Lying in the grass in the garden of her estate, Hawke tried to focus on the feel of the ground underneath her and the sight of the blue sky above her. Normally, this would cause her to feel relaxed, but not today. The Masquerade Ball was tonight, and she had yet to invite any of her companions. Well, except for Isabela. Considering all the help she had given Hawke with the preparations, and the fact that she would help dress her hair and do her make up later that evening, she was coming along, no question about that. To be honest, Hawke was really grateful that Isabela was going. She had no idea how to deal with the situation, or how to face Jethann on her own. Not that she was embarrassed or anything like that. Carnal pleasure and the market for it was not something she was unfamiliar with. But she was curious as to why he would send her an invitation. As far as she could remember, he was married, so he shouldn't have had any interest in her that wasn't strictly professional. And even if he did, why had he never contacted her before this? Shaking her head, Hawke went back to her room and put on her day to day clothes, slipping a few knives discreetly into hidden sheaths here and there before heading out. She needed to find two more people to bring along, as Isabela surely would disappear once she found a man or three to her tastes. And Hawke did not want to be left alone..at least not until she was properly drunk and couldn't care less who she was with.

–

After wandering around town aimlessly for a while, Hawke figured that the Hanged Man would be her first destination. Varric was known to frequent the Rose now and then, and would probably be a good choice for a companion for the night. In fact, he was the only alternative she could think of. Anders had mentioned earlier that Justice didn't let him get drunk anymore, and he was usually up to his eyes in patients at the clinic these days, so she hadn't even bothered to head over to Darktown to ask him. Merrill was out of the question. She thought the Rose sold flowers. Hawke had no wish to shatter that particular illusion of hers. Aveline? No. Just, no. It would be like bringing her mother or sister, and that would never happen. So that left the dwarf! The letter had said "up to three companions," that didn't mean she had to bring three.

Walking up the steps in the back of the tavern, she headed for Varric's private quarters. As she got closer, she was greeted with muffled sniggers and a low growling. Clearing her throat loudly, Hawke stepped into the room only to have a pillowcase stuffed over her head. Too stunned to do anything for a moment, she felt someone smelling faintly of leather and wine brush past her out the door. Pulling the fabric off over her head, she blinked in confusion. "What on earth was that all about?" she stuttered, looking into the room. Varric just shrugs. "Oh, you know, sometimes people just feel like having a private life, even one such as me." Hawke blushes and looks down. She hadn't thought of that, she usually walked straight in, like she had just done. "Don't worry about it Hawke," the dwarf says and grins. "Come, sit, have a drink. Was there anything you wanted?" Shuffling over to the table, Hawke threw herself into a high backed chair and grabbed the closest mug of ale. After taking a long sip and an even longer breath, she sighs. "Do you have any plans for tonight Varric?"

–

Of course. He had plans. Why had she waited so long to ask? She should have known, Varric was almost always busy ferreting out rumors or gathering various information, he was far from at her beck and call. Still, she had Isabela..or so she thought. She had barely started on the stairs leading up to High Town when a sharp whistle from behind her stopped her in her tracks. She knew that whistle. Isabela. "Lovely one, wait up!" The busty pirate came sauntering up to her, looking distressed. Grabbing Hawke's arm, she pulled her to the side, letting a couple of nobles past them on the stairs. "Look, sweety, I'm really sorry, but I can't come tonight." Too stunned to speak, Hawke just looked at her friend in disbelief. "I know, I know, but something came up. An old friend of mine turned up at the docks and asked for me. I owe him a favor. A big one. And he's called it in. I'm so sorry!" Fidgeting, her fingers running over her belt buckle, Hawke stuttered out something along the lines of "whah...how...but I...how will I..." Grinning weakly, Isabela patted her cheek. "I'll still be able to do your hair and such as promised, but I'll have to leave soon after. Did you get anyone else to come along?" Shaking her head, Hawke held her breath. She had actually started to look forward to the evening. Getting drunk, laughing, relaxing, enjoying herself for once. And now it was all falling apart. She could feel tears welling up, and shook herself. "I guess I'll just head over to the Rose and cancel then," she said, trying not to let her voice tremble. "What?" Isabela looked shocked. "You can't just do that! You need this lovely one. Surely you have more friends than just me," she laughed. Waving her hands weakly, Hawke looked up at the sky. "I've asked everyone. Or, nearly everyone. This is the Rose we're talking about Isa, I can't bring Merrill or Aveline. And Anders is probably way too busy. Varric had plans, so that leaves no one." Raising her perfectly plucked brows, Isabela leaned towards Hawke. "You've forgotten one. Fenris. I know, for a fact, that he has no plans. He never has any anyhow. Why don't you ask him?" Hawke almost fell down the steps. "Fenris? Are you serious? You know we don't get along Isa, how on earth am I going to get him to go to the Rose with me? For something like that?" Steadying her friend by throwing an arm around her waist, Isabela just smiled. "Try. You never know, he might just come with you. No matter your differences, he does care for you."

–

The knock on the battered door reverberated through the mansion. She had been outside for at least half an hour, almost turning away three times. "Stop shaking you silly bitch," Hawke scolded herself. Why did Fenris have to be so hard for her to deal with? Normally, she wouldn't bat an eye at talking to anyone, even people that despised mages. After all, what did she care what they thought of her? She knew her own worth, her strengths and her weaknesses. No one could change that, and so their opinions would not matter to her. But for some reason, his did, and she couldn't – wouldn't – admit to herself the reason why. Sure, he was the most gorgeous example of a male elf she had ever seen. Sure, his voice made her weak in the knees, making her feel like she was swimming in warm honey. And the lyrium...it almost physically drew her to him, it felt so entrancing. She had never touched him on purpose, but the few accidental brushes against him had turned her bones to jelly, sending a spark through her entire body.

All this, of course, was purely circumstances beyond her control. Facts of life. Things that just happened. She was in no way infatuated with the elf. Not possible. Just, no.

"Hawke, what are you rambling on about?" That silky, deep voice seemed to surround her, making her jump. She hadn't noticed the door opening. Faintly, she wondered how long he'd been standing there. And how much of her wayward thoughts she had actually spoken aloud. Absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around her finger, she looked up at the sky. "How long have you been standing there? I mean," she blushed. "What did I say?" He made a sound halfway between a grunt and a snort, and she thought she saw his lips curl slightly. "Obviously something was not possible, that is all I could make out." Oh yes. His voice had a slight burr to it, like he was trying not to chuckle. He found this funny, that was just great. Clearing her throat, Hawke decided that it would be best to jump in head first. No tippy-toeing into this mess. "Fenris, I was wondering...do you have anything planned for tonight?" He came slightly closer, she could smell leather, wine, lyrium, the faint scent that was purely masculine and him. "You see, I'm going to a...a masquerade ball. At the Rose. Isa was supposed to come with me, but she had to cancel. I wouldn't normally intrude, but I do not wish to go there on my own, and you did say I could call on you if I needed you." Blushing deeper, she took a short breath. "And, well, I'm calling. On you that is. To escort me. I know it's not your usual type of...job...but I would appreciate it if you came along."

There. She'd said it. Now, if he would only answer. She could feel his eyes on her, intense gaze making her face and body feel on fire.

–

She still had her face to the sky. Her face was tinged with a pinky red across the cheekbones and up her ears. Her breathing short and nervous. He kept staring at her, however, willing her to meet his gaze. Reluctantly, she did so, turning those brilliant silvery blue eyes towards him. He brought a hand up to her cheek, barely touching the smooth skin there.

"I'll go."