"Where is this guy?" Jennie leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "I told him to meet us here."

The Hanged Man was practically empty this morning. Besides Jennie, Fenris, and Varric, a couple of regulars sat in the corner scraping the bottom of their bowls of mystery stew, a red-headed dwarf in heavy plate was snoring in a chair in front of the fire, and a blond elf with tattoos that looked vaguely Dalish was sipping from a surprisingly delicate teacup. Jennie hadn't known the Hanged Man boasted such fine china.

The rare moment of quiet was interrupted by a delighted cry from the stairs. "Zevran!" Isabela came running down the steps and practically launched herself at the elf, who barely had time to put his teacup down before finding himself with a lap full of very excited pirate.

"Isabela, my dear. To think I should find you in such a … place."

She grinned at him. "You know I like to be where things are happening."

"Very little seems to be happening here."

"Ah, just wait." Isabela climbed off of the elf's lap. "Let me introduce you to some friends of mine." She took his hand, leading him toward the others. "Zevran Arainai, this is Jennie Hawke, Varric Tethras, and Fenris."

"Zevran Arainai?" Varric sat up straighter in his chair. "From the Blight? You must have some interesting stories."

Jennie noticed a brief flash of something in the elf's eyes before his pleasant mask reset itself. "Indeed I do," Zevran said to Varric. "I would be more than happy to share them with you … or create some more."

Varric's eyes were twinkling and he seemed about to enter into the badinage, but Jennie had heard enough. "A Blight companion? You must be one of the people Fergus spoke of."

"Yes, I suppose I must." The elf's eyes traveled, very slowly, over Jennie's form. "I see my information exaggerated only slightly. You are much better looking than I had been led to believe."

Jennie rolled her eyes. Her looks were hardly something she was concerned about. "Flattery stops here."

"Ooh, Hawke, you can't say that to Zevran," Isabela said. "If he can't use flattery, he can't talk."

"Then we'll all be better off."

"Ah, you deadly beautiful people. May I say you remind me somewhat of my beloved Warden?"

"Save it," Jennie snapped. "I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

"Oh, no, my dear Champion. That, I do not."

Zevran was about to say more when the door of the Hanged Man opened again, letting a stream of morning light into the dim interior. Anders paused in the doorway, his eyes drawn immediately to the sleeping dwarf. "No. No, no, no. Of all people, why him? Why me?" He crossed the room and stood in front of the dwarf. "Wake up, you big smelly tin can!"

The dwarf came awake with a snort, blinking hard as he smacked his lips together. He looked blearily up at Anders, recognition lighting up his face. "Sparkle-fingers!" A scowl quickly followed the smile, and he stood up, grabbing a handful of the front of Anders's coat. "I have half a mind to bash your head in, leavin' us like that."

"Nice to see you, too, Oghren," Anders squeaked.

"That Justice blighter's in there, too, ain't he? How in the Trenches are ya, Justice? Got yer fill of the mortal realm yet?" Oghren bellowed into Anders's face.

The mage closed his eyes, his lip curling in disgust. "I see your attention to your oral hygiene is as perfunctory as ever."

"Now you're here, you can make it sweet as flowers again. What happened to your pretty dress, mage-boy?"

"I got rid of it. Too bad you couldn't get rid of your face."

The mage and the dwarf glared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter and hugging each other.

"Never thought I'd be sayin' this, but I missed ya, boy."

"Same here, my disgusting friend."

The two ambled over to Hawke's table, where Anders made introductions.

At last, the door opened again and Fergus stepped in, with Sebastian right behind him. The two men were deep in conversation.

"You know Evarts," Sebastian was saying. "He got back on the horse and tried it again."

"I'm surprised he didn't break the horse." Fergus laughed, his eyes crinkling, and Jennie was struck again by how much younger he looked when he smiled.

"Came close," Sebastian said. He looked across the room at Jennie, his blue eyes warming. She nodded at him, feeling the usual odd mix of emotions in his presence.

This was no time to dwell on that, however. She frowned at Fergus. "You took your time."

"You said 'morning'. You gave no specific time."

She studied him closely, but couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

Fergus shrugged, no hint of humor in his eyes. "It didn't strike me as my place to speculate on what time you arose."

Jennie swallowed the acerbic reply that came automatically to her lips. "Very well. In future, I will be sure to be more specific. Now, if we can get started?" She gestured to the table behind her. Fergus nodded, skirting around her and taking a seat. Everyone else followed suit. Jennie stood at the head of the table and cleared her throat. "I think we're all here. Aveline's still in Orlais, but she wouldn't have been able to join us on this mission, anyway."

"What is our mission, exactly?" Anders asked.

"We are going on a … bit of a search and rescue mission," Hawke said. She had been about to say more, but her eye caught Fergus's gaze and he shook his head ever so slightly. "It seems likely to take a great deal of time and involve camping in tents and traveling through unfamiliar terrain."

"Camping?" Varric asked, his mouth twisting unhappily.

"Oh, my fabulous new dwarven friend, how you will love camping. The swims in still ponds, the—"

Oghren cut Zevran's rhapsodies off, smacking the elf on the back with a thwap that resounded through the room. "Don't let swishy here fool ya. He griped about the cold, the dirt, the food, the booze … It was a relief to kill that sodding Archdemon just to shut 'im up!"

"It is a relief to know that Thedas's greatest enemy was killed in such a good cause," Fenris said, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at Zevran.

Relaxing in his chair, Zevran lifted his teacup in a toast to Fenris. "Is he always so … glowery?" he asked Isabela, not taking his eyes off Fenris.

"Always."

"How intriguing." The challenge was evident in the smirk on Zevran's face. Fenris practically glowed with his outrage, but he kept silent.

Jennie rolled her eyes. Another Isabela—just what she'd needed. "At any rate," she said loudly, and both tattooed elven faces broke off their staring contest and looked up at her. "We have been asked to assist in this mission by the Teyrn of Highever," she gestured to Fergus, who nodded at the assembled company. "And I have agreed. The rest of you can consider whether you choose to accompany us or not—I would appreciate the assistance of as many of you as I can get."

Fenris cleared his throat, and Jennie glanced at him. "It occurs to me that it might be wise to find a task we could perform together, to give us all an idea of how … well we might work together." He narrowed his eyes at Zevran, his meaning clear.

"Good thought." Fergus nodded. "Do you have any tasks at hand that might be suitable?"

"I'll have to give it some thought," Jennie said. "I may. If not, there are always gangs out at night that could be removed."

Fergus sat up suddenly, glancing at Fenris and then at Sebastian before looking at Jennie. He frowned, staring at her as though trying to remember something. "Is this something you've been doing for a long time? Seeking out gangs at night?"

"A few years," Varric said, nodding. "Hawke here has a positive genius for the task. I should tell you—"

"No need." Fergus moved his gaze to Varric, and then to Bianca, staring at the crossbow speculatively.

"Is this all in your party, then?" Hawke asked him. "You and Zevran and Oghren?"

"Yes. Others wished to come, but there were complications."

Anders looked at Oghren. "The Grey Wardens let you go?"

The dwarf spat eloquently on the floor, leaving no one with any illusions as to how much he cared about the Grey Wardens' opinions.

"Fine." Jennie took a quick survey of her people. She had a fairly good idea of who was and wasn't willing to come along, but she'd leave it up to them to decide. "Let's meet here tomorrow morning at eight. I'll have something for us to do then."

Fergus looked as if he was about to argue, but then he sighed and nodded. "As you wish."

Zev and Oghren wanted to discuss the Champion's companions, but Fergus shook his head distractedly. A memory was nagging at him, and he wanted some peace and quiet to rack his brains. Hawke and her people seemed strangely familiar. He knew he'd seen the elf before, and that crossbow …

Then it came to him. A rainy night in Kirkwall, years ago, when he was providing a temptingly incompetent noble distraction while Wulfric and Morrigan left town. The group of mercenaries, led by a woman archer. He should have recognized Sebastian at the time, but it had been years since they'd seen each other at that point, and no one could have expected the Sebastian Vael he'd once known to show up wearing Andraste's face on a belt buckle. At least, not in any sincere sense.

Fergus stuck his hands in his pockets. Everyone he spoke to said this Hawke was the best—confident, powerful, intelligent. But his impression of her simply didn't jibe with what he'd been told. She seemed edgy, impatient, snappish. He acknowledged that he had brought her a task she wasn't looking forward to, and one she could hardly say no to … but it seemed something deeper.

Whatever her issues, Fergus thought to himself, walking more briskly, she'd need to get over them. Or she'd find herself demoted to second-in-command while he took charge.