "Mellan Hawke, at your humble service."

The elf blinks, completely dumbfounded, and Hawke continues, "So I take it these men were after you Serah Fenris?"

"Just Fenris," the elf snaps. "And yes, they were Imperial bounty hunters looking to reclaim a magister's lost…property."

"Meaning you?" I look over at Hawke. That wasn't a tone I could place; I hadn't heard him use it before.

If I didn't know better, I'd say it was barely restrained anger.

Just-Fenris nods. "I must confront him."

Wait a second!

"Hold on, you want to go toe to toe with a Magister? As in a Tevinter Magister, are you insane?" Maker bless your tactless hide, Junior. You took the words right out of my mouth.

Oh hey, the glowing's back. Great.

"Been on the run awhile, I take it?"

Attention was given back to the elder Hawke. "You could say that," Fenris replies after taking a visible breath.

"He a fan of parlor tricks, then?" Again with the grin, Hawke! Do you enjoy playing with fire?

Oh wait mage. Right.

The elf grimaces, "More likely he's tired of me slipping my leash. This is the third set of hunters in the last two days."

I whistle at that; I can't help it.

Neither can Hawke, it seems.

Fenris continued, "And before that, he kept me on a leash. A personal pet to mock Qunari custom."

"Ouch," Blondie winced. The elf crouched down lower, shoulders tensing further (an amazing feat, let me tell you) and growls out, "So yes, I intend to confront him, and it will not be to talk."

Hawke studies the elf (and I really need to think of a better name for him than that), still leaning against his staff. Finally, he says, "Sounds like you might be needing some help, Fenris." The incredibly rare seriousness fades quickly, and once more that smirk's in place as he adds, "And I don't mean to brag, but we're a sight better help than surface-addled dwarves."

Dark as it is, I swear I see the tips of the elf's ears turn red.


this was a fun little idea that has decided to run the full length of the game. there will be a primary focus on hawke's and fen's relationship, but there will NOT be anything explicit (varric would never be privy to that, i don't care what the game says). at least not from varric's POV. i may consent to doing a hawke's POV lemon, but not varric's. and while those two are the primary focus, the others will be present too.

and obviously, the dialogue between characters will not be word-for-word from the game, though there will likely be quotes taken from it.

anywho, please review!