Author's Note: Again, this chapter is longer than the one before! I can't help it, it just felt right. :) I'm sorry about dragging out the first Fenris/Hawke encounter for so long - I guess I'm just intrigued by the events that brought them together and I wanted to expand on them and put my own twist on it. Don't worry, you can read about their first "proper" meeting in the next chapter!
Disclaimer: Fenris, Hawke and all other characters in this story are owned by Bioware. I'm just here to play with them.
Wolf Unchained, Chapter 4
The mansion was silent and dark, but Fenris did not believe for a moment that it was abandoned. His keen training had taught him to never underestimate the cunning nature of an opponent, and he knew that Danarius was anything but foolish. He would not have left a trail to his location that was easy to follow, and the house would certainly not be obviously guarded by an army of men. If he was in there, however... Fenris felt a horrifying chill run up his spine and a cold, clammy hand seemed to reach out, grasping for his heart. His eyes widened for a moment and he struggled to breathe. He regained his composure almost immediately and turned away, ashamed of his own weakness and fear. He could not risk being seen here, not now when he was so close to reaching his goal. He also knew that he dared not enter that house on his own; he could only imagine what horrors of magic awaited inside.
He had been scouting the mansion from the rooftop of one of the adjacent buildings; now he began climbing down the wall of the house with surprising athleticism, making absolutely sure that no one could hear or see him as he made his way down. When he finally reached an appropriate height, he released his grip of the wall and landed safely on the ground, glancing in either direction to make sure that he was still unobserved. His whole body was tense and his senses were on high alert, thoughts darting through his mind like caged animals about the possibilities he had, the strategies he could take in order to gain entrance into the mansion, yet all he could hear in his head were two words, repeated over and over again: "So close, so close, so close..."
He knew that he had to clear his head in order to form a plan, and to do that he had to get away from this location. He retrieved the greatsword he had stashed away before his climb on the rooftop and secured it firmly on his back before disappearing in one of the Hightown back alleys. This neighbourhood was well guarded and the patrols were numerous, yet he had managed to find his way to Danarius' mansion without much difficulty by blending with the shadows. His lyrium markings usually made it easy for others to spot him, despite the black clothing he chose to wear, as the magic could not be concealed by any material. Yet Fenris had learned to subdue the glow of the markings during his travels by applying intense self-control; learning how to stay hidden had served him well.
It had not been difficult to find the mansion the slaver had mentioned before Fenris had snapped his neck; in a neighbourhood such as this, everyone seemed to know who was who and where they resided. He only had to casually listen to a few groups of locals before he heard about the strange foreigners that had moved into one of the Hightown mansions a few days ago. They had apparently caused quite a stir since a group of malnourished-looking slaves had been with them and someone had reported that to the local guard. When the guards had arrived to inspect the problem the mansion had been empty, save for a few servants who didn't seem to know anything. Fenris, however, knew that they would not have left that quickly – especially since they had not caught him yet, and he was their main prize. He could only wonder whether Danarius himself had been one of those foreigners, and whether the hated magister was lurking in that mansion right now, quietly lying in wake for Fenris in the midst of all his clever traps and summoned demons, waiting for him to make the first move.
Fenris also heard rumours about a second group of slavers that had been spotted at an alienage in Lowtown, carrying what looked to be a very expensive and adorned chest. This intrigued him in particular, and various theories began running through his mind about the contents of this chest. Could it be treasure? That seemed too crude, even for Tevinter slavers. Perhaps it contained some of Danarius' most valuable tomes of magic? This seemed more likely, because Fenris knew that Danarius cherished these tomes almost as much as his life. The magister always carried them around on his travels and gave them his very best protection, because the spells in these tomes were invaluable to him. Fenris knew this well because he had been given the task of looking after these tomes of power on more than one occasion, and had experienced excruciating pain whenever Danarius had deemed that he had not done a good enough job of protecting them. If Fenris could possibly get his hands on some of these tomes, he would have something very valuable and precious to bargain with – something that might even bring the wizard out of hiding, and give the elven slave the opportunity he needed to finish this cat-and-mouse game once and for all.
As Fenris' footsteps began leading him in the direction of the Blooming Rose, a plan began forming in his head. He was indeed going to make the first move, but it would not be the move Danarius expected him to make, he thought triumphantly while walking through the dark and quiet street. The slaver had mentioned that he had been paid by someone else, another magister, right here outside this brothel. Fenris didn't know who that could possibly be – Danarius had many apprentices, all of them despicable social climbers who only cared about their own ascension into Tevinter's limelight – but perhaps it would be possible for him to find out more if he visited the brothel and casually asked around, or even just listened. It might also be worthwhile to see if he could find a group of mercenaries that could aid him in his attempt to storm the mansion. It was a potentially dangerous plan because one of Danarius' spies could still be inside, looking for him, but Fenris had made a solemn promise to stop running and he wasn't going to break it now. If they saw him, he would kill them, or die trying.
He glanced up at the plaque above the door, placed a hand on the handle and shuddered. A part of him could not believe that he was going to look for aid in a brothel, but he was not in a position to bargain. And besides, desperate times..
He took a deep breath, pulled the door open and stepped inside, but not before two large and obviously terrified men crashed right into him on their way out of the brothel, sending him flying backwards onto the cold stone ground. Fenris cursed loudly in Tevinter and tried to grasp one of the fleeing men to hold them accountable for the offense, but all he caught was a wisp of air. The men had advanced beyond his reach, disappearing quickly in the deepening shadows of the night, running as if the Archdemon himself was on their heels.
"So much for Kirkwall hospitality," he mumbled under his breath as he picked himself up and dusted off his armour. Yet the surprises of the Blooming Rose did not seem to end there - as he finally managed to enter the brothel, the most peculiar sight unfolded before his eyes.
Most of the room was in complete disarray. Several tables lay overturned, chairs were thrown everywhere and the finely polished wooden floor was covered in splinters and blood. Five armoured men were sprawled out on the floor, some of them dead, some grasping a leg or an arm and crying out in pain. A dwarf and a human female were standing in the middle of it all, looking down at the body of one of the mercenaries. The woman was holding a bloody and twisted arrow in her left hand; her clothing was torn and her arm was bleeding, but she did not seem to notice this. Her skin was pale yet her cheeks were full of colour, and her face was partially covered by wild locks of dark red hair. She seemed to be out of breath and her gaze was focused on the body of the man who lay beneath her, slumped against an overthrown table.
As Fenris watched her, she kicked the man and made him roll over on his back. The dwarf tilted his head and said something to the red-head, but Fenris was too far away to hear what was said. The dwarf was interrupted by a woman who carried herself with great importance, and by the way she started shouting and issuing demands, Fenris assumed that she was the owner of the brothel. The strange couple began quickly advancing toward the exit of the Blooming Rose, which Fenris was currently blocking, so he stepped aside as the dwarf and the human approached, observing them carefully as they walked past.
"She really doesn't hold a grudge that long, although the same might not be said about Meeran-", he heard the dwarf say hurriedly, but the woman seemed to be more amused by the whole ordeal than anything else, and she couldn't hide the grin on her face.
"Oh I don't know, he might wake up tomorrow.. or in a couple of days.. and find that he's forgotten all about me," she said jokingly as they were exiting the brothel, and their laughter was still ringing in his ears as he watched them walk down the Hightown street and finally disappear around a corner.
"Most curious," Fenris said thoughtfully to himself as he stepped back into the brothel and observed the swift changes that were now taking place around the dead and wounded bodies. The owner was giving out orders left and right with a determined look on her face that seemed to say that she was not going to allow a disturbance like this to ruin her evening. Several servant girls were already bringing buckets of water and soup to clean the floor, while others, dressed too garishly to be anything but whores, were daintily tiptoeing around the bodies of the wounded, gingerly lifting up swords and daggers and throwing them in a pile in the middle of the room. They were laughing and chatting among themselves in a manner that seemed almost unnatural considering the brutal events that had just taken place.
Fenris found the commotion rather helpful, because it meant that absolutely no one seemed to pay any attention to the rather strange looking yet unobtrusive elf in the corner. After looking around and failing to spot anyone who looked like they might be working for Danarius, he felt safe enough to approach the bar and order a drink. He soon found himself sitting next to a chatty dwarf, who seemed eager to discuss what had just happened with anyone who was willing to listen. "I'm telling you, it was Hawke!", the dwarf exclaimed loudly and slammed his fist on the table, looking at the man on his right. "She's been working for that elf Athenril and her band of smugglers for over a year now, and doing some fine work too if you ask me, the damn Coterie has got too many fingers in too many pies these days-"
"It couldn't have been Hawke, Anso, you've been drinking too much," the man shook his head in a motion of disbelief. "Everyone knows that Hawke is a man who is six feet tall, and he's been smuggling the most dangerous goods in and out of Kirkwall for years! He's the best smuggler in Lowtown, not some weedy little girl with red hair and a foul mouth!"
"You saw what she just did!" The dwarf called Anso insisted heatedly, pointing at the bodies that were now being dragged out of the brothel with the help of some elven servants and left in a heap for the guards to find in the morning. "Did she not look deadly to you? Did she not just defeat the leader of those Red Iron mercenaries by busting his brains in? It was Hawke, and Blight take your sorry arse for not believing me!"
The man simply continued to shake his head and drank his ale. "Rubbish, Anso, utter rubbish," he mumbled and rolled his eyes. "I almost wish I hadn't bought you that beer now; your information is worth less than an urchin's shoe."
"I'll show you how much it's worth, you filthy, stinkin'-"
"Hey, dwarf," Fenris said lowly, making Anso turn around in the heat of his outrage. The dwarf's eyes widened for a moment as he saw the lyrium markings that branded the elf's skin and the menacing sword that hung heavily on his back. His dark armour was covered in dried blood, which was not a particularly unusual sight in Kirkwall, but there was something about this elf that Anso found rather unsettling and intimidating. He could hardly believe that he hadn't noticed the approach of this stranger before - he had obviously been far too engrossed in his heated discussion with the man next to him to notice that someone was listening in on his every word.
Fenris motioned the bartender to his side with his right hand. "I'll buy you a beer if you can tell me everything you know about the woman and the dwarf who left a moment ago," he said quietly to Anso while looking around the room, his senses still on high alert. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them as the clean-up of the fight was still taking place. Good. "And there might be some more coin in it for you as well... if what you will tell me turns out to be true." He turned his head slightly to fix his gaze on the dwarf. "Does that sound like a deal to you?"
"Oh yes, certainly messere!" Anso licked his dry lips as the bartender refilled his jug, his apprehension about Fenris' appearance immediately forgotten at the prospect of having someone else listen to his story and fill his belly with drink. "Well, I don't mean anything bad by it messere, but you must be fairly new in this city if you haven't heard about Hawke, or even Varric Tethras, he and his brother are fairly known as well, even though their family has now been casteless for almost a century.."
Fenris tilted his head as he listened to the dwarf's tale, taking in the information quietly and asking only the occasional question, which Anso was happy to answer. The elf slowly learned many things about the curious red-headed woman and her dwarven companion, including that she and her merry band of accomplices were now considered a formidable force in the Kirkwall underground. As he listened to Anso's descriptions of their accomplishments thus far, many of them more than likely exaggerated, Fenris mulled the information over in his head. He had been impressed by the way a dwarf and a human female had managed to take down five well-equipped mercenaries in the middle of a brothel, and judging by what Anso was telling him, the woman had not been particularly sober either, which made the feat all the more remarkable. He was unsure whether or not Hawke and her friends would be able to deal with a whole group of slavers who would be hell-bent on capturing him, but he was willing to see what the outcome of such an encounter would be. It seemed that Hawke was rather desperate to earn money for an expedition she was planning, and if Fenris could convince Anso to lie on his behalf it would be possible to get her aid without even discussing it with her. Perhaps this was the help Fenris had been looking for all along?
"I have a proposition for you, dwarf, which you might find most profitable," Fenris finally said after Anso had finished telling his story and was drinking his third beer. "It will include some deception on your part. I trust that won't be a problem for someone like you?"
Anso grinned at the elf, having taken a sudden liking to him after he had been such a patient listener and gracious provider of booze. His spirits were high and he was curious to hear about the elf's deal – it would be a sad day indeed when Anso the dwarf would turn down the prospect of cheating someone out of their money. "If it's deception you're looking for, messere, I believe you've come to the right dwarf!"
Fenris' lips twisted into in a smirk. "That's what I figured," he said as he went over the final details of his plan in his head. "Now listen to me very carefully Anso, and do exactly as I say..."
Meanwhile, in Lowtown...
"Marian, look at you! Look at the state you're in!" The woman fussed over the still less-than-sober girl who had flopped down in a chair in the cramped and filthy space that served as the Hawke living room. "Your arm is bleeding! Oh Carver, please, grab me some bandages, they're in the second drawer to your right-"
"I can only imagine what trouble you managed to get into this time, Marian," Carver scowled as he grudgingly followed the woman's orders and went looking for the bandages. "Were you attacked by bandits on the street or something?"
"Don't worry about it mother, it looks worse than it is. No, actually, it was in the Blooming-, er, it was in a blummin' bar," Hawke bit her tongue and looked away, avoiding her brother's scrutinizing gaze. She wasn't going to admit to him that she and Varric had spent the entire evening in a brothel, although she had a sneaking suspicion that Carver had visited the place on his own several times for rather dubious reasons. She knew that he would never admit it, and talking about it would only cause another argument they didn't need. "I think they were trying to steal my money, and Varric ended up defending me. He was very brave, really."
Carver snorted. "I'm pretty sure you were completely capable of defending yourself," he sneered as he passed the bandages to their mother. "What with your special skills and all," he added bitterly in a low voice, but it was loud enough for Marian to hear it and for their mother to shoot a warning glance in her son's direction.
Marian furrowed her brow. "If you think that I'm stupid enough to use magic in public then you're thicker than a hurlock's arse," she said fiercely, conveniently forgetting her earlier outburst in front of Aveline and Varric. She stretched out her left arm impatiently while her mother wrapped the thin and flexible bandages around it. "But I can defend myself, and I did. And now I'm home, and I'm safe, and there's nothing to worry about."
"You should have taken me with you!" Carver suddenly exclaimed and approached his sister, his eyes glowing brightly with determination. He was tall for his age and the time they had spent in Kirkwall had seasoned him well in battle. Quite often Marian tended to forget that he was younger than her, especially when he was towering over her like this."I should have been there to protect you against these.. these cretins," he continued angrily. "And instead you leave me here at home with Gamlen-"
"I left you here because you never approve of what I do!" Marian shouted back, pulling her arm away from her mother's touch and standing up from her chair, her face inches away from Carver's. "You always think that smuggling is beneath you, and-"
"What the hell is going on around here?" A grumpy voice suddenly interrupted as an elderly man appeared from one of the adjacent bedrooms with an annoyed look on his face. "Don't you people ever sleep? Leandra, what's this about?"
"Oh Gamlen, I'm so sorry for waking you up," Hawke's mother cooed gently, looking from Hawke's uncle back to her children with exasperation. "Marian just got home, and she apparently ran into some trouble.."
The siblings looked away from each other, and suddenly Marian felt incredibly tired. She sighed and began moving toward the second bedroom, walking past her uncle without glancing at him. "It's not important Gamlen, go back to sleep," she said tiredly. "I will do the same, because I could really use the rest. And no mother, I'm not hungry," she added before shuffling into the bedroom and closing the door behind her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Oh to have money, to be rich, to have a status in this city, to have as much coin as she would need to get out of this house and never to return..
Undressing seemed like an unnecessary chore. As Marian crawled into the top bunk bed of the room, sleep took her almost immediately, and for that the young mage was incredibly grateful.