Fenris wasn't sure what he thought of the new volunteer at the shelter. She came in a room like a summer squall- brash, with a loud, easy laugh and a frequent grin. Her lack of height belied her large personality, and her short dark hair framed her face. She was pretty, he'd admit. But Maker, was she a handful. She even went by her last name- Hawke, a name as bold as she was.
That day, she had volunteered to help babysit the residents' children while the residents attended free medical checkups in the other room. The checkups were arranged by Fenris and administered by a rather shabby-looking blond doctor who had deep circles under his eyes. Many of the residents were former slaves from Tevinter, a country where slavery was officially banned but unofficially common among the rich rulers known as magisters. These refugees likely hadn't had a checkup in years, if at all. The doctor came by regularly on a volunteer basis to see to new residents, which the shelter was eminently grateful for, but to Fenris there was always something off about him.
Hawke was outside playing a game with some of the children. It looked like it involved a lot of jumping, with Hawke dramatically falling several times- apparently on purpose, from the way it made the children laugh. He shook his head and turned back to the front desk where he sat, waiting to take any calls or help his coworkers with any odd jobs.
"Fenris? Come see for a second," his boss, Lirene, called from her office. He got up from the front desk and walked into the cramped corner office. Lirene had one eye on the window, watching Hawke and the children playing.
"It looks like our other volunteer didn't show, and for legal reasons I need more than one person out there with the kids," she said. "Would you mind babysitting duty for tonight?"
"Of course," Fenris said. "I do not mind."
"Thanks," Lirene said with a sigh. "Maker knows I need more people like you." She turned back to her computer, where she had a budget spreadsheet open. Fenris could tell when he was being dismissed. He walked out and opened the door to the small playground area. It wasn't fully a playground- it was more of a concrete yard with some old donated playground equipment, but it was more than the shelter could afford on its own. Some of the kids immediately ran up to him, yelling excitedly.
"Mr. Fenris! Mrs. Hawke was showing us a new game!"
"Oh? What game?" he asked with a smile.
"We've been doing dramatic pretend deaths," Hawke said with a grin. "The kids attack me and I pretend to die very theatrically."
Fenris wasn't sure how appropriate that was for children, but at least they seemed excited.
"My name is Fenris," he said, offering his hand. Hawke gave it a no-nonsense shake and then laughed.
"Victoria Hawke," she said. "I'm new to volunteering here. I'm friends with the doctor who does the medical stuff here, he's the one who told me you guys needed more volunteers."
"Oh, you know the doctor?" Fenris said. The man had always struck him the wrong way, but he wasn't about to say that to Hawke.
"Yeah, Anders?" Hawke said. "He's great, he helped my family out when my sister got in that car wreck." She shook her head. "That's a long story, though. It's nice to meet you!"
She returned to playing with the kids, chasing them around the yard while they shrieked with glee. Fenris watched with amusement. She was a natural with children; he did not have that gift. He sat on a bench nearby and watched, smiling. It was good to see the children get to be children again. Especially when he himself couldn't remember-
No, he chided himself. Not now. I won't bring that back up again.
Hawke enjoyed playing with the kids, but once in a while she would sneak a glance at the elf seated on the bench. He had a shock of white hair and what looked like tattoos- tattoos that glowed. He was cute, too. Hawke considered inviting him to the Hanged Man later for drinks but thought the better of it. Varric and Isabela would probably scare him away. Hawke had to admit she was a shameless flirt, but something about this guy seemed a little… intimidating.
By the end of the night, Hawke knew she was going to be sore and possibly a little bruised from all the pratfalls she had taken that night. It was worth it, though. She had a lot of fun with the kids. I'll have to come back more often, she thought. Well, when I'm not working.
And when wasn't she working these days? Living in her uncle's apartment with her mom and brother was… not ideal, to say the least. Working a few odd jobs kept them off the streets and paid her uncle's gambling debts. She hardly let herself hope for more. She left the shelter that night with Anders, who had given her a ride there. She tried to help the environment by carpooling- and it didn't hurt that Anders' car was cleaner and all-around nicer than hers.
"How did it go with the kids?" Anders asked. He always seemed so haggard that Hawke couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Today he was looking especially gaunt chic. Hawke could tell he had been pulling a lot of all-nighters lately.
"Oh, you know. I'm considering stealing a few to keep around the house," she said.
"I hear they frown on that," he said with a smile. "Want to pick up fast food on the way back to Gamlen's?"
"Maker, yes," she sighed. "I haven't eaten since this morning."
"So you talked to that elf that sits at the front desk?" Anders said, opening the passenger side door of his car for her. She got in with an unladylike grunt.
"Yeah, his name is Fenris," she said. "He's so mysterious and broody. He's exactly my type."
Anders smiled. He turned the car on and started backing out of the parking spot. "What's the deal with those tattoos?" he asked, eyes on the road.
"I never asked," Hawke said. She paused. "Did they see you… you know."
"No," he said shortly. "I didn't have to use any magic this time." They sat in silence as Anders drove into the nearest drive-through and ordered them both burgers and fries. As they ate, they chatted about their days, their friends, everything but the thing Hawke knew was troubling him. Until Hawke finally decided to bring it up.
"I'm as pro-mage-rights as anyone, but you can't keep using it so openly," Hawke said. "You're just begging the templars to come swooping down on us."
"There won't be any swooping," Anders said drily. "If I can use magic to help people, and I'm not doing it, isn't that wrong?"
"You could help more people by staying outside of prison," Hawke said. Or worse, she thought with a shiver, being made Tranquil. Tranquil mages gave her the creeps- it was a sentence handed out to the most unrepentant of mages, something that prevented them from using their magic ever again but also stripping them of all personality and substance.
"Let's not have this argument again," Anders said through a mouthful of burger. "It's late and I have work at the clinic early in the morning."
"You really seem bent on testing the human limits of sleeplessness," Hawke said. "Fine, I won't bring it up again." He drove her home in silence, focusing on the road stretching ahead of them.
As they pulled up to Hawke's apartment, she got a text from Varric.
9:15 pm : Hawke! I got a job for you.
She sighed. Varric was always finding her odd jobs around Kirkwall. He also insisted on texting with full punctuation and correct grammar. He could be such an old fogie, sometimes.
Hawke got out of the car and thanked Anders before heading up the stairs to her apartment. She winced as she turned the key in the lock, knowing her mother would be there to chastise her for being out so late with 'that boy'- although, Hawke knew her mother was secretly hoping that she'd date the handsome doctor already. Instead, it was dead silent when she walked in the apartment. Her mother Leandra was sitting on the couch, staring at the news station on the television with her brow knitted.
"What's wrong, mum?" Hawke asked. "Did Gamlen go gambling again?" Leandra always stayed up waiting for her brother when he went out making bad decisions.
"Carver has news," her mother said, grimacing as if she had just eaten a lemon. Just then, her brother came loping down the stairs, looking very proud of himself.
"Sister!" he said, chin turned up. "I'm joining the templars."
The templars, the nickname for an elite unit of the police force, were tasked with tracking and policing magic use.
"You realize you live with a mage, right?" Hawke said. "What, if you turn me in do you get a promotion?"
"If you don't do anything wrong, you won't even have to worry about it," Carver said angrily. Hawke shook her head and stormed upstairs to the room she (temporarily, she hoped) shared with her brother and slammed the door as if she was a teenager again. She sent a quick text off to Isabela.
9:20pm: need a place to stay for the night
9:21pm: come crash on my couch. what's wrong?
She hurried and packed a bag with some clothes and her toothbrush when she heard someone coming up the stairs.
"Victoria?" her mother called. "We should talk about this."
Hawke opened the door and came face to face with her mother.
"What's there to talk about?" she said flippantly. "I'm staying with Isabela for the night."
Her mother sighed. "The templars make good money, Carver's just trying to help the family-"
"Maker knows someone should," Carver said, coming up the stairs.
"So what am I, chopped liver? I've just been working for fun this whole time?" Hawke said. She pushed past her mother and brother and went down the stairs taking them two steps at a time, overnight bag in hand. She strode across the living room and walked out the front door, internally fuming at Carver.
It was only a few blocks to Isabela's apartment but she drove anyway, not wanting to walk by herself at night. The neighborhood they lived in wasn't bad, per se- realtors would say it had "character." Hawke circled the block a couple of times, not wanting Isabela to see how upset she was at the news. She couldn't believe Carver. Of all the jobs in the city, the templars? How could he? Knowing that Hawke was a mage, and that Bethany- well, Hawke reminded herself with a pang of grief, Bethany was a mage. Just another thing for her mother to blame her for.
Isabela lived on the third floor of a run-down building next door to the Hanged Man, where she bartended most nights. She must have been waiting for Hawke because she answered the door on the first knock.
"Hawke! What's wrong?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing," Hawke said. "Just that Carver's joining the templars."
"He did what? Come on in, you sound like you need a drink," Isabela said, ushering Hawke inside her apartment. It was sparsely furnished and messy with clothes strewn across furniture she likely found on Craigslist. Hawke dropped her overnight bag on the floor and hugged her friend, knowing that Isabela was probably patting her pockets to find loose cash.
"So baby brother found himself a new job?" Isabela said, slumping into her couch. Hawke sat down next to her.
"I just wish that job didn't involve mages," Hawke sighed. "Like, I don't know, accounting or something."
"Can you really see Carver doing accounting?" Isabela said with a smirk.
"No, accounting wouldn't get mother's attention nearly as much," Hawke said. Isabela sat up and contemplated Hawke for a second.
"You know what? We both need a drink. We're going to the Hanged Man, now," Isabela said, pulling Hawke up from the couch. "Besides, Varric wants to talk to you."
Hawke wasn't about to argue. She really could use a drink. Together, they left the apartment and walked the block to the Hanged Man. It was a seedy little bar with a neon sign that barely worked- it always seemed to spell "Hngd Ma", no matter how much Varric paid to fix it- and the regulars were often just as grubby as the inside of the bar. Including Hawke and her friends, of course. But it had become like a second home to Hawke ever since Varric had stopped that guy from pickpocketing her on her way home.
They opened the door to a blast of cold air and bad 80's music. Hawke's eyes immediately went to the bar- and the mysterious elf sitting at it. No way, she thought. Why would he be here?
Isabela saw where her eyes went. Her eyebrows shot up.
"Ooh, who's this?" Isabela asked. "Someone you know? Or someone you want to know? I might call dibs if you don't."
"I wouldn't recommend it," Varric said drily from a table nearby. "Good to see you two. Hawke, I have some good news."
"This better be a good job," Hawke said as they sat down at his table. "The last one you sent me on was a nightmare."
"How was I supposed to know that guy was just looking for a sugar baby?"
"I would have gone for it," Isabela interjected.
"We know, Rivaini. Anyway, no, it's not like last time. Bartrand might have a job for you," Varric said.
"Might?" Hawke asked, eyebrow arched.
"You do art in your free time, right? Bartrand's looking for a new designer at the family business."
Hawke still wasn't sure exactly what Varric's family was in the business of, but she felt that it was best not to question it too closely.
"What's the catch?" she asked with a smile.
"You have to submit a portfolio to him by the end of next week."
Hawke groaned. "Well, that would be fantastic if I had anything I could submit. I'll be up for ages trying to finish a portfolio. I'll have eyebags like Anders by the end of the week."
"I think the dark circles make him look distinguished," Isabela said.
"Sorry about your brother, by the way," Varric said. "Aveline told me earlier today."
"Aveline told you before I found out?" Hawke said.
"She's the police captain," he said, hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Carver went to her to see about getting recruited for the templars."
"Maker, I'm going to kill Aveline," Hawke said with a sigh. A waitress passed by and Isabela flagged her down.
"A round of shots for the table," she said.
"I'm at work, Rivaini. I can't do shots," Varric said.
"I'll do one for you," Hawke said. She kept stealing glances at the elf- Fenris- sitting at the bar, and once she thought she caught him looking back at her.
Fenris was taken aback when he saw Hawke walk in the bar. Especially considering she was walking in with a dark-skinned woman he had seen around his apartment complex before. He briefly considered walking up to her and her friends, but thought better of it. Better not to put down any roots here, he thought. I am only here temporarily. Better to spend his paycheck drinking himself into oblivion and then walk home, daring anyone around to try to mug him. Then wake up late, head to the shelter for the afternoon-evening shift, rinse and repeat.
He glanced over at Hawke. She seemed to be telling a very animated story that had the other woman laughing loudly. Both seemed to be pretty inebriated. Of course, so was he, but maybe he should accompany them home. He lived in the same building, after all.
It was then that there was a brief shriek followed by a loud crashing noise. He was up immediately, his instincts preparing him for a fight, when he heard loud laughter coming from Hawke's table. The woman she was with had tipped her stool over and fallen and seemed mostly uninjured, judging by the way she was snickering. He shook his head and got up to use the bathroom, passing by Hawke helping her friend up. They made brief eye contact but didn't acknowledge each other. The Hanged Man only had two unisex stalls for bathrooms, so he went in one and closed the door. Unsurprisingly, he heard Hawke and her friend, still giggling and helping each other walk, go into the other stall. Were they together? Don't be disappointed, he chided himself.
"Shhh, Isabela, let me fix this cut real quick," Hawke said. "You won't even know it was there."
"And then, more shots!" the other woman- Isabela?- said loudly. They giggled some more. Then, the unmistakable smell of lyrium flooded his nose, and a bright light shone under the stall door. Then it was done as quick as it happened.
His heart was pounding in his ears. The smell of lyrium made him think of- No, he thought, keep it together. Not here. Had she just used healing magic? In a crowded bar? Was she asking for the templars to find her?
Fenris shuddered from that irrepressible smell of magic and quickly composed himself. He left the stall and washed his hands, looking around to see if there was anyone else who had seen Hawke use magic. Nobody was around the bathroom, probably due to its overall griminess; nobody seemed to be surprised or show any inkling of a clue about what just happened.
Hawke and Isabela came out of the stall, still giggling and leaning on each other. Then they saw Fenris and stopped suddenly. Fenris quickly walked out of the bathroom, unsure what to do. Should he call the templars? She had done magic in public; it seemed the right thing to do. But then, she had just used healing magic on her friend in the confines of a bathroom.
Magic, overall, is to be distrusted, he reminded himself, shuddering again. He paid his tab and left in a hurry, resolving to decide on a course of action after he had sobered up the next morning.
Even as drunk as Hawke was, she knew that had been a bad idea. And Maker, Fenris had probably seen her do it, too. She sobered up quickly thinking about all the possibilities. And she had a templar for a brother now. I'm so screwed, she thought, pulling her hands through her short hair. He's going to turn me in. Maker's breath, I've gotten myself in way too deep this time.