Cameron woke with a hangover to yet another argument between Gamlen and Carver. She groaned and rolled over on her small cot covering her head with her thin pillow, hoping to drown out her families' voices for at least another hour. She was not to be so lucky, however. Bean, her faithful if overly anxious mabari, took her movement as a sign and jumped on top of her; pushing her pillow out of the way and licking her face. Unable to withstand the assault of dog love, she pushed at Bean and finally rose.
"If I didn't love you so much, I'd turn you into a cat," she grumbled at Bean, stroking his head the way he liked. He barked happily at her and rolled onto his back for a belly rub. With a smile she obliged the large dog until a gentle knock on the bedroom door turned her attention away. Leandra entered the small room a smile on her lips.
"Darling, I'm glad to see you are up. Aveline is here to see you." Cameron sighed, having totally forgotten she had agreed to help Aveline patrol the paths leading around Sundermount today.
"Tell her I'll be out in a sec. Bean you go on out with Mother. Looks like you're going to have a good work out today." Bean barked happily, and dashed past Leandra into the front room of the Amell hovel. With Bean out of the room, Leandra smiled at her daughter and closed the door for her privacy. Cameron sighed touching her temple, but cast no spell. It was her own fault for falling into Isabela's drinking game, and she would bare the consequences just as her father had taught her.
It took Cameron all of five minutes to switch from her thread worn sleeping shift to her robes and she greeted Aveline as she put her staff into its holster on her back.
"When I agreed to this patrol, I didn't think it would be so early," Aveline raised a red brow.
"Hawke, it's past noon," was her response and Cameron mentally slapped herself but put a bright smile on her face.
"I just figured if we were looking for ne'er-do-wells, we'd do it later in the evening." Aveline's response was cold and matter of fact.
"But caravans do not travel by night, so to hunt the hunters, we must think like the hunters." Cameron rolled her eyes and sighed; her head was throbbing too much for some one sided witty banter.
"Since we're going to be traipsing around Sundermount, we might as well bring Merrill with us. She'd be able to show us any little hide-a-ways the bandits might use."
"An excellent idea and one you made last night. Just how much did you drink?" The red head asked her. Not wanting to discuss her binge drinking in front of her mother, Cameron led Bean and Aveline from the house.
"I drank just enough to regret it this morning, but not enough to impair me, if that's what you're worried about," Cameron snapped at her guard friend. Aveline just shook her head.
"I told you it was a bad idea to get into a drinking contest with that whore."
"I am hardly in the mood for 'I told you so' lectures. Let's just get Merrill and get this over with," Aveline smiled and followed her irritated friend.
It seemed to Cameron that the Maker did not want to make today easy for her. First was the simple fact that the easy patrol around the base of Sundermount, was anything but. The three women happened upon a nest of slavers who put up a significant fight. By the time the nest was cleared, everyone was covered in blood. Most was the slavers' but Cameron was also coated in a fine film from Merrill's blood magic and it took everything in her not to cringe and wipe at the offending layer on her skin.
The Maker's second trial happened on their trip back into Kirkwall. With nearly another half mile to walk, the sky above them opened up into a torrential downpour. The soldier in Aveline trudged onward, used to less than ideal traveling conditions, and the eternal optimism in their elven companion commented on how the rain would wash the blood from their clothes. Bean just barked, dashing here and there and rolling in the newly formed mud puddles. Cameron just groaned, deciding that her first stop when they reached Kirkwall would be the Hanged Man. Surely nothing else could go wrong today and a good hard drink would be just the thing she needed.
Upon entering the City of Chains, Aveline split off for the barracks to file her report and get cleaned up. Cameron escorted the ever cheerful Merrill back to the alienage, and left Bean to stand guard outside her uncle's hovel. Finally free, she made her way to the Hanged Man. It was busier than usual, and Cameron guessed it was due to the ever present storm outside. The line at the bar was at least three people deep, and the always intoxicated waitress was too busy rushing from table to bar and back again. Sighing, and too miserable to wait, Cameron took a page from Isabela's book and slipped behind the bar and into the storage room.
It was in the back room of the Hanged Man, that the Maker's third and most disturbing trial occurred. Cameron moved deeper into the storage room, knowing full well that the best stuff was always stored in the back. Due to the noise of the bar, it took until she was right on top of them to hear the familiar voices.
"Not so much of a pup now, am I?" Carver growled as he plowed into the purring pirate who was bent over a cask of ale. Cameron stood for a minute, staring unable to believe what she was seeing, and wishing she wasn't seeing it. It was one thing to know what her brother did in his spare time; it was a completely different thing to actually see it.
Luckily, the two seemed too preoccupied to even have noticed Cameron and she took that opportunity to quickly dash from the storage room and directly into the drunken waitress with a tray full of the cheapest swill the Hanged Man carried. The waitress cursed at Cameron, but she was not listening. Drenched in blood, rain and now rat piss ale, Cameron had had enough. Angrily she pushed her way from the Hanged Man, back into the rain and headed towards Hightown. The look on her face was a dare to anyone to mess with her. No one took that challenge.
The creak of the door opening was barely loud enough to reach the second floor of the mansion, but Fenris's hearing was by far greater than that of any normal person, human or elf. It had been one of the many attributes that garnered Danarius's interest in the elf. He took his sword in hand, and deftly hid in the shadows of the stairwell. Down below he saw the familiar, if soaked form of his contradicting mage. She shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood her fingers at her temples.
"Fenris?" she called out, her tone pleading. He stepped from the shadows, looking down at her bedraggled state. Taking a breath, she began, "I know I was just here the other day, but please, I've had one hell of a day and could really use-" Fenris cut her off.
"A deal is a deal. Your things are in the bathing room," before he turned to return to the study he heard her exhalation of relief and saw the stunning smile light her face. He listened as she made her way up the stairs, after she had passed his study, he counted the steps he knew it would take for her to enter the bathing room and silently followed. Consciously he had no idea why he followed her, but he knew she would light the fire in the bathing room. He knew she would heat the water in the tub, and he knew that each flicker of magic would send tingles of pleasure through his body.
He hadn't expected her to leave the second door opened as he entered the bedroom. He stayed to the shadows and refused to look in on her. He let a soft sigh escape his lips as he felt the spell lighten the room beyond. He heard her pumping water, heard her peal off her robes; heard the sloshing of water as he assumed she was cleaning the clothes she had recently removed. He listened as she hung her now clean garments by the fire; listened as she poured the filthy water out, only to refill the tub with clean water. His markings tingled again as he knew she heated the water, and he listened as she stepped into the scented bath, sighing contentedly. He left then, back to the safety of his study.
He paced before the large fire, a bottle of wine in his hand. Each pass he made, he would take a swig of the spiced wine. He didn't understand what was going on in his head. He should hate her, but he didn't. He shouldn't trust her, but he did. She was a mage, and a powerful one at that; even without the use of blood magic. He shuddered at the thought of what she could do if she finally succumbed to a demon's temptation. He stopped his pacing when he realized his thought was if, not when. Every mage fell. The two others she traveled with where proof enough. But why was he questioning her? Why did he doubt she would succumb? What made her different?
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft clearing of her throat. He turned and his jaw dropped when he saw her. Her hair was towel dried and fell in ringlets around her heart shaped face. Her deep sapphire eyes looked black in the low light, and the fire's glow made her pale skin glisten where it was still damp. She was covered simply in a towel that she held to her chest and fell almost to her knees. She held out her free hand in question.
"After today, I could use a drink. May I?" Fenris took control of his thoughts and nodded, handing her the bottle. When her fingers brushed his lyrium lined ones, she gasped. A surprising wave of pleasure rushed from her fingers through her body. She tried to hide her shock by tipping the bottle back and taking a long swig of the wine. When she finally looked back at Fenris, if he had noticed her reaction, he made no sign of it. Instead he picked up another bottle, uncorking it and taking a short drink himself.
"Why aren't you dressed?" he finally managed to ask, glad that his voice was as steely as ever. Cameron seemed to have forgotten her state of dress, and blushed. She needed to be wary with how safe she felt with this man.
"Um, I didn't see where my shift was. It wasn't in the bathroom with everything else." Fenris mentally cursed himself. He remembered exactly where it was. It was curled up in the sheets of his bed where he had left it. Her scent was calming to him, and he found it easier to sleep with it near.
"Perhaps you left it on the bed? I do not search the sheets between your times here." He hoped that explanation would suffice and she wouldn't dig further. She nodded.
"That does seem likely," she took one last swig from the wine bottle, emptying it. She set the empty bottle down on the table before heading back the way she had come, "I'll check there." Before she left the room however, she turned back to him. "Thank you, Fenris. I, really appreciate everything you've done for me. I know it can't be easy for you hosting a mage and all. But I need you to know that I trust you. And I hope one day, you will be able to trust me just as much," she smiled gently at him and finally left him alone in the study.
"I believe I already do," he whispered to the doorway she had passed through.