Everything was a big deal to Hawke, and his haphazard generosity was not limited to employees. Few were the people entering the store and didn't leave with something more than they paid for, even if it was just a cup of tea. Regulars could expect to leave with milk-jugs, candy, books or toys they hadn't paid for, given with a smile and a laugh. He always added something the person might enjoy, not just random stuff.
Bohdan, one of the regulars, had a son on the autistic spectrum. Never have they entered where they did not leave without Sandal, the boy, loaded with free treats.
Most of these things were never written down, and even those transactions that were recorded were done very slapdash.
Aveline was another regular. A beat-cop and a local, she made Fenris uncomfortable for the first moment the bell at the door announced her.
"Welcome." Fenris greeted, sweeping the floor again more for something to do than any real need. He doubted the floors were ever any cleaner.
"Who are you?" She demanded. She was taller than him, which wasn't a difficult feat in and by itself, but she held herself ever taller.
"Fenris. I work here now." he made the effort of extending a hand. She nodded at him, but didn't shake it. Hawke was taking a bathroom break, so there was no help coming to save him from her scrutiny.
"Those markings…" She scanned his tattoos, "You're not part of a gang, are you?"
"Not anymore." he felt the need to defend himself where usually he would remain silent, also he worried that as a cop she might know what the markings meant.
"I don't want Hawke to get into any trouble."
"I don't intent to cause trouble." It took real effort for him not to shrink under her disapproving glare.
"Where have I seen markings like those before…?" She wondered to herself. Fenris began to panic, but Hawke returned just then.
"Aveline!" he gave her a warm hug, "Have you met my best employee?"
"I'm your only employee." Fenris observed cooly.
"You don't need an employee." Aveline added hotly.
"It's so much more fun with someone here." Hawke dismissed them both. He made her a cup of tea and she accepted. A part of Fenris resented that she hadn't even offered to pay for it.
They chatted, and she picked up some pickles and other treats. He packed an extra box of Advil in there, to which Fenris gaped- that was expensive! and a bottle of water ended up in her hands to "keep her hydrated". She joked she could just look up and open her mouth to get all the water she needed.
She left.
"You're too generous." he tried to keep his voice passive, not judging, and failed.
"It's only money, in the end." Hawke had used the phrase before. "She needs all the help she can get. Her husband is sick."
"I thought Canada took care of things like that."
"Not everything. Prescription medicine and certain surgeries are still out of pocket. Believe me, I know. She works so hard, and he's in so much pain…"
On Friday Fenris woke up to the strong smell of tomatoes. He got dressed quickly and stepped into the store. Hawke was struggling with the door leading his apartment, both hands burdened with a massive pot of soup.
"Ah, Fenris!" he exclaimed, pleased. Fenris stepped forward and took the pot from his tired arms. It was quite hot and filled nearly to the brim with a rich-looking tomato soup.
"Where do you want it?"
Hawke, clearly impressed that the smaller, skinnier man was having much less of a problem carrying it, pointed towards the portable range behind the counter. Fenris obliged.
It was then that he noticed there was actually a lineup of people outside the door, a line of umbrellas like mushrooms in the rain.
Hawke turned on the portable electric range, and all the lights went off with an audible snap. Huffing with irritation, he unplugged a lamp at the counter and climbed the stairs, muttering about keeping the laptop plugged in. He returned and opened the ancient fuse box, forced a breaker back into position and the lights returned.
"Alright!" he clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly, "Your first Soup Friday." Fenris could practically hear the capital letters of that title.
"You sell soup on Fridays."
"Yes!" Hawke exclaimed, excited and impossibly surprised at Fenris' deft guess. The latter tried and failed to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the enthusiasm. When Hawke smiled the scar on his nose curved up. Fenris could barely handle the happiness from one smile, let alone two on the same face.
"I need you to go out and down to the Sun Fresh Bakery on Keefer." he opened the cash register and pulled out a random amount of 20's, handed them to Fenris. "Get as many milk buns as that can get you. Soup Friday without milk buns is just soupid."
Ignoring Hawke's puns should have been an Olympic event. Fenris would have been a gold medalist. "Aren't you going to count this and dock it off your ledger?"
He headed towards the door, exasperated, after Hawke made a raspberry sound and waved it off.
"Oh, and let Varric in, will ye? You can't miss him and Bianca."
He opened the door and there was a rustle of umbrellas as the lineup hoped it was time to come in. The first man in line, more to the side, really, was a stocky, short man. Another ginger, like Aveline, but this one was all smiles when Fenris asked if he was Varric.
"The one and only, at your service," he rasped, tipping his fedora at Fenris. Finally someone who was shorter than him. Fenris looked around, "Is… Bianca here with you?"
Varric laughed, pointing at the guitar slung over his shoulder in a black carry bag. "She never leaves my side. My one true love."
Fenris held the door open for both of them… and left to buy milk buns.
By the time he was back it was time to open and the line had grown. Old people, young people, even Aveline and her husband were there.
Varric was seated on a the stool that was brought from behind the counter and placed in a corner, and he was playing his guitar, singing beautifully as people entered the store to purchase soup. A toonie ($2) got them a disposable bowl of fresh soup and a milkbun. If Hawke was making any profit margin on this, it was slim. But the pure joy on his face as he greeted new and old friends seemed to be all he needed. Varric's fedora at his feet filled with odds and ends of change. It seemed to be a win all around. Even Fenris found himself busy. People had time to think of questions while waiting in line. Some people asked that he gather their items for them while they kept their spot in line. Others asked if there still enough soup left for their turn. Two people managed to drop their soup before exiting the store and that was a cleanup of proportions he hadn't seen yet. Hawke, of course, replaced the soup with a laugh.
As soup levels dropped, Hawke set aside a bowl, shoving it towards Fenris with a wink. He was going to protest, but the next person in line demanded his employer's attention.
It was the best tomato soup he had ever eaten, although he didn't have a large sample range.
It was the most money the store had made all week, meager as it was. When the store finally emptied, shortly after the soup was gone, Varric scooped up his earnings and approached the counter. He had come out with a nice amount of change which Hawke gladly started exchanging the change for bills.
"A store lives off its float."
"Float?"
"Change in the drawer."
"Ah."
He learned something new that day. Varric looked him up and down, then addressed Hawke,
"What's with the new kid?"
Fenris frowned at the descriptor. If facial hair was an option for him, he would have considered it, if only to stop people from calling him 'kid' and boy'. Varric had perfected the art of elegant scruffiness, a ginger dusting of a five o'clock shadow adding suave to his swagger.
"Fenris is a ray of sunshine in the store." Hawke bald-faced lie earned him a glance from both Fenris and Varric.
"Yeah, maybe Vancouver's version of sun, which is rainclouds." Varric huffed. He flicked his chin up at Fenris, asked,
"What's your story, frowny?"
"No story." Fenris quickly defended. Clutching his mop (soup cleanup) and taking an involuntary step back.
"Everyone has a story, pout-meiser. Me? I was busking without a cent to my name until Hawke here offered me to play here. Since then I got regular gigs at local bars and I make a living." he thrust a thumb in Hawke's direction, "This man here got me off the streets."
"He does that." Fenris observed as Hawke smiled modestly puffed out his chest.
"Your talent got you those gigs, I just gave an opportunity." he smirked mischievously and added, "My contribution dwarfs in face of your talent." he got a laugh from Varric, and a punch to the arm along with it.
Much to Fenris' surprise, a quick, and blessedly boring month and a half had come and gone, and he was still very much employed. Very much as safe as he had ever felt out in the world. He laid on his folded out futon bed in his (his! Actually his, though rented only) tiny room and texted.
"There are things here that belonged to me." A blanket that he could keep, a kettle by the stove for his exclusive use. A microwave, a mini-fridge to use whenever he wanted and share with no one.
"Must be nice! Get used to it. This is how life really is."
Fenris quirked a half smile at the little screen, thumbs typing,
"It'll be a strange day when I can take this for granted."
"I look forward to hearing of that day."
"Thank you." the recipient knew why he was thanking him. He had thanked him dozens of times before.
"If you really wanted to thank me, you'd have accepted my job offer and stuck around." a winky-face suffixed this line, and Fenris smirked and put the phone aside.
Luxury such as this never knew a more grateful recipient.
In the morning he threw off the blankets and got ready for work before realizing it was Saturday. While Hawke worked 6 days a week, he had insisted on Fenris having a two day weekend. Though he protested, he was determined to try and live like a normal person, if that was possible, and normal people sometimes got weekends off.
Shrugging on his raincoat, he stepped out into the city. For once it was merely grey and overcast, but at least not currently raining.
It was raining when he got back in the evening, however. He had spent another completely and delightfully unproductive day sitting at various waterfront establishments and alternating between staring at the inlet and the mountains, and trying various local cheap foods. Vancouver's population came from all reaches of the earth. It took another block in any direction to find confection of almost every nation.
He had to walk through the store to reach his apartment, but a pair of large men inside stayed his hand at the door. He shrank against the brick of the adjacent building, watching them through one of the large decorative (thought barred) windows that flanked the door. He knew their type. All too well. All too personally. Hawke was all smiles and kindness as always, but there was an edge to him that hadn't been there before.
Before Fenris could decide if he needed to intervene or perhaps call the cops, Hawke handed the pair an envelope filled with bills, and his smile tightened when they each grabbed a couple of bags of chips on the way out.
They hadn't noticed Fenris, just headed to their black sedan parked across the street. He was just another hooded figure in a random street, part of the background noise of living in the city. When Fenris peeked inside the store again, Hawke was looking dismal (a first), running a hand through his naturally messy hair. Fenris went into the store when the car rounded a corner and vanished.
"Welco- Oh, welcome back, Fenris." he gave a brave smile, but the young man didn't buy it.
"Who were those men?" he demanded, cursing internally at the strain and intensity of his voice. Hawke was startled, perhaps by the tone, perhaps by being seen with them.
"Oh! Those guys? Don't worry about them."
"Hawke." His voice was colder than usual and it had an effect on the larger man. He looked truly contrite.
"I'm sorry." Hawke said, "I don't want you to get in trouble with the law. The less you know, the safer you are."
The words hurt. Hurt in a good way- he had never had anyone in his old life who had wanted to protect him. Some people had felt protective of him when they learned the truth about his past, but that was more pity than care. Never met anyone who wanted to protect him simply because he existed.
But the words also hurt because he felt the same way. Hadn't told Hawke anything about himself, his past, because the less he knew the safer the man would be. Hurt because somehow he felt that Hawke didn't trust him enough. Why would he? He was a generous man to everyone. Fenris was in no way special to him. Those casual flirts a few weeks ago had ceased, not that Fenris was certain he wanted them to continue. Hawke treated him no different than anybody.
"I work here. I need to know." he shook his head, "No, that is insufficient." he continued emphatically, "I want to know. I can take care of myself. I'm not afraid."
Hawke made a face, hand going back to his hair. After long moments of debating with himself he said quietly,
"They're Carta men. Protection money."
Fenris drew back in surprise.
"The Carta?! Here?"
Hawke nodded, "We're a poor neighborhood. All but forgotten. There are all sorts of gangs around here… The hispanic Crows, the local Cotarie... " he looked away, smile fading, "The Carta is much… nicer, for lack of a better word, than the Cotarie ever was, and the Crows are straight-up killers. It's best this way."
"Does the whole street pay them?!" Fenris' anger was boiling. This is the last thing he wanted to hear. He had forgotten he was sopping wet, and a wild hand gesture sent water flying.
"All the businesses, yes. They don't take all our money, just... some. It's just money."
"It's about more than money!" Fenris slamed is first unto the counter, making the old thing shake. The newspapers slipped to the ground, taking the bowl of candy with them. He didn't care,
"It's about living in freedom! It's about standing up to those who live their lives by making others afraid of them!"
His voice echoed in the empty store, his employer's eyes wide as saucers in his head. Their gazes remained locked for long moments, Fenris' breath heavy in his chest. He hadn't meant for this outburst, but the man opposed from his softened his features, a smile returning to lips best suited for mirth. Warm eyes that knew nothing of Fenris, yet still regarded him with compassion and respect. No pity, but awe shone through, and a shiver followed up Fenris' spine. Eyes the colour of maple meeting eyes like spring leaves.
The bell on the door rang and the moment was broken.
"I heard raised voices," Said the newcomer, shaking his umbrella, "Is everything ok?"
The man was of slight build, but his eyes held a kindness tempered into hardness.
"Anders!" Hawke shook off his previous despondence and stepped out from behind the counter to embrace the man.
"Who's this?" he asked. He had blond hair held back in a ponytail, though the humidity had frizzed out his otherwise immaculate look. He wore a suit and a tie. Overall, he stood out as someone who didn't belong on Kirkwall street.
"This is my amazing employee, Fenris."
Anders' eyes went from the puddle at his feet, to scowl on his face to the mess on the floor.
"He's not very good at his job." he observed. Fenris decided he didn't like this man very much, though it did shake him out of his stupor enough to bend down and start collecting candy. Hawke stepped away from the suited man to help.
"It's actually his weekend. He's the best. What brings you here today?"
Anders walked to a specific aisle with familiar practice, grabbing a few small tins of the same type.
"Justice's food, of course!" he shook a can as proof. "You always have this flavour, her favourite!" Hawke placed a hand on Fenris' shoulder to help himself up to attend to the purchase, and somehow this small gesture of camaraderie and trust soothed his ragged tamper.
Anders paid for the cat food, receiving a box of his favourite tea in the bag as well. He left.
"I'm sorry for that." Fenris said quietly.
"About what?"
"Yelling… earlier."
"It's fine," Hawke assured him, while Fenris stood up to place the newspapers and candy back. "I don't expect you to be happy you're working in a place that gives money to organized crime."
"It's not that…" he couldn't for the life of him organize his thoughts, so instead he said, "Who's Anders?"
"An old… friend." Hawke chose his words carefully, a lot being left unsaid very loudly, "He's a human rights lawyer."
At Fenris' raised eyebrows he added, "He's very passionate about human rights, and cats, and cat rights. Donates a ton to the BC SPCA. Comes off a bit strong."
"You two have that much in common."
Hawke had the decency to look embarrassed, perhaps aware of his proclivity to sweep people along with him. "Have you ever just looked at someone and decided you wanted to be their friend?"
"No."
"Well, I do that all the time, the problem is that they don't know that we're going to be friends yet!"
Fenris thought about it, finally noticing that he was soaked and needed a shower, "Did it happen with me?"
"Oh, definitely."
"Are we friends yet?" he tried softly, uncertain.
"Perhaps if you need to ask, we might not yet be. I'll make you my friend yet!" was the laughing threat.
I know most people have sweet Anders as a doctor, but I figured he could be a badass human rights lawyer, too. He's all for the little man!
Feel free to ask questions in the comments, and I'll do my best to answer them in the author's notes for upcoming chapters. Reviews are love!
