A/n: can't describe how good it feels to receive such positive reviews after a difficult chapter :) Thank you all!
Miriam peered into her tankard, frowning thoughtfully in an attempt to draw some palatable analogy with the ale's color. The attempt at associating it with anything other than byproducts usually found in the dark corner behind a tavern failed miserably, but she didn't really care at that point. The view of beaten up and bound Qunari, that templar slitting his throat… well, that was wrong, that's what it was. And she was late yet again, her own throwing knife plunging into the templar's throat a second after. Hawke snorted into her drink. At this rate she'd probably be late for her own funeral. Which wasn't such a bad thing, but…
"I pointed Bianca at them and said… Come on, Raven, this tankard is as big as you are, and it's your third," Varric realized she wasn't listening and tried to pry the tankard out of her hands, but Hawke clutched it like her life depended on it.
"Thas a strange thing to say to an army of abominations," she wondered, looking at the dwarf with slightly blurry eyes.
"Let her drink, I want to see how many will it take for her to fall over," Isabela sprawled on a seat across the table, leaning on Anders with a tankard in her hand, looking at Hawke with scientist's curiosity.
"'s magic," Miriam shook her head and straightened indignantly. "No falling over."
"Don't you come crawling to me tomorrow, o magic drunkard," the mage wagged his finger at her, and she found herself suddenly fascinated by it. Anders had long and slender fingers, not unlike her father. And, like her father's, the harsh life of an apostate left its mark on his hands, coarsened with hard work, stained from mixing potions. The mage frowned, moving his finger as her eyes followed it. "I think she's had enough."
"Don't you want to have your way with her while she's drunk?" the pirate put her arm around Anders's shoulders, smirking. "I know I do."
Anders rolled his eyes. He was pitifully sober, nursing a glass of wine the whole evening, as usual. Hawke always thought it was because he was afraid to lose control of himself, but Varric's theory was that Justice forbade him to drink alcohol and stay up late.
"You jus' want to get in my pants," Miriam looked reproachfully at the pirate and sighed with all the sorrow in the world. "You don't care 'bout the person underneath."
"Underneath those pants?" Isabela gave her a smoldering look. Varric chuckled and leaned back for a better view at the scene. "Speaking of pants…"
"I don't know where Fenris is! Why do you keep pestering me?" Hawke said quickly.
Silence fell around the table, complete with raised eyebrows. Miriam clutched her tankard in both hands and slid lower on her chair, so that only her head and shoulders were above the table.
"Where is the elf?" Varric finally asked. Hawke, suddenly devoid of her blissful drunken mist, could see him poised ready to jump at any saucy details he could find out. Not that it would make any difference if she kept her mouth shut, though. He'd just make something up. "He's our broody Qunari expert, after all. Qunari hunting without his trademark brooding is just no Qunari hunting."
"How should I know?" Hawke muttered testily from her hiding place. "He's a free man; he comes and goes as he pleases."
"Ohhh, they did the nasty!" Isabela exclaimed happily, releasing Anders to sit closer to Hawke and get a hold of her before she ran away. "Tell us all the juicy details! What was it like? Oh, I can imagine all that repressed passion behind the guarded exterior…"
"Isabela!" Anders interrupted her angrily.
"Jealous much?" the pirate smirked. "You could always come and cry on my bosom, Blondie. Justice, too. More people – more fun."
"I'm not—"
"My, that blush looks almost painful," Varric wondered, studying Hawke. Anders and Isabela looked down on her red face, stopping their argument.
"That's because she's smothering me," Miriam wheezed out and made an attempt to crawl up. "There's nothing between Fenris and me."
"Whoops, sorry," Isabela released the pressure slightly. "So can I have a go?"
"Knock yourself out," Hawke muttered, paying due attention to her tankard. She tried not to think about what happened between Fenris and her last night, and she certainly didn't want to talk about it. She wouldn't mind throwing knives at his picture pinned to the wall, though.
But once she was over the initial anger, she just didn't know what to think about it. Did she love him? She found him attractive, yes, and she liked spending time with him, whether it was scrambling through the Wounded Coast to root out one lair of villainy or another, teaching him to read, just talking over some expensive wine by the fireplace, or… well, spending the night together. She cared for him, yes, but she also cared for Varric, infuriating Isabela, Aveline and the others. Inviting them all into her bed wasn't exactly her lifelong dream. Perhaps that night was just something they both needed at that time, and maybe it was for the best that they weren't stuck with each other afterwards. She could almost convince herself. Still, was he going to disappear?
Hawke snapped back to reality with the whooshing of Isabela's hand in front of her face.
"Look at her, all lost in the memories. You simply must share them with us!" the pirate urged her again.
"Fine. We argued, and then he slammed me into the wall and took me right there," Hawke whispered dreamily, looking directly at Isabela.
"Really?" the pirate looked like a kid in a candy store.
"No," Hawke replied calmly and took a sip of her ale. Now if she could only have…
"Serah Hawke! Serah Hawke?"
…this.
Miriam waved to draw the attention of the Maker's gift that just walked in and was searching the crowd for her. Relief was evident on the young guard's face when he rushed to her. Her friends, on the other hand, didn't seem so happy.
"Is Aveline finally going to arrest me for hiding under her table? I keep telling her that was political refuge, but…"
"You hid under Aveline's table?" Varric cut in incredulously.
"Didn't know the old girl had it in her…" Isabela wondered.
"Long story," Hawke waved them off and turned her attention back to the man, now clearly uncomfortable. She smirked with satisfaction. Aveline was probably going to kill her later, but the look on her guard's face when they discussed his captain was totally worth it. Not to mention they were finally off the topic of her and Fenris. "So?"
"The captain said to uh… ask you to come to the Qunari compound at once… serrah," the guard said.
"Really? She said that?" Isabela raised an eyebrow.
"Judging by our friend's face it was probably something along the lines of dragging my sorry ass to the compound this instant," Hawke shrugged. "What did I do this time?"
"Maybe it's about the dead Qunari," Anders suggested quietly. Miriam groaned. Well, at least now everybody has definitely forgotten about Fenris.
"Too bad the elf is not here then," Varric said, crushing her hopes.
"Alright," she stood up, staggering slightly, and raised her arm like a general ordering her troops to charge. "To the Compound!"
Her march came to an abrupt end before it began, however. One moment she was standing with her arm raised, the other she saw the floor rapidly getting closer. She was just beginning to contemplate the curious shape of a taint on it when her fall was broken by Isabela. The pirate pulled her up and smirked at Anders who was soon at her other side.
"Can you wiggle your magic fingers and make her fit to meet the big horned guy?" she asked the healer.
"There is something I can do…" Anders answered thoughtfully.
"I hate you all," Hawke muttered as they walked to the Compound. Well, she hated Isabela most of all, because of the way the pirate laughed at her predicament and then refused to leave the tavern, saying she had no interest to be told off by Aveline yet again, but Anders came a very close second. And Varric was clearly too happy. Her hair still dripped water. It trickled down her back, making the armor highly uncomfortable. And it was cold.
"It worked, didn't it?" Anders smiled innocently.
She snorted indignantly. It did.
