This story is going to be way harder to pull off than I thought. It's so strange to be writing it so differently than playing the game through. Minus the characters, it doesn't feel like a dragon age fic! But I hope you enjoy anyway, thank you to all my new subscribers and again, reviews are encouraged!

Emeline was drawing herself a bath, winding down after another day. It had been a few days since she'd met that mysterious elf. Fenris. She'd thought of him a lot since they met. He was so frightening, but she wasn't scared. His voice like candle wax. He was beautiful, but she wasn't lusting over him. She was intrigued. Fascinated. She wanted to see him again. You barged into his house uninvited, drunk. Why would he want to see you?

"Ahh…" she exclaimed at the hot water. It was just the right amount of burning hot. She relaxed into the temperature, leaning back to soak her hair. The past few days had been rather uneventful, minus meeting Fenris. Kirkwall was still in ruins. Everyone was asking questions. Asking her questions, expecting her to have answers. She was getting tired. So tired. She was sick of being in the middle. The Champion of Kirkwall. She could disguise herself as a regular woman, pretend, walk without armour, but at the end of the day, they all knew. She was someone of importance, someone who could save your life, or end it. Some people wanted her dead. Others wanted favors.

Emeline found herself the complete opposite of relaxed as all of this spun in circles in her head. She tried to brush away her thoughts for the rest of the evening.

Fenris sat in a corner of The Hanged Man. His white hair drawn over his eyes, drinking a pint of Maker knows what. It would have to do. The wine supply in his abandoned mansion was shrinking. He wasn't all that fond of being out and around so many people, but he had to admit, it was at least entertaining listening to the conversations around him. Most of them were of the Grey Warden, the Hero of Ferelden. More often, they were about the Champion of Kirkwall. Emeline. He downed the rest of his drink, continuing to observe.

"Don't believe me, do you? Ha! I guess that's for the best, if you don't believe me then she won't beat me up for spilling one of her most embarrassing secrets."

Fenris' ears perked up at the conversation that was occurring a few feet away from him.

"So you just stroll right on in the Champion's mansion, her read her diary, and tell all us drunken idiots of its content, is that it?" An amused man's voice spoke, followed by a laugh.

"Like I said, it's better if you don't believe me. Get a few drinks in me and my dear Emeline is done for," the first voice spoke again. Fenris looked over, spotting a beardless dwarf, sitting in a chair, looking up to the second man with an amused look painting his features. So he's the story teller. He waited for the man who was speaking with him to leave to fetch another drink before walking over to him. "You…personally know the Champion?"

Varric eyed the elf momentarily before responding. "Do I?" He propped his elbow up on the arm rest of the chair, resting his head on his fist. "You must be new here."

Fenris knitted his eyebrows together. "Not…entirely. I just. I met Emeline. I was wondering…" He trailed off. He felt foolish. What is it that he even wanted to know about her? Why was he speaking to this dwarf?

"Emeline?" Luckily, the dwarf cut him off mid-thought. "Well. I must admit I'm not used to calling her that yet, but yes. Emeline is our Champion. As much as she'd like to deny it. Guess it's what makes her, her. If it were me, I'd be milking that cow."

This dwarf is strange.

"How did you meet?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Emeline. How'd you meet her? Never seen you around myself."

Fenris rubbed his forehead. "I keep to myself. We met…accidentally. She offered me…work, I suppose. Do you know where to find her? I know she's in Hightown, but I don't…" He was tired of talking to this dwarf. He just wanted to know where she was. Even if he chose to never go to her. Which would be the right choice…

Varric caught the trouble in Fenris' brooding eyes. "Her estate might be the place to look," he offered. "Tell you what. Come by here during the day tomorrow, I'll show you the way. I need to speak with her anyway."

Fenris considered the offer. He really didn't want to have to deal with this dwarf again, but he didn't have much to lose in paying Emeline a visit…

"I…accept. You have my thanks…"

"-Varric Tethras, a pleasure." Varric extended his hand, Fenris reluctantly giving it a quick shake, nodding his head before making his way out of The Hanged Man. He wasn't the type to give out his name. Not the type to trust anyone. Apparently it was something he'd have to get used to.

A/N: Fenris is a bitch to write when it's out of game context. Gfdklgjfs. This chapter feels pointless, but I'm trying not to rush these two. Fenris/Emeline interaction on the way, I promise!