He certainly wasn't hard to keep track of, this Fenris, mused Hawke to herself. Though his movements were silent, he gleamed like a beacon against the stormy night skies. They met minimal opposition, a few guardsman pretenders, and quickly cleaved through them to arrive at the mansion.

"This is the place?" Hawke asked, scanning the exterior for any alternative exits.

"Yes. Be wary. I'm sure the magister has many unpleasant traps set for us."

"It just so happens that traps are Varric's specialty," she said with a crooked grin.

"ONE mishap with a bear trap and suddenly I have to be the expert here," groused Varric, stretching to elbow Hawke in the ribs. "All right, hero and co," he sighed. "After me."

Fenris was not wrong. They encountered several nasty release traps that Varric easily disabled, Bianca in one hand and a switchblade in the other.

"Just once, I'd like a challenge."

"Maker above, Varric, don't jinx us," said Aveline, rubbing her forehead with a weary hand.

"Wait. Do you feel that?" murmured Hawke uneasily.

"Shades. Get ready for a fight," warned Anders, as he took his staff out of its sling and cast a barrier.

At this, Hawke glanced at Fenris, who now looked more irritated than Anders on a bad day.

"It's all right," she said, moving to place a hand on his shoulder. "This is old hat for us."

Fenris jerked away from her extended hand like it could burn him. Hawke flushed, embarrassed, but there was little time for awkwardness-they were surrounded by shades, the air in the room blackened and swirling.

Aveline took point, standing in front of the others, both sword and shield held aloft. Hawke was close behind, ignoring the longbow on her back and whipping out her daggers from their hidden sheaths. Anders stood in the relative middle, casting barriers and healing as needed (and lashing out with fireballs when necessary), and, finally, Varric covered the exit, calling down a hail of arrows with Bianca. Or perhaps Bianca did it herself.

Hawke half expected Fenris to hang back-he had seemed pretty spooked (the shades?)-but as she lodged her blades in the eye of a shade, a white-blue blur threw another from her side. He was an excellent fighter, fast even with a greatsword, and he cleared a path for her to dash in and debilitate the creatures he had stunned. She had to stop herself from watching in wonder (how could any man move so quickly?) and, slowed by her distraction, had to dig her daggers into an oncoming shade's back and vault herself over it to avoid being flattened.

With a boastful hum, Varric sank an arrow in the last shade's skull, and the party attempted to catch their breath. Hawke put up her blades and wiped off her brow.

"Is everyone all right?" she huffed, trying not to look at Fenris.

They grunted in confirmation, and she examined the door blocking their path. Locked. Not a problem. She fished around in her braid for a pick and rake, squatted, and began working, ear to the door.

Mages. It always had to be mages.

And this Anders was no ordinary mage, Fenris was sure. There was something unnatural about the sheen to his eyes, the look on his face as he casted, the unusual rasp to his voice-

"Got it," Hawke smirked, returning her tools to their hiding spot. She stood up and stretched like a cat, spine crackling. He realized he was staring at her when she glanced up at him and turned pink. He abruptly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It doesn't sound like there are shades in there, I think I hear human voices," whispered Aveline. Danarius, he thought, and charged into the room, the others forgotten. The guardsman (guardswoman? guard?) was right, the hall was packed with slavers. He saw no sign of Danarius, or any mages, for that matter, but one door still remained. He narrowed his eyes, markings at full power, and sprinted into the fray, sensing Aveline and Hawke at his heels.

"Maker take you!" bellowed the former, as the latter slit the throat of an unlucky assailant. Fenris felt the hum of magic behind him, and it fueled his rage as he hacked apart the slavers, not caring for finesse. An exploding arrow cleared the few that remained. He was out of patience, and he ran for the final door, kicking it open to reveal…

Nothing.

"Gone."

Hawke hurried in after Fenris, only to find a room full of treasure. Varric was ecstatic. She began to address the elf, but thought better of it.

"Take what you will, it is yours. I...need some air," he muttered, stalking out the door.

They had made out quite nicely, with some new padding for Anders's robes, a rather ridiculous belt for Varric, a finer sword for Aveline, and no small abundance of useless junk.

"Junk is the best part," said Varric, gleefully. "This is going to get us that much closer to the expedition. I can't wait to see what the merchants will give us for these," he beamed, holding up what appeared to be a pair of smallclothes made with gold thread. Hawke snorted and left the others to their gathering, skirting past the occasional disembodied limb.

Eventually, they all made their way out, packs filled with loot. They exited the manor to find Fenris glowering near the entrance, gauntleted arms crossed tightly.

"So you harbor a viper in your midst," he spat.

Hawke began to speak, confused, but he interrupted her.

"A mage within your ranks. I was a fool not to notice earlier. And I suspect he is more than a mage, no?" he said, glittering eyes fixed on Anders.

There was a brief silence as Hawke searched for the best words to say.

"He's an abomination," said Aveline.

Varric put his face in his hands, Hawke coughed, and Anders admitted, "she's not wrong."

"Do you realize the danger that you're in? Mages just can't say no, they can't stop themselves from doing anything for more power. He will be your ruin," Fenris barked, rounding on Hawke.

Her eyes narrowed. "Abomination though he may be, I wouldn't be alive without Anders. He's healed me countless times. And, were I not here, you would lack the help you sought," she said calmly, maintaining eye contact.

Fenris loosened at this. He was silent for a moment, then threw a purse to Hawke.

"This is yours. You have my thanks, and...you may call on me if you find yourself in need. I don't think I'll be leaving Kirkwall quite yet."

She considered this.

"Will you work with mages?"

He glanced toward Anders, then returned to her impassive face.

"I will. But I will be watching."

She cocked her head, then gave him something of a smile.

"Very well, Fenris. I expect we'll be seeing each other soon."

As she walked away, she tossed the purse over her shoulder, and he caught it, puzzled. He gave her a questioning look, and she called, "I don't take money from my companions."

At this, Varric whacked her with his bag of treasure, claiming this was a new policy of hers.

She thought she might've heard a low chuckle, and dared a final look back, but Fenris was nowhere to be seen.