The Hanged Man was rowdy tonight. Daniel Hawke didn't much like to draw attention to himself; he sat in one of the booths watching Varric fleece Carver in diamondback, like every night. The boy never learned!
It had been a tough few days; they'd been out on a job from one of Varric's many contacts: clearing out slavers along the Wounded Coast. Anders had gone back to the clinic, ostensibly to check it was still standing, but Danny suspected he just wanted to check on the strays that flocked nightly at his clinic.
His thoughts were interrupted by a gust of chill air flowing in from an open door. A group of men were standing in the doorway looking slightly bemused at the crowd. Danny's eyes were drawn to a tall, blond man at the back of the group; he looked familiar…an awful lot like Anders! The staff strapped to his back was a dead giveaway to his status as a mage, but the others in his group were wearing cloaks over their armour. He didn't see the emblems but would put money on them being Grey Wardens – no one else had that…aura about them.
"Hey, barkeep!" the leader of the men called out to Corff. "What does a Grey Warden need to do to get served in this joint?"
Danny could see the blond mage draw a hand over his eyes in exasperation and mutter something to himself - probably something very unflattering about the leader.
"Grey Wardens can go…" Corff started, but Danny thought it best to act fast before Corff would start a fight over this.
"…and sit at our table, please - gentlemen. I am Daniel Hawke, this is Varric Tethras of the Merchants' Guild and my brother, Carver."
Introductions were made, the leader was called Stroud and the mage introduced himself as Neville.
"Neville from the Anderfels, that's me" he said smiling. Danny was intrigued; he'd never met anyone else from Anders's home before. The stranger had striking grey eyes, an easy manner and infectious laugh. Daniel found himself drawn to the other mage's company.
The night drew on, wine flowed and everyone was getting drunker. Carver had gone back to his barracks at the Gallows.
"I better not stay. Knight-Commander Cullen will flay me alive if I turn up pissed as fuck." he'd said and waved goodbye.
Varric had challenged the other three Wardens to a game of cards with him and they had moved to a nearby table for more room; Danny found himself alone with Neville - in a secluded corner booth. And they were both more than a little drunk.
"Is there anywhere quieter we could go?" asked Neville. "It's getting a bit loud in here, don't you think?"
There was a clear invitation in that voice, and Daniel felt his heart beat a little faster. Things were...complicated with Anders, to say the least. Not like he'd been celibate these past years, but it had been some time since he'd had more than a quick feel in an alley. Straight in the deep end Danny, not like you have anything to lose.
"Sure, I have a room upstairs. We can get some wine and continue there if you want?"