A\N: So I was hangover, watching Ocean Eleven and trying to write the next chapter for my other fic, when this happened. Thanks a lot to Reinamarieseregon for beta-reading.
This is Hawke from my "How to happily harbor a viper in your midst" fic, if you'd want a better idea of her personality.
How Sebastian Vael managed to run such a profitable business after spending years as a lay brother was the source of mystery and endless speculations for the nobility of the Free Marches, but Erica Hawke saw no surprise here. The Casino and Chantry worked on very similar principles: towering beautiful buildings and shining interiors to astonish and humble visitors, confident and ever -polite people in pompous uniforms, scheduled shows to grab attention - usually with music, but most importantly, a tantalizing promise of a Great win. The Chantry was actually much more successful, because eternal paradise is a more alluring promise than just earthly money. The goal stayed the same though – people always trying to find some fine line, convinced that if they found the right strategy, a perfect balance of loses and wins, they could strike the Grand Prize. Didn't really work for anyone, but they keep trying, because eh, what can change the nature of a man?
Erica didn't believe in waiting for rewards from fate or celestial will though. Her way of finding a balance was taking everything that there was to take and then distributing it into deserving hands without trusting any higher Powers. Said powers usually had pisspoor judgment anyway.
She walked into the casino like she owned it. Bad attitude for someone who was planning to rob the place, but Erica learned early on that being lowkey was not an option for her. Which is very unfortunate if you're an apostate mage, trying to hide from Templars your whole life. Blending with the crowd was working for her about as convincing as a dragon attempting to champ it up with a flock of geese.
No, she decided to be the very opposite of hiding in the shadows - controlling what will be noticed. Being the center of attention came to Erica as easily as breathing and she knew exactly how to use it. How to create an image with your outfit and makeup, a picture too whole so people won't be able to separate actual *you* from it. Bright red dress, flashy makeup, glittering gold and all that people can tell about you afterwards "beautiful young woman in a red dress, dark hair, big eyes, red lips, you know, looked like a movie star". Even for more attentive witnesses there were makeup tricks - changing the angles with right shadows and tones, hair framing her face into a slightly different shape, contact lenses giving her eyes completely different color.
She walked down the stairs into the main hall, a vision of red and gold, graceful and seemingly effortless. She had cheated, of course. It would almost be impossible to make quick steps and have an aura of confidence in this floor-length silky dress on such high heels, without tripping on a hem, but Erica was a Force mage. Her neck and shoulders were covered in sheer fabric with golden ornaments, and the flowy cascades of it, falling from between her shoulder blades and clasped at the wrists, would be a terrible mess without controlled airflows. Being a mage did not guarantee being enchanting, but Maker's breath, made it much more achievable. There was a small risk though, that some of it could give her away, but really, who could be so paranoid to look for magic in subtle rearrangements of the fabric and be observant enough to actually catch it?
After finishing her descend, she paused in a calculated pose, a little turn to reach for a glass of champagne gave her outfit an excuse to swish dramatically, drawing to her eyes that weren't already locked here. She looked over the room with faked hesitance, a flirtatious look from under half-lowered thick lashes, bright azure eyes accented with makeup, red lips on a verge of a lazy smile, black locks in high hairdo shimmering with golden sparks, her silhouette in a scarlet dress sharp and striking like it was drawn with calligraphic brush, and in a final touch, wide translucent sleeves folding in a graceful sweep, like wings of a firebird.
Nobody is perfect, but Erica was damn good at faking it.
Some men had already flocked to her and she picked the tall handsome brunette in an impeccably tailored tuxedo who scored a decent place in a "trying too hard to make it seem like I'm not trying at all". A smile had already graced Erica's lips, when the man suddenly got abruptly shoved aside by someone about head and a half shorter, who seemed to be wearing a ruffled white wig and a large crumpled suit.
What the heck is that, a scarecrow?
Without even slowing down, this scarecrow grabbed her hand and turned to stride back in the same abrupt jerky half-hops. Out of sheer surprise, Erica let herself to be dragged for a couple of steps, then she came to her senses and tried to free her hand. Apparently golems came in mini-sizes too, because fingers on her wrist were hard and unmoving like they were made of rocks. Then her assaulter turned to shoot her a glare - bright green under the furrowed stark-black eyebrows - and something scratched in the depths of her memory. Pointy ears poking out from under white hair, features angular like they were really cut out of stone, swirly tattoos of weird icy running down his chin and throat…
That's the runaway slave I helped in Kirkwall few years ago! Yeah, he was hunted by his former master, we fought the slavers, but then he made a huge scene about mages, we yelled at each other for half-an-hour, I've walked away and never saw him again.
This wasn't good at all, if he accused her of being a mage in the middle of casino, there might be a possibility of things getting screwed up...
Erica glanced over her shoulder at the guy who was left standing in surprise and gave him a pleadingly scared expression,, which riled him up just as she expected.
"What are you doing? Let go of the lady or I'll call the security!" the man shouted.
The elf paused and turned around.
"I am the head of security."
Yep, I'm screwed.
Erica was sitting in a chair in a small room, barren except chairs, a table and the angry elf, pacing with agitation on the other side of said table.
"And why in the name of Andraste's diapers am I here?"
"This room doesn't have cameras."
"Oh? So I'm gonna get beaten without evidence or what?"
The elf stopped at his tracks. "What?!" Surprise in his voice was too outraged to be false.
She relaxed just a bit.
Oh Maker, what was his name? Something made up and pretentious… Yeah, right, Fenris!
He went back to pacing and grumbling.
"I brought you here so you won't be outright exposed in public."
Okay, what do we do? Let's try bluff.
"I have no idea what you're talking about! Who are you? How is that an acceptable service? I demand to see the manager!" Erica raised her voice.
"Don't even try playing with me, mage," he growled the last word like it was the worst insult he could think of. "I won't be fooled by your vile lies."
Dude, vile- lies, seriously?
She remembered that night about six years ago now. At first they were supposed to pick up the contraband, but got ambushed and then this guy made his sweeping entrance, requesting their help to finish off his old master. And she had agreed, despite being set up, because no way could she refuse an ex-slave. She even considered inviting him to join their little group, because someone so prickly and practically unhinged was bound to get in troubles otherwise. Then he started ranting about magic, and she was dealing with it relatively well until he made a pass at Bethany and that was a turning point, because nobody gets to insult her little sister. Erica threw the money he tried to give her in his face and stormed away, half-expecting for a pouch to hit her in the back.
"Oh, right, I remember you now! We met when you set me up for an ambush and then I saved your ass!"
He visibly shuddered with discomfort, glaring at her with his lips twisted.
"This is why you're here and not in the Circle yet."
"Sure, thanks for a warm welcome! How do you return favors to non- mages, by not punching them in the face?"
Ugh, why I ever considered teaming up with this asshole? Who do you think you are, I mean look at you, you bony stick in the mud in the suit three size bigger than you are and crumpled like a potato sack...
At that moment the elf stopped pacing, took off the jacket and carelessly threw it on the chair, and at the sight of the tense lean muscles she remembered that he handled the greatsword as easily as if it was made of rubber.
Oh, that's why I considered teaming up...
That'd make a nice strip-tease trick too - the angry scarecrow walks in and then - Bam! - there's a sexy golem instead.
"I would have treated you differently if I didn't know you're working with thieves!"
Eh, Athenril was actually a smuggler and racketeer, but oh well…
"Aw, come on, how paranoid can you be? I'm just here for a good time!"
Fenris folded his arms, and she noted both tension and confidence in his posture. His inner shirt was the wrong size too, because it was too small and tight, the thin fabric stretching over taut muscles. The shirt was brilliantly white in contrast with the dark russet of his skin and it teased just a hint of elaborate tattoos under it.
Okay, he is kinda handsome when he's not grimacing...
"I do not trust you, mage."
His eyes were bright, deep green with angry confrontational sparks of short temper, like an emerald that some madman threw into fire.
"Look, Whatsyourface, what is your problem? I gave up the criminal shit years ago! I'm a changed woman now."
He just waved his hand dismissively and returned to striding like a caged tiger.
"Look at me, do I look like a petty thief now? You know what, life got much easier when I realized that people will just give me money if I want. There are men who are rich and bored - lots of them in this casino too, by the way, - longing for an "otherworldly" beauty to enchant them," she waved her hand, making little sparks to dance around her fingers. "Why bother with crime when people are willing to give you stuff?"
"Don't try to tell me that you gave up magical tricks. I saw you using them just today!"
"What?"
"You didn't hold the hem of your dress when walking down and yet you didn't trip. And your sleeves moved without any wind, unnatural. "
In all the places in the world, this bastard, who is both observant And paranoid, has to get in my way.
"Oh, you right, that is downright evil and proves my inherently villainous nature."
"In for an inch, in for a mile. Mages will never let opportunity pass if they got a taste of power."
Okay, add a little bitterness to connect with his essence…
"You know , a funny thing about an ideal woman they want us to be, is that you not only have to be perfect, but also effortless. Wear pretty and overly-complicated dresses that make it hard to even breathe without screwing things up, but look as comfortable as in your pajamas. Walk on heels higher than IQ of a man who's trying to get in your pants, but step gracefully and freely. And be afraid and ashamed if any of your imperfections, like I don't know, natural leg hair, show. Why do you think I'm wearing a floor-length dress with long sleeves? Because scars, scars that I got from Darkspawn, are terribly off-putting and un-ladylike, so I have to hide them. Because men don't want actual living, breathing woman, but a Maker-damn fairy princess, and well, you can't be a fairy without magic!"
He looked at her intently for few moments with suspiciously narrowed eyes.
"Shallow social-climber," he spat out finally with poorly hidden disgust, and that made her stomach lurch for some reason. "How typical for a mage."
She forced a radiant smile on her face. She won, fooled him, now he'll let her off the hook and even more, he'll look away when she's there, because he's too fastidious and...
I can't bear to see this asshole condescending to me.
"Haha, got you," she said with a smug grin, leaning back in chair. "Didn't even have to use my vilest lies to fool you like a baby, Fenfen."
He practically jumped up and the sight of it made it all worth it.
"I knew you're a scoundrel!"
"Easy, Frufru, I think you're hyperventilating. You know, you seem to have a lot of frustration bottled up. You need to get laid."
She flicked her eyes over him and curled her lip with calculated offense.
"Not that you could score a date since you're a living version of a small rock in the boot, but that's what brothels are for."
She expected even more angry outbursts, but he just raised his eyebrow.
"Small rock?"
"Short, annoying and disproportionately troublesome."
"I recall you're about the same height as me without these stilts, so that can apply to you too."
"The difference is that I'd be a ruby - shining, multifaceted and priceless."
"I see you had to excel in flattering yourself. Perhaps this is a service brothels do not offer?"
Despite herself, she almost snorted. Who knew the bastard could actually joke.
"Even if they did, it'd be no use for you, because even a professional wouldn't find anything to compliment here."
"You wouldn't know. Someone so narcissistic and selfish wouldn't be able to appreciate anything they do not see in the mirror."
"Yeah, well, if you're so impressed with my self-flattery, I can give you another one for free. Check it out - my eyes are of the deepest blue, just like your balls."
I hope it hurt your posh presumptuous soul.
"Your eyes aren't blue. This is a fake," he said, unphased. "They are yellow, like owl's."
"Look who's talking, you've got a beak and furry caterpillars on your face!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, and asked wearily, "What is your goal with this senseless conversation?"
"Huh? Since you seem to be gradually taking off your clothes, I decided to stay at least until the shirt goes off."
He blinked in surprise, a hint of a faint blush appearing on his face.
"I thought you said there's nothing to compliment."
"Oh, congratulations, you caught me on one of my vile lies, Franfru! Yeah, okay, put a paper bag on your head and you might have some hope."
"Is it what they recommended you in the brothel?"
Erica fought a smirk. She always had a weakness for sarcasm that could match her own.
"Why, see something you'd like to check out below the paper bag?"
He kept a stony face, but the blush became a tone brighter.
"Anyway, I though we're just passing time exchanging pleasantries while Templars are on their way."
He frowned, drilling her with an intense searching glare, but then exhaled slowly.
"As much as it pains me to admit it," he lowered his voice, " I do owe you a debt, so I will not expose you. But I will not let you to commit crimes in this place.. To make it easier for both of us, please leave and do not come back."
"Or what?" she asked sharply, leaning forward with a daring smirk.
"I will watch your every step and when I catch you..."
"If."
"When I catch you doing anything incriminating, I will personally hand you over to the police."
"Deal!" she said cheerfully, standing up. "You won't do anything until you've caught me red-handed, right, Fanfan? Works for me!"
His eyebrows knitted and his jaw tightened. "I will watch you, mage."
"Can't blame you, Fifi, not many have enough self-control to tear their eyes away from such an enchanting vision."
She swayed past him deliberately slowly while he grind his teeth.
"Also, you usually don't have an opportunity to stare at women without getting a lawsuit, so enjoy!"
The door slammed behind her back with so much force, she was pretty sure the doorframe cracked.
Okay, so that went well…
Now she just needed to come up with some at least vaguely rational reason why she blew her cover and basically invented the head of security to try and catch her, because it was gonna be a blast when the team heard about it.
I don't think I'll be writing more on this self-willed fluke of AU, unless there are enough people interested? So let me know what you guys think.
For people waiting for the update on "How to happily" - it's coming soon, I swear.