Pickpocket

Varric had a lot of questions about his new companion as they walked through Hightown one afternoon. Who was this "Hawke" anyway? He looked up at her, her profile darkened by the sun behind her. Her nose came to a delicate point and her lips were full and red. A short crop of dark hair sat messily atop her head, its crest rising and falling with her stride. She noticed his eyes were on her and raised a perfectly arched brow before giving a wink with her crystalline blue eyes.

Do all the girls in Lothering look like that? Varric nearly tripped.

He continued evaluating the Fereldan in a less…confusing manner. He noticed a bit of blood on her armor, but her daggers were spotless. Hard not to like a woman who takes care of her weapons, he decided, thinking of Bianca. He wondered how many she'd felled with those blades. From what his contacts had to say, it was a lot.

There was one thing that had been nagging at him since they'd met though. How could a woman so adept at combat, and who was sharp enough to survive the smuggling rings of Kirkwall, let herself get pickpocketed by a common thief? He recalled how embarrassed she was at their first encounter. Her cheeks were crimson and her voice was tight and controlled, despite her attempts to laugh off the event as a careless mistake. She'd been kind enough though, and seemed glad to have met him.

I wonder… Varric smirked as he edged closer to the rogue. She didn't seem to notice and continued chatting with Aveline. The dwarf slowly crept his hand closer to her to her belt, and just when he was expecting to feel the pleasant weight of coin in his hand, Hawke shifted her body and stopped in her tracks so his hand landed square on her ass. He nearly ran into her headfirst.

Aveline and Bethany turned to see what the commotion was about. Aveline gave a stern look of disapproval while Hawke's seemingly innocent sister couldn't seem to stop giggling.

"I say, Varric," Hawke said in a falsely haughty tone. "Just because you have easier access to my backside doesn't mean it's a free-for-all down there."

The dwarf realized his hand still lay on his prize and quickly withdrew it. "My apologies, Hawke," he recovered quickly. "I was just…checking your assets."

Hawke laughed, a light and airy sound. "A pun? My, you must be desperate for a comeback." She grinned at him, leaning down so she could look him right in the eye. "Feel free to try again any time you like. I'll be ready." And with that she resumed walking, linking arms with Bethany, who was still stifling laughter. The sisters' heads leaned together in a conspiratorial fashion.

Eventually Varric realized their forms were growing smaller in the distance and hurried to catch up. How the hell did she do that?

"Oh come on, sister," Bethany sighed. "We've been at this for hours, let's go to bed."

"Not until I have it down perfectly," Hawke insisted. "Again."

The elder sister stood perfectly still in their tiny shared bedroom in Lowtown. She closed her eyes and waited for a touch, a sound, a breath. Suddenly she swiveled, catching her sister's wrist in a tight grip.

"You're getting much better!" Bethany noted, pulling her arm back.

"That'll show that know-it-all dwarf I can handle myself," Hawke grinned.