Hawke woke up on Isabela's couch with a groan and facepalmed. I'm such an idiot when I'm drunk, she thought. Well, I'm an idiot all the time. I'm just especially an idiot when I'm drunk. She couldn't believe she had used magic in a public place like that and with that elf Fenris in the next stall over! I might as well have served myself up to the templars on a silver platter, she thought. On top of that, she had a pounding headache building.
Isabela was still fast asleep in the other room, snoring away without a care in the world. Her roommate, a graduate student named Merrill, was already up and making tea.
"Hello Hawke!" Merrill said cheerfully. "Would you like something for breakfast or some tea?"
The thought of breakfast food made Hawke's stomach turn.
"No thank you, I feel like I've been hit by a steamroller at the moment," Hawke said.
"Oh, that's not good," Merrill said. "Do you need some medicine or anything?"
"Not unless you have something that can cure a hangover." Hawke got up and pushed off the flimsy blanket she had been sleeping under. She had several missed calls from her mother. And the day was starting off so well, she thought wryly.
She walked outside the apartment and dialed her mother, who picked up on the first ring.
"Victoria! Where are you?"
"I told you, mum, I stayed at Isabela's."
"It was incredibly immature of you to go running out like that, and you've upset your brother! Now he's trying to move out."
"Good, I'd love my own room."
"Victoria, this is hardly the time for sarcasm."
"I wasn't kidding. Let the kid move out, mum, he's an adult with a job now." There was a long pause at the other end of the line.
"This wouldn't have happened if Bethany was here."
"Three grown siblings sharing a room would have been a little cramped."
"Maker's breath. Just come home soon." And a click followed as her mother hung up. Hawke sighed. Another day in paradise. She went back into Isabela's apartment, brushed her teeth, and left with her overnight bag before Isabela could wake up. It was time to get some work done, and by "get work done," she meant driving strangers around the city for a meager hourly pay plus tips.
She ducked into her car and pulled up the rideshare app she drove with. It looked like someone from the same complex was looking for a ride. Convenient, she thought, accepting the ride. She regretted it as soon as she saw who it was for, that white-haired elf with the strange tattoos. He came loping down the stairs, phone in hand. Of all people, of course it would be him, she thought. After all, she had no way of knowing he hadn't turned her in to the templars already.
He seemed shocked to see her driving and recoiled from the car, hand on the door. Still, he climbed into the backseat, looking uncomfortable.
"Fenris, right?" Hawke said, determined to keep the conversation light. "I've been seeing you everywhere, lately." He simply nodded. She started up the car and began driving to his destination. Was she sweating? Could he tell how nervous she was?
"So how did you start working at the shelter?" she asked.
"That is a long story," he said, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "I was… new in town, and Lirene took pity on me, I suppose."
"Where are you from originally?" she asked.
"Tevinter," he said. He seemed to grow even more uncomfortable at this line of questioning. She dropped it, not wanting to earn herself a bad rating. Maybe he didn't see anything, she thought.
"So… ah… when we ran into you in the bathroom last night…" she began, internally cursing herself. Why am I even bringing it up? She thought. "Did you, ah, notice anything?"
"Notice anything?" he said, avoiding meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror now.
"Anything… unusual?"
"No," he said, his mouth twisting into a grimace. "I saw nothing."
They lapsed into silence, ignoring each other for the rest of the ride. When Hawke reached the shelter, he started to get out of the car, looking relieved. He stopped for a second, poised with the door open.
"You should know…" he began, then shook his head as if trying to think of the right words. "Magic is dangerous, Hawke. I will not turn you in, but someone else might not do the same."
She still had a pounding headache, but her mind flooded with relief. She nodded.
"Thank you," she said. He met her eyes in the rearview mirror for a brief minute before getting out of the car and walking up to the shelter's entrance. Hawke sighed and leaned her head back on the headrest. Time to get back to work, she reminded herself. Gamlen's gambling habit won't pay for itself.
She tapped the rideshare app and accepted her next ride. As she drove people around that day, she couldn't help but think about what Fenris said. Did he mean it when he said he wouldn't turn her in? He seemed like an honest guy, from what Hawke could tell; he worked at a refugee shelter, for the Maker's sake. She wanted to trust him. But his words, that magic is dangerous, and his evasiveness when she asked about his past stuck in her head. He seemed like he had some dark past that he wasn't keen on sharing. Exactly my type, Hawke thought with a wry smile. She wanted to find out more, and she knew she'd be back volunteering at the shelter soon.
Feeling confused, Fenris walked up to the shelter's entrance. The shelter was a nice building for the area, painted in a sunny yellow color with a small garden in the front yard. Its cheery aesthetic couldn't distract him from his troubling thoughts, however. All he could think about as he walked into the building and clocked in was the mage, Hawke. He had promised her he wouldn't turn her in, and he intended to keep that promise. Still… he couldn't help but wonder whether he was making the right choice.
As soon as he settled in, Lirene called him into her office. Her tone suggested something was wrong. He walked in with a sense of foreboding.
As always, she spoke plainly. "The shelter is losing funding soon," Lirene said. "Our grant application this year wasn't renewed. We need to raise money, and fast."
"Fundraising is not my specialty," Fenris said. "I would like to help, though."
Lirene massaged her temples and sighed. "We'll have to make a massive effort to raise enough to support all of our current residents, not to mention new ones. Maker help me, but I'll have to schmooze all the rich Kirkwallers I can."
"What can I do?" Fenris asked.
"Nothing right now. We'll need plenty of volunteers, so maybe start putting some ads out. Actually," she said with another sigh, "our ad campaign is pretty out-of-date. We'll need a volunteer with some design experience to draw us up a new one." She rifled through some papers before grabbing one. "There!" she said. "I knew one of the volunteers marked down that they had design experience!" She handed the application to Fenris. "Call her and see if she's willing to do some design work for free," Lirene said. "I mean, don't put it that way, but that's essentially what we need."
He looked down at the name on the paper and almost groaned. Of course, it was Hawke.
Hawke was in between riders when her phone rang. An unknown number. She almost declined it, but then decided to pick up on the fourth ring.
"Hello, Hawke speaking," she said.
"Hawke? This is Fenris from the shelter." Her heart almost jumped into her throat. Why was he calling her? Was this a weird ploy for him to say, ha-ha, sorry, I called the templars on you?
"You have design experience, correct?" he asked.
"Um… yes?" Hawke said.
"The shelter needs someone to design an ad campaign." He paused. "It is unpaid."
Well, she needed to expand her portfolio anyway. "Sure," she said. "I'd love to."
"Can you come by the shelter later today to talk to Lirene?"
"I can head there now," she said, shifting her car out of park.
Fenris watched Hawke work in the next room, at the long table they used for dinners with the residents. She had her laptop open and her brow was furrowed. She looked intently at her work, occasionally mumbling to herself. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had gotten raucously drunk the night before and the same woman who had used magic in a public place.
He had to admit, she looked more beautiful while she was working; she had this intensity that he admired. Not that he intended to act on those feelings, of course. Do not put down any roots here, he reminded himself. He got up to get his lunch from the kitchen when a thought struck him.
"Hawke, have you eaten yet?" he asked.
She looked up, surprised at the question. "No, I haven't," she admitted. "Is there any fast food places nearby?"
"No, the nearest food is out of walking distance," he said. "You can share my lunch, if you like. I brought sandwiches." Usually he ate two for lunch, but today he could make an exception.
"Oh no, I can't take your food," Hawke protested.
"It is no trouble," Fenris said. He got up and walked to the kitchen, wondering to himself why he was offering to share his lunch with this woman. He grabbed his lunch bag and walked into the room where Hawke was working and passed her one of his sandwiches. Her eyebrows shot up.
"Thank you," she said, surprised. "For everything, I mean."
He shook his head. "I do not mind." And for once, he found that he didn't.
"You know, you should come by the Hanged Man and hang out with my friends and I sometime," Hawke said, biting into the sandwich. She talked as she chewed. "Varric and Isabela would like you. Isabela might like you a little too much, if you catch my drift."
"Isabela… that is the woman you were with last night?" he asked. "So you two are not…"
"Oh, Maker, you thought we were dating?" Hawke said with a laugh. "No, not at all! I mean, I love Isabela, but only in a semi-homo way."
Fenris found himself chuckling. He wanted to know more about Hawke and her friends.
"You asked earlier where I'm from," he said. "So, are you from Kirkwall?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Fereldan for life. I miss the dirt and the dog smells."
"Do you really?" he asked.
"No," she said with a laugh. "I get plenty of dog smells at home thanks to my mabari." She finished the sandwich and brushed the crumbs off of the table. "Well, I should get back to work," she said. "Time waits for no man. Or woman. Look, we'll probably be at the Hanged Man tonight if you want to stop by."
Fenris found himself nodding. "I would like that," he admitted. She smiled at him, a broad grin that lit up her face.
"Great! I'll make sure to tell Isabela not to hit on you too much. Don't want to scare you away," she joked. "Unless you're into that!"
He laughed again. It felt good to be laughing for once. Hawke smiled back and returned to her work, brow knitted again. Fenris got up and returned to his station at the front desk.
That night, he walked to the Hanged Man with trepidation. He didn't know what Hawke and her friends were like, whether they all had the personalities as big as hers. He opened the bar door, resolving to himself that he would leave if it was too awkward, but he was immediately greeted with a shout from Hawke.
"Hey, it's my new best friend! Come sit down!"
She was hanging out with a dwarf who was showing off his hirsute chest and the woman from last night who was wearing what could barely be described as clothing. They looked an odd bunch, but Fenris joined them anyway. He looked as odd as any of them, he supposed.
"Guys, this is the guy from the shelter I was talking about! Meet Fenris," Hawke said, grinning broadly.
"Ooh, hello Fenris," the alluring woman said, looking him up and down.
"This is Varric and this is Isabela," Hawke said, gesturing to them. "Varric owns the bar, and Isabela works here. Sometimes."
"I get paid to make drinks and have men hit on me," Isabela said. "It's the dream."
"So, Fenris, what's your drink? Your first one's on me," Varric said.
"What? You never buy my drinks," Hawke protested.
"This is his first time here," Varric said. "We don't want to scare him off."
"This place smells of vomit and desperation," Fenris said. "I imagine that would scare anyone off."
"And it's only five in the afternoon!" Hawke said. "That's a new record, Varric."
"I do my best," Varric said. "Got to keep the ambiance right."
"I will take you up on that free drink," Fenris said. "A red wine, please."
"Classy," Isabela said. "I like my men with a bit of sophistication." Hawke snorted.
"No you don't," Hawke said at the same time Varric said "Since when?" Fenris smirked. Varric went behind the bar to grab their drinks.
"Anyway, I'm designing an ad campaign for the shelter now," Hawke said, seemingly continuing a previous conversation. "So as you can see, they've gotten truly desperate."
"Don't put yourself down, Hawke," Isabela said. "You do good work."
"I have seen what you've worked on so far," Fenris said. "It is very good." Hawke smiled at him then in a way that made his chest constrict. (Just add here a sentence saying their conversations continued with sharing daily news, joking, stories, etc. Or maybe end it with Varric saying something like, "So Fenris, has Hawke shared to you the story of how she…")
There was something oddly endearing about Hawke's friends. They seemed so open and all of them had very vivid personalities (to put it nicely). He ended up returning to the bar the next night, and the night after that. Every day he would chide himself for starting to put down roots in Kirkwall, but every night he would find himself gravitating back towards the Hanged Man.
Hawke rode home from the bar in the back of an Uber one night, starting to sober up and just wanting to go to bed without drama from Carver. She went up the stairs to their apartment, leaning heavily on the railing, as the stairs were swimming in her eyes.
Finally, she staggered up to the apartment and opened the door to Leandra and Gamlen arguing. "I mean really, Gamlen, again? You just got paid and you've already spent it?" Leandra said. "You couldn't have bought groceries or something first?"
"I don't see how it's any of your business," Gamlen said. Hawke walked right past them and they barely registered her. She continued on up the next set of stairs, still reeling from her buzz. She finally made it to her room and flopped onto the twin bed.
"Gone out drinking again, have you?" Carver asked from the opposite twin bed.
"Stayed home again, have you?" Hawke said.
"What am I supposed to do, go out with you and your hoodrat friends? All of you have a drinking problem and way too much time on your hands."
"I'll concede the drinking problem," Hawke said, "but I regret to inform you that I do not have too much time on my hands. I work all the time."
"Driving people around barely counts," Carver said.
"Oh, like being a templar is much better?" Hawke said, the ceiling spinning.
"It's a steady career doing something good," Carver said, clearly very proud of himself.
"Doing good? Oppressing mages is doing good?" Hawke said, starting to get angry now.
"It's not oppression. Mages just need supervision to make sure none become abominations."
"You're an abomination," she mumbled. Not my best line, she thought, cringing. "What about all those times Dad used healing magic on you as a kid? He should have been imprisoned for that?"
"Don't use Dad against me," Carver said, almost yelling at this point. Hawke groaned and pulled the pillow over her face, wanting the conversation to be over. Maker, I need to move out as soon as possible, she thought.
She must have fallen asleep, because she woke up the next morning disoriented and hungover. Carver was gone already. Probably at templar training, Hawke thought bitterly. She decided to head to the shelter and continue working on her portfolio, Carver be damned. And maybe while she was there, she could look at cheap rooms for rent in the area. I can't keep living like this, she thought.
Hawke was rather proud of herself. She was putting together a decent portfolio, considering the time restraint. The donation ad campaign for the shelter had led to a few design projects that she was happy with. Hopefully it would be enough for Bartrand. And hopefully, that job would pay enough to eventually help them move out of Lowtown.
Hawke knew the family had owned a nice house once in Hightown, the old-money part of the city, but that seemed out of her reach unless she had some rich uncles she didn't know about. No, the family money had been slowly whittled away by Gamlen for years before they arrived in Kirkwall, unfortunately.
She spent her free hours working at the shelter when she wasn't driving people around or working her second job as a waitress at one of Varric's restaurants. She and Fenris had begun talking more often than not while she was at the shelter; it slowed down her work, but it was nice to have a friend at the shelter. He had started coming to the Hanged Man most nights, too, which surprised her. He seemed more like a lone-wolf kind of guy at first. She appreciated his company, as he had a dry sense of humor that occasionally came out, and he frequently lost to her at cards. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes.
And then, one night, it was just them. Isabela was on a date, and Varric, Aveline, and Anders were swamped with work. They sat at their usual table, things a little tense as they grappled for something to talk about.
"So how are things at the shelter?" Hawke asked, downing a shot.
"Aside from the funding and possible loss of my job," he said drily, "things are good."
"I should come by and volunteer more often," Hawke said.
"You might put me out of a job if you come by too often," Fenris said with a wry smile. "Making rent is difficult enough as it is."
"Speaking of, Maker knows I need to move out and find my own place. My family is doing their best to make me want to tear my hair out," Hawke said. "But all the good apartments are married or gay." He chuckled.
"How are things with your brother?" Fenris asked.
"Not good," Hawke said. "We still share a room for now, which is tense, for obvious reasons. My mother still won't speak to me. I've considered permanently crashing on Isabela's couch, but I'm not sure I can handle what goes on in that apartment."
"You know, come to think of it…I could use a roommate," Fenris said. Was he really offering to share an apartment with Hawke? Was that even wise? "Temporarily, of course," he added hastily. Well, he did need help with rent, and Hawke needed a place to stay.
"Of course," Hawke repeated, thinking about the offer. It was tempting, she had to admit. She imagined Fenris was probably a good roommate. And not sharing a room with her brother anymore sounded amazing.
"I think I'll take you up on that offer," Hawke said. "You live in Isabela's complex, right?"
"Right," he said.
They lapsed into silence for a moment. Hawke, warmed by the alcohol, resolved to ask Fenris about his past. Now they were going to be roommates, right?
"So…" she started. "How did you get those tattoos?"
"It was not willingly," he said, point-blank. Maybe he was feeling the alcohol too. "Where I came from, Tevinter…" He hesitated. "I was a slave," he said in a low voice.
"Oh," Hawke said, for once speechless. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Fenris said. "It was not your fault. Besides, I escaped that life."
"Is that how you ended up working for the shelter?" she asked. He nodded and downed another shot.
"I was caught by some police squatting in an abandoned house that belonged to my master. They took pity on me, or I intimidated them, and they referred me to the shelter where I met Lirene."
"And she offered you a job?"
"Not quite," he said with a smile. "They needed volunteers to man the front desk, so I did, and then eventually Lirene decided to start paying me. It was the only work I could find."
"So you escaped?" she asked, curious. "Are you still in danger?"
"Yes," he said. "My former master is likely hunting for me."
"Well, he'd have to go through me first," she said with a broad grin. The declaration made Fenris chuckle.
"I suppose he'd find a formidable foe indeed," he said. "Judging by how those children managed to take you down so easily the other day."
"I'm a vaudeville comedian at heart," she said with a smile. "I have a soft spot for people smaller than me. Of which there aren't many."
It was true, she was short, even smaller than Fenris. Fenris chuckled again.
"So the tattoos," she asked, still curious, "why do they glow?"
"They are lyrium," he said. "It was quite expensive for my mas… Danarius to procure. I was an investment," he said wryly.
"Well, they look good," Hawke said. Maker, she was definitely feeling the alcohol. Fenris smiled.
"I'm glad to see they still have some use," he said.
"So are you serious? Do you want to be roommates?" she asked.
"I have an extra room, and I could use the help with rent," he said. "I would not mind. I don't know how long I will stay in Kirkwall, though."
"You might be leaving?" Hawke asked, feeling slightly disappointed.
"Danarius could try and find me at any minute," he said. "It would be… unwise to stay in one place for too long."
"Or you could stay and tell him to go screw himself," Hawke said. "Not literally, of course. Unless you really want to."
Fenris smiled. "A tempting offer," he said. "So you would like to move in?"
"And get away from my family? Yes, absolutely, at the first possible chance. And no, it's not just the alcohol talking."
"It isn't furnished."
"I'll find a mattress on the side of the road and call it a day." Fenris' mouth quirked up into a smile at Hawke in a way that made her heart melt. Oh Maker, don't tell me I'm catching feelings for my new roommate, she thought.
The moving process was surprisingly easy. Isabela and Varric helped Hawke find the essentials for her new room. and helped her move the few boxes of her possessions from Gamlen's apartment. Where they procured the mattress from, she didn't want to know. Carver was still not speaking to her and ignored them as they went about moving. Leandra fretted about, worrying about her new roommate. "You're moving in with a man? And you barely know him?" and other such motherly concerns.
Hawke drove them to the new apartment with a sense of trepidation. She had lived with her family for her whole life; this would be her first time striking out on her own, as it were. And with a new friend for a roommate. She wasn't sure what to expect.
Isabela knew what she expected. "You're both attractive, why don't you just bang already?" she'd asked, multiple times. Hawke was no stranger to a one-night stand, but she enjoyed the tentative friendship they'd started. She didn't want to ruin anything with sex. Besides, she was pretty sure Fenris didn't see her in that way. She was half-convinced he was gay.
It took less than an hour to move all of her possessions into her new room, supervised by her mabari, Barkspawn. Afterwards, the crew went down to the Hanged Man. Isabela invited her roommate, Merrill, too, but she decided she had too much work to do.
"She's so cute," Isabela later lamented over a fruity drink at their usual table.
"So ask her out, Rivaini," Varric said. Isabela shook her head.
"No, I can't. We're roommates."
"And?" Varric asked. Hawke surreptitiously looked at Fenris to see his reaction. His face was as inscrutable as always as he sipped his wine.
"We can't date because we already live together," Isabela said. "That breaks, like, so many of my rules."
"Your rules?" Hawke asked with an arched eyebrow. Isabela smiled.
"Oh, I'm so glad you asked!" she said. "My rules are to not catch feelings and never move in with a person again."
"Again?" Hawke asked.
"I was married for a couple of years," Isabela said. Hawke almost spit her beer out.
"What? When was this?" she asked, incredulous.
"When I was nineteen," Isabela said. "It was arranged by my mother."
"I find it hard to imagine you married," Fenris said drily.
"Oh, I divorced him two years later and had a passionate affair with the divorce lawyer," she said, downing her drink with a swift motion. "But that's all behind me now. Anyway, as I said, I don't move in with people I date."
"So how's it going at the shelter, Fenris?" Varric asked.
"Not good," Fenris replied. "We will be losing our main grant soon and have to come up with more money. Hawke helped design an online ad campaign to try to get donations, but we still have to come up with money to put the campaign online. Meanwhile, we can't accept any new residents for the moment because we're unsure whether we'll be able to stay open." He gripped his bottle tightly, looking down as he talked so that his companions couldn't see how affected he was by this.
"That's terrible," Isabela sympathized.
"Any ideas for new donors?" Varric asked. Fenris shrugged.
"That is above my pay grade," he said. "I answer phones."
"You do so much more than answer phones," Hawke interjected. "You help do new resident intake and way more. Lirene really relies on you." Fenris smiled at her, and she smiled back.
"Ugh, you two need to just do it already and get it out of your systems," Isabela complained, then ordered another drink. Fenris and Hawke both chuckled, but Hawke could tell her ears were red. Was she that obvious? Not that she was really catching feelings, of course; it was just a mild crush and would pass. So she told herself. Besides, not only were they roommates, he was probably gay. Nothing was going to happen.