THIS CHAPTER IS HUMOR. Mostly. Afterwards there might not be as much.
Skip to 36 if you want romance and wonder.
Skip to 35 if you only want wonder. Skip to 34 if you only want. Skip to 33 if you- You know what, read the damn chapter.
Secret Companion: Forget the tattoo. I know I did XD... however foolishly.
So... disturbing Crow business... Any good story starts with "And then they entered a nest of assassins..." Varric approves 30+
"…And he was heavily…compensating."
Silence. Murderous, dreaded, royally horrifying silence.
The Antivan chuckled softly and leaned over to Hawke, "Should I tell him or should you?"
"What?" Fenris growled angrily.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Varric said calmly.
The utterly bestial scowl on Fenris said he was prepared to compensate in action at any moment for the searing silence that had suddenly shed over the whole courtyard. Although any such form of open assault was foolish and he was not about to get them all killed because of a smug elf with a knack for flirting with death. And yet he was boiling inside, without much awareness of the motive behind it. Perhaps it was instinct, the instinct risen in men when another throws the gauntlet, something only men understood. He also understood that this elf might as well have presented his genitals to Hawke out in the open, for this was the signal he was overly trying to send ever so subtly.
Then there was the obvious matter of how irony worked. You know how one shuts up, and only after he makes a fool out of himself, finally thinks of a good come-back? Well, he wished he had said "And your much talk and no action I should take as not a compensation for your lack of genuine balls?" But no. He was silent.
"Nonsense, my friend. I can smell a man playing dumb from miles away. He is no fool," the Antivan said confidently. "Tell me, my friend, do you wish to compete for points?"
"No need. I have no interest in competing in the little muscle league," Fenris said nonchalantly, still not realizing how it sounded, for he was pertaining simply to his small physique.
The blonde assassin grinned cockily, "It is not the size that matters, it is where you get to put it," he said sharply while raising an eyebrow faintly directed at Hawke. The sound of that sentence made Hawke draw an annoyed scowl, but not nearly as furious as the one on Fenris. It didn't matter anymore why he had been annoyed before, now it seemed the elf was plainly using the only female in the group as means to tease him. And he did not like the sound of that. It made Hawke sound like an object to everyone's disposal. If not for whatever other reason that made him want to shove his fist in this man's heart, at least this was reasonable.
Whatever witty line Hawke was going to say was quickly interrupted by Fenris's determined cold voice, "Before or after it gets cut off?"
"Whoa, whoa, nobody's cutting anyone's anything off," Hawke quickly intervened with a huge frown.
"Oh my dear Hawke to the rescue, a woman after my own heart," the Antivan elf said warmly.
"She is not yours," Fenris snarled in a deep voice, taking another faint step in front of Hawke.
"Oh? Is she yours then?" the elf asked confidently, grinning to no end because he knew this was not a question that was going to be answered.
"I'm not a fan of possessive pronouns," Hawke said assertively, giving Fenris an angry look as she finished. The look on his face was alight with annoyance as well as confusion, but he decided to remain aloof and unperturbed. This was utterly ridiculous.
The incandescent tension was fortunately saved by Armand's return from a window nearby. He leapt forward with a perfectly silent roll-over on the ground and approached them commandingly. "It is done."
"Smooth timing," Varric muttered grumpily.
"This would be the time to illuminate us all," Hawke said mockingly. "Well?"
The elf chuckled, "Yes, so it is." He looked at the dark and quiet palazzo near the courtyard there were in and said, "This is Occhio Del Corvo, or what is left of it. It used to be an Antivan bank, well, to the outside eye at least."
"And?" Hawke pressed.
"And through those corridors lies a passage that leads to one of the hidden prisons of the Crows."
"How in the Void is it then that we haven't gotten ambushed by now?" Varric asked in confusion.
Armand explained coldly, "It is abandoned. Now it is only a garden starting from behind. The old passages in this side of the city are infested with dangerous creatures and heavily booby-trapped. They would not look twice to guard such a place."
"Oh, so we're the ones to do a thorough spring cleaning," Hawke muttered grumpily.
"Indeed, we are the extermination team," the Antivan said in amusement. "As soon as we get through those passages, alive and well if it's not too much to hope for, the fireworks will begin."
"No more riddles please," Hawke pressed in annoyance and eyed the elf straight.
The blond elf nodded coldly. "There are mainly two things we are supposed to do – very swiftly and effectively. First is to free some dozen people rotting inside. There is a very old passage connected to the lot that will lead to an extension of the city sewers. We guide their escape through it, arise and a gondola awaits to lead them to the harbour. Second, get our hands on a few documents of royal importance, but I can take care of that."
"There's always a third," Hawke said perceptively with a grin.
"Oh, there's also a fourth and fifth, but I'm not such a grand idealist. Although, if I get to quickly kill one guild master in particular, I'd say with utmost happiness that this was a fine enough Tuesday."
"I don't understand. Are you trying to cause a scene to provoke them all?" Hawke asked in suspicion.
"But of course. And why not?" the Antivan elf said in delight. "As long as I take the offensive instead of simply killing all the assassins they send after me, I am the wiser, no?"
Such stupidity and utterly idiotic idealism. For all his faint dreams of going straight to Minrathous and somehow slaying his master, even Fenris knew this was no 'battles shared are battles won' situation.
"How is that wise?" Fenris asked angrily. "This is not just one guild master. It is a whole guild you are going after. You would need quite an army to overthrow such a dangerous system."
"Why should I not seize upon an opportunity to dethrone them one by one, because they do, in fact, work separately? No army is necessary for a guild full of people who sleep with a knife under the pillow even against their own wives. I am simply using their own weapon against them."
"While placing everyone else in danger," Fenris retorted coldly.
"I am not forcing anyone to come with me. My friend Armand chose to be on my side, as did your lady. If you are not comfortable with the nature of our business, you are free not to get involved, by all means." The elf paused and looked at Hawke for an answer, "I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give."
Fenris didn't say anything for three seconds, only to finally respond with, "She is not my lady."
Hawke sighed and rolled her eyes, "Seriously? That's all you got from his speech?"
"Semantics are utterly important, Hawke," Varric said in amusement.
The elf chuckled in delight, "Hah, you are quite right. One can misunderstand so much in these situations," he said with the most joyful grin. Subtleties aside, he was right. There were too many mixed signals coming and going from this charming triangle and the assassin was enjoying most of it.
But enough, it was time to choose sides. Hawke looked at Varric and Fenris instinctively and said with a shrug, "I want to do this. It's up to you if you wish to join me." She smiled shortly in reassurance of her respect for at least some boundaries. "No hard feelings."
"Like I said, Bianca and I are good to go," Varric said assertively and nodded at Hawke.
Hawke smirked warmly at him, however shortly, for her face swiftly died in coldness as she turned to Fenris for his answer. Her eyes shed no glimpse of command or plea in them. He returned her look with hesitant eyes and masked concern, looking at the ground as if to examine the newly noticed tiles on the floor. Then his eyes rose and grew dark and determined, followed by a chivalrous nod directed at her. "I remain at your side."
"Phew, I thought I had to beg," Hawke said sarcastically with a warm smile.
"I must confess, I have met few people such as you who would offer their help without sought for their own personal gain," the blonde elf said knightly. "Unless there is a catch. Most times it is so, 'tis true."
Hawke's face fiercely drew a small, contained scowl enough to unsettle everyone, to which the Antivan quickly corrected himself, "Of course I do not mean to insult you. You have my gratitude."
"As you do mine," Armand said sharply, but a hint of truthful warmth came alight in his tired eyes. This short insightful look of this bone-hard austere man quickly directed at Fenris and turned into a gazing approval look. You've got a good one, don't let her go, his eyes said to him, to which Fenris only faintly nodded with his eyelids, trying to contain whatever smile was coming forth. "Come, we must hurry."
Inside the Abandoned Building
Apparently, to be perfectly sure, they had to climb up on the roof and slide down through a crack. It wasn't long before they entered the main abandoned hall, which absolutely reeked and whispered death. In such heavy silence, they went through a narrow door; and then, in a hollow stone passage in which they could hear their own breath in the wind, they crept along the wall until their shadow leapt out in a new faintly shimmering light. Armand and his friend stopped and looked at one another, their whispers like the rustling of dry leaves.
"What is it?" Hawke asked quietly as she drew near them, afraid suddenly this exhilaration in her would die.
They saw again that nightmare landscape which only ever so politely told them to back the hell away if they valued their own lives. Hawke felt the chill of loneliness, the chill of guilt.
"He's there," Armand said sharply. "Your soon to be wounded one."
"I've always loved the smell of near death," the Antivan said confidently and drew out his daggers.
In the breath of a second, the two disappeared and as Hawke looked behind, Varric did as well. For all intended purposes, rogues would always be rogues. And effective ones. Hawke and Fenris drew out the swords from their sheaths, ignoring the feeling inside that they were idiots, and caught up quickly from behind. The room was filled with poisoned gas and whatever bodies once breathed inside were no longer living now.
"Braska," the Antivan elf said childishly. "You are getting old, Amadeo, because your eyesight cruelly sucks balls."
"I am not good with faces, but he had a rather distinctive butt," Armand said while appearing very serious, to which everybody froze in complete confusion.
The elf surprisingly chuckled, "Oh you always did crack me up, Amadeo. Alas, we are still rid of one asshole, regardless."
"That was a jest? Shit, what happened to good old knock knock jokes?" Hawke asked awkwardly while following them through yet another passage.
"One requires a particular fine taste to understand Amadeo's humour," the elf said joyfully. "It's the kind you never see coming."
"So kind of like surprise butt-sex," Hawke said in amusement, to which Armand gave her a short but murderous enough look for her to back off.
"Careful, my dear, you never know when it will be your turn," the Antivan grinned confidently.
"You know me, I disavow any other way of being sodomized," Hawke said sarcastically.
"Well, that could be arranged, no?" the Antivan said playfully.
Careful 'dear', before you get sodomized by a sword, Fenris thought angrily while walking behind the elf. He was getting on his nerves more quickly than the abomination ever managed to.
"So that's your way with the ladies? You take some ice, step on it and then say 'Well now that I broke the ice, let's do the snake and cave dance'?" Hawke asked in amusement.
"That did work on several occasions," the elf chuckled joyfully. "Now why do you look at me that way? What can a man do, when it seems more indirect ways like flattery do not work at all in his favour?" the Antivan said while chuckling confidently.
"He could give up," Hawke said grumpily and rolled her eyes.
"Now you're just making it more challenging. I see what you are doing there, my dear," the Antivan said with a grin.
Back off, was what she would have wanted to say, but she knew a fine stratagem when she saw one. The elf was masterfully deflecting from drawing attention to his identity by pointless flirtations he knew would not truthfully lead anywhere. She had to keep playing his game until she found a weak link. "Truly? I thought my cover was well hidden," she simply said nonchalantly. Little did she pay attention from behind, to the impeding surprise of a certain other elf ticking like a time bomb and soon about to burst.
They returned to silence and moved quickly along the spiral stairs through the next dark passage. 'Adonis' pressed to go up, rather than down, and the cracks, in this obviously new building they arrived in through all those hidden corridors, let the faint moonlight creep in over their heads. The sky was a pale violet now that the clouds were gone, the stars small and faint, the air around them sultry and fragrant even as they distanced themselves from the small opening.
Next came a precipice made so because most of the existing stairs had collapsed and landed somewhere far down. The sea of pitch-black they saw as they leaned to gaze down all but showed their contour. It was time for a bit of quick thinking. And jumping. They managed, of course, these were two assassins used to harsh situations and stunning acrobatics, Fenris himself who hadn't exactly lived in a picnic during his long escape…and then there was Hawke who was always eager to flirt with death and give him a stroke as she walked sideways on a narrow edge with her back brushing against the walls and pretending she was about to fall. Or jumping suddenly, wall running because she lost patience to follow in her fellow elves' footsteps, hanging on to narrow edges and letting go to disappear down in the dark. Maker she was crazy.
And then there was Varric, who was pissing his pants despite his eagerness to participate in the Cirque du so Gay jumping experiment. Having legs much shorter and less flexible than the rest of them, they had to wait for him, hold on to him or catch him when he jumped last. He had never felt so alive, he said. Well, at least Varric knew how to look on the bright side, whereas Fenris was currently battling an aneurism as Hawke kept disappearing from sight, using her swords as climbing tools, as if jumping childishly into the darkness wasn't enough.
There were some very small cracks in the high walls they were climbing down, although not enough to always spot her landings. The shadows still pressed in from all sides, and just when Hawke leapt forward to grab onto a ledge, her hand stumbled and she slipped down while cursing Bloody shiet.
"Hawke!" Fenris screamed loudly as he rapidly jumped away from the wall to descend upon the darkness that swallowed her down the opposing wall.
"Hawke, are you okay?" Varric also shouted with no more care for being sneaky and shrouded in shadows.
"I'm alright- ight- ight...!" her voice echoed from somewhere, followed by a harrowing silence which disturbed Fenris and quickened his moves almost preternaturally. "… It smells in here...ere...ere."
Fenris descended through the interlocking metal circles hanging from the wall and quickly let go when he heard her last sentence resound much closer. He landed on a large stone floor with no Hawke in sight in whichever directions his eyes roamed agitatedly. He would have screamed again after her with no care for whatever enemy force he would give out their position to, but his ear suddenly twitched as he slowly looked above to see a blue-coated body shouting Maker's balls and falling, as a few pieces of wood broke in half above his head.
He stopped her fall right in time as he caught her in his arms. Her eyes were widened and her face was pale behind the waterfall of hair covering it. She smiled crookedly in silence to balance out the bestial scowl that painted Fenris and his fiercely pumping vein on his forehead. "Oops?" she said innocently. Fenris's eyes grew much darker and calmer and just when she thought everything was fine, he dropped her undauntedly like a dead weasel and she landed with a bang on the floor.
"Was that really necessary?" she asked in annoyance as she tried to get up, rubbing her back in pain while Fenris walked away nonchalantly.
"I don't know, was it?" Fenris said with complete lack of emotion, brushing dust off of his shoulder as if she wasn't even there anymore.
"My guess is on yes?" Hawke asked innocently and chuckled, as she came beside him and looked up to see the rogues landing swiftly and quietly on the floor, unlike them.
"Next time I won't even bother to catch you," Fenris said coldly.
"Tough love," Hawke said mockingly with a raised eyebrow. "Well, what can you do."
"You can cease with the reckless clown act," Fenris uttered viciously while eyeing her with disapproval.
Hawke's eyebrow arched to the skies and the corner of her lips curled into a contemptuous, unimpressed sneer as she looked at Fenris and then calmly said, "I could be more considerate, 'tis true, but then I'd pass up as overly vigilant and annoyingly prudent and that spot in the group has already been filled by you, oh mightly Calenhad." Then she turned her back on him nonchalantly and looked at her hands. "On a totally unrelated note, your zipper is open."
A few passages and dead assassins later…
"So…" Hawke started as she approached 'Adonis' in yet another dark and lonely hallway.
"Yeeeees?" he responded playfully, tilting his head towards her.
"How long have you been wondering this city?" she asked calmly.
The elf raised an eyebrow and said confidently, "What kind of question is that? My whole life of course."
"I mean now and after you left the order." She grinned fiendishly. "It's near implausible that you remained in the city."
The elf sneered only shortly and resumed with joyfully deflective smile, "Oh, that. Not too long, no."
Hawke narrowed her eyes and remained unyielding. "So where have you been this whole time?"
"Oh, so many questions. What are you, my wife? I haven't even bedded you yet," the Antivan snarled in annoyance.
"Well…" Hawke said awkwardly, to which Fenris's elven ear twitched almost as if it had been electrically shocked. "That depends. Is it even possible to be a candidate for such a position?"
"Performing a survey, Hawke?" Fenris asked grumpily from behind.
The elf laughed softly, "It seems you already have a candidate on your own end and I would hate to stand between that."
Hawke smirked confidently, "I'm a strong believer in marriage and its lies. So how about we get past this charade and straight to the point. What do you say?"
"And what would that point be?" the Antivan and Fenris asked at the same time.
"Take your time. They're obviously expecting different answers," Varric said from behind.
Hawke looked strangely at Fenris and appeared to quickly decide to ignore him. She looked back at the elf and only got to say, "My point is –" before a whole wall next to them collapsed to the ground, at which point she felt two gauntlets grabbing her in a swift motion and shoving her from left to right only to bump her head in a wall and fall heavily on her side.
It turned out both elves got a hold of her and shoved her into different directions, to which Varric shouted, "ALRIGHT. WILL YOU PLEASE DECIDE WHO GETS THE GIRL ALREADY? It's kinda bad for her health and there's no Anders here to save the day."
The blonde elf quickly turned his curious look to Varric as if he recognized the name. It was a short expression, but enough to be caught by the redheaded human lie detector. Meanwhile, Hawke got up coughing and brushed the dust off her shoulder. "When two cocks fight, the third swoops in suavely and wins." Then she winked at Varric, "So, what are you doing later?"
"Oh, I've got a few dozen cigars to smoke, brandy to drink and a beautiful crossbow with your name on it," Varric said confidently.
"Oh I love it how you stay so true," Hawke said in amusement. "Now, what caused the explosion? Pretty empty follow-up for an ambush."
"They are on to us, obviously," the cocky elf said without much concern. "I never quite liked being bottom. Let us change positions, shall we?"
In yet another narrow hallway, these Crow guards were annoying. They were too agile, too quick to escape their sight, too swift to catch them off guard. Much better opponents than the rogue wannabe mercenaries in Hawke's usual enemy repertoire. For her, fights were fairly easy because she was the least expected to tank the groups, which made her swift whirlwinds and scythes all the more effective. As for Fenris, well, it didn't seem to be much of a problem for him. His lyrium glow allowed him to refract through most backstabs and surprise the enemies with his surprise fist through the heart and die dead enough move. But now their group was much too fiercely imbalanced for her taste and it grew clearer that Armand and his friend were using her as the tanking shield for their surprise lethal attacks with either their Antivan stilettos or their interestingly enough ghost blades coming from their sleeves.
Nevertheless, it was still awesome. Oh yes, the air never ravished them heavier with such vigour and freshness coming out of a good, successful kill of someone who pleaded for destiny to come back and bite them. Dead was dead and it that was all that mattered. She ducked, dual-swept their legs and kicked them backwards only to plant the two swords in their chests. Fenris was always behind her, ready to powerfully intercept all backstabs coming at her. At one point it grew extremely misty, as both the assassins on their side and on the enemy's threw gas bombs during fights. As she kicked an elf in the nuts and prepared to finish him off, something dragged at her coat from behind and grabbed her by the shoulder painfully. Fenris made her duck down and she rolled over and away as a crazed elf marched into him. At this point he was growing in lack of a calm demeanour during combat. He grabbed the light-armoured elf by the bicep and rolled him in the air before he fell on the ground and Fenris planted a sword in his chest. Good sign. Usually he beheaded people without mercy.
His short delight of triumph as he saw this was the last of them got suddenly interrupted as he felt and heard a fierce splash of blood smear his hair and his back. The blood bath erupted from Hawke's sword which was plunged right through and out of an assassin's head which almost got to stab him in the ribs. As the corpse was pulled down by gravity, Hawke looked at him calmly and winked.
"It seems Amadeo did not exaggerate your skills," the Antivan said proudly. "You have piqued my interest."
"Well, you have piqued my indifference," Hawke said coldly.
The elf chuckled and shook his head while looking down, muttering in Antivan with a smile, "O, cara mia, mishante vello troppo." (Note: It's my take on creating Antivan – this is not Italian – He said to himself Oh my dear, I miss you so much - which was quickly misheard for the term 'vishante' / 'eat' in Tevene.)
"That's it," Fenris snapped fiercely and shoved the elf into a wall.
"Normally I know exactly what I said that piss people off, but this time I must confess I have not one clue," the elf said in amusement as he remained unperturbed by Fenris's assaultive grip.
Fenris jumped down his throat and snarled, "Is it not enough that you speak like a baboon in heat; now you have to spit your perversions in your own tongue so nobody understands?"
"That is a nice trick you have, my friend, but I assure you I can still kill you in six different ways right now; it may be best for both of us if that doesn't happen, yes?" the blonde elf said joyfully to Fenris, without trying to escape his assault just yet. "As for whatever you think you have heard, I am quite certain you have misheard."
"He is Tevinter," Armand said calmly. "There is plenty to be misheard."
"Oh, Heaven," the blonde elf gasped and rolled his eyes. "You base your own pompous language for translating my beautifully glorious tongue? Such insolence."
"My apologies. I shall endeavour to consult a dictionary for your rank gutter tongue," Fenris said roughly while narrowing his eyes and keeping his grip on the elf's throat.
The elf laughed heavily, "My friend, you sting my heart with such hostility. Truly you do."
Fenris eyed him coldly and his glow seemed to become brighter. "That's not the only thing I can do to your hea-" A sudden blow hit him at the back of head and as he turned around his angry eyes beheld an even angrier scowling Hawke.
"Do you two need a room, or a bed?" she finally asked apathetically in utter annoyance.
"I could make do with just an alleyway if necessary," the blonde elf said in innocent delight. "This is all just fun and games, my friend, you needn't let your temper rise."
Fenris remained undaunted, although his eyes grew darker and his nostrils were viciously flaring. Nevertheless, he looked back at the elf and dropped him nonchalantly. "It was your choice to play with fire."
The elf sighed and smiled delightfully as he groomed his clothes. "'Tis the spice of life, and I never did mind a few burns."
"Mordev beium testes," Fenris muttered unemotionally.
"Oh, was that a flirt? Translating your pompous Tevinter is so hard," the elf said in amusement.
"Not unless you consider death threats or calling your mother a whore a pick-up line," Varric said while chuckling.
"My Mother was a whore, and as for the death threats… I can work with those," the elf said self-assuredly.
"I said, bite my balls," Fenris surprisingly said without shame. Bad sign; this clearly meant he lost track of all his patience and control.
"Hmmm I can work with that too," the elf said with a playful grin. "Denying me is a crime against the Maker himself."
He just had to press it further, didn't he? Fenris snapped and came back to him. "That's quite alright. I come from godless people."
Armand quickly came between them and said in a sharp tone, "Ill' marital et fidus coniugi suam, hoc non nisi per iocum avaris," then he paused and sighed while shaking his head. "Na festis ex nostrem pericum nove."
Fenris narrowed his eyes and muttered back in his language as though he were unimpressed, "Festis opifex non curaevat." Then he gestured and pointed in an ambiguous direction. "Terra sic iocud parvum gustum havet," he appeared to say in annoyance and shoved his palm as if to stop, "quobis ei dellare mortus brevi tempore canavuram."
While they kept arguing in controlled tones in their strange language, Hawke and Varric exchanged shrugs and perplexed looks while the Antivan shook his head with an entertained smirk. One just had to look at their body language. Armand was not really expressing himself in a commanding or fatherly tone, but he looked as though he was clearing something out. Fenris appeared unimpressed and revolting politely against whatever the other said and his hand gestures expressed annoyance or impatience. Hawke tried to make something out of it, but could only understand two or three words she heard him say before. Apart from the overly repeating kevesh, vishatta and aluvin valla kal which Hawke learned over the years were all curse words, at best, all she got was "cold", "horse" and "death", which didn't really… have anything to do with this. Except for death, but one could be so pessimistic… At last, Armand seemed to smile for a second and said something calmly, at which Fenris responded with a curious silence while looking down, followed by a nod in agreement.
"Well, if everyone's speaking in different tongues, I might as well start rambling in old Alamari too," Hawke said in annoyance, her eyebrow arching sneeringly to the skies above.
"Oh, that is a seriously disgusting language," the blonde elf suddenly said.
Hawke grinned shortly and pointed at the elf, "AHA! And how would you know that, hm? Perhaps you can say ashes to ashes while you're at it?" she said assertively, pertaining subtly to the Sacred Ashes.
"I have travelled far and wide, my dear," the elf diverted calmly and sought to resume walking.
He stopped when Hawke said confidently from behind, "No one speaks old Alamari except for the regional people in the surrounding areas of Haven. What in blazes could you possibly have had to do there in your travels far and wide under the blue, blue sky?"
The elf smiled and rolled his eyes, "Someone needed assassinating as I recall. It was a long time ago."
Hawke scowled fiercely and pointed at him, "You are as terrible a liar as you probably were an assas-… Yes, indeed… You are that terrible assassin, aren't you?"
"I disagree," the blonde elf said and turned around with a grin. "I am ridiculously awesome."
"Zevran," she said assertively, almost sounding like an accusation as she approached him and he backed off against a wall.
The elf grinned under her assaultive posture. "Yes, baby. Say my name again."
She ignored his pointless imperatives and narrowed her eyes. "I have a bone to pick with you when we're out of here."
"Is it the same one I'm thinking of?" Zevran asked innocently. She didn't answer, instead murderously growing a scowl. "Oh come now, that one is Ferelden," Zevran continued subtly, without caring much for blowing his cover anymore.
"Keep your boner for your wife," Hawke said sharply.
Fenris chuckled suddenly. "I can't imagine how she puts up with a husband like you."
"She enjoys it. I make sure she does," Zevran said confidently. "You on the other hand…"
"I what?" Fenris asked while crossed his arms.
"I hope you last as long in bed as you do in arguments. Hum," Zevran paused and grinned at her. "I should be asking this of Hawke."
She rolled her eyes and backed away. "Hawke this, Hawke that. Why does everything fall to me?"
Zevran laughed in delight. "And why not? Your skills in leadership, your badass beauty; men should bow their heads as you walk, my dear. I dare say you could rule an entire country."
Hawke snorted quickly and Fenris chuckled heavily. "She's too proud for that."
"Such a shame," Zevran said charmingly. "That is exactly what separates true leaders from tyrants. Alas."
"Enough of this hero worship, I'm getting seriously nauseated," Varric intervened angrily.
"Hm, yes, I can see now just how fiercely ridiculous this whole thing is," Hawke said grumpily as she started walking forward.
"What is?" Zevran asked from behind in confusion.
"She has a strong case of hero worship for your wife," Fenris said calmly while surprisingly smirking with ease as he talked to Zevran now.
"I do not!" Hawke screamed and her face turned red from blushing.
"I will tell her she has a fan," Zevran said in amusement from behind.
She stopped and turned to him. "I can tell her so myself, if you don't mind."
"Tsk. It is not as if I'm hiding her in my pants, much as I would like. A bit paranoid, are we not?" Zevran said charmingly.
"You have no idea," Fenris said grumpily.
"Maker's dangling testicles, even HIM you turn and gang up on me with?" Hawke almost shouted, cheeks burning red. She pointed at Fenris, "Fuck you," then pointed at Zevran, "Fuck you," then stopped at Armand and Varric. "You two are good."
"Heeh- now what was that for?" Zevran asked with a scowl.
"You know how once a month women turn crazy for about thirty days?" Fenris asked sarcastically.
"You know how something about your face attracts my fist?" Hawke retaliated angrily.
Fenris rolled his eyes and turned his head to Zevran, "Told you."
"Yeah, keep rolling your eyes Fenris, maybe one day you'll find a brain back there."
Zevran chuckled, "Heavens, such rudeness, you're not even married yet."
"No worries there. If I was his wife, I'd poison his drink," Hawke said confidently.
"If I was your husband I'd drink it," Fenris retorted sharply.
Zevran chuckled again and looked at Armand. "No, trust me. They are a terrible example."
"You don't say," Armand muttered grumpily with a contained smile.
"At fighting as rogues, yes, you are most certainly correct," Hawke waved at them irritably.
"Well, that's why we have monstrous warriors such as you to keep us safe and warm while we dance with knives and swim in glory," Zevran teased cockily.
"And at some point drown in their own arrogance," Hawke finished grumpily. "Wait, what in the Void is that?"
They arrived in a grand windowless hallway, being so deep beneath the surface already, which contained at the other end a massive pair of doors resembling a vault made out of fine brass and steel and ridiculously complex locking mechanisms.
"Tell me it's time we turn around," Varric muttered in annoyance.
"Sadly, no," Zevran said and sighed, "There is no other way and I think this is actually the right destination." He turned and gave Armand a warm smile. "What do you think?"
Armand's eyelids fell halfway and groaned,"I think I'm too old for this sh-"
"Those rings - they're interlocking in some strange mechanism," Hawke said in fascination as she approached the doors. "Well, now it's time you swim in glory, rogue."
"Ah, I have always been terrible at lockpicking," Zevran complained innocently. "What do you say, Amadeo? We blow it up?"
"Of course," Armand said calmly while reaching into his coat.
"No great idea or story starts with What do you say we blow it up," Varrilc quickly intervened. "Can't I just have a look? It looks fiercely dwarven anyway."
"You do what you have to do, my dwarven friend," Zevran said assuredly. "In the meantime we make our bomb, yes?"
"Good god," Fenris muttered in annoyance.
"Hasty judgements are criminal, forgive the pun," Hawke said quickly. "Let's just calm down and work this thing out. So there are three rings in the centre and two grand metal bars forming an inverted V contraption above. They're held by these two side ledges. We either crack these up or resolve to… "
"Look out!" Zevran shouted from behind. They backed away in terror as Armand threw a rather huge bomb already aflame right into the centre of the vault door.
The searing noise of the explosion deafened everyone and their eyes grew blind and alight as they covered themselves and ran away from the epicentre. The ground shook colossally hard and the walls nearby started to collapse, dropping giant pieces of stone all around the group. "NOT TODAY," Varric shouted in annoyance as he gripped tightly at one of Hawke's legs.
"You've got to be kidding me," Zevran scowled innocently when the ground finally calmed away. The massive door was perfectly intact.
"So much for swimming in glory, eh?" Hawke said mockingly and approached the door again. "Let the smart people take over from now, yes?"
"Whatever," Zevran muttered irritably.
Hawke examined the complicated mechanism as Fenris came beside her and eyed it curiously. "Do you have a theory?"
"This contraption here is held on both sides by glass plates," Hawke said as she pointed and tried not touch them. "If I wasn't sober, I'd say we're in a Circle."
"There is no Circle here," Zevran shouted angrily. "Care to postulate another perhaps more reasonable theory?"
"If it were a Circle I'd be-…" she paused and stopped herself from continuing when Fenris flinched. She inhaled heavily and caught Fenris by the elbow to drag him closer.
"Yes?" he said politely to mask his confusion as he looked at her insistently.
"This is –"
"Why are you whispering?"
"Because this door is sealed by," Hawke paused and looked at the group of rogues who were peacefully ignoring them as Varric showed them his crossbow, "the door is sealed by magic."
"And … it can hear us?" Fenris asked sarcastically.
"And I don't need this to become a big fuss," Hawke hissed quickly. "If this door is a spitting replica of a vault of the Circle, then it needs to be opened by a mage and a Templar."
"Perfect. We should go for a quick run to Rialto and kidnap a Templar then," Fenris muttered grumpily.
"There may be something else we can do before we resort to kidnapping," Hawke said while rolling her eyes. "Your markings… they rip through the particles of the Fade, don't they? That's why you can't actually move through walls or lifeless things in general, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't know," Fenris said calmly. "I know nothing of what they were actually designed for."
"Well I've got a pretty good idea," Hawke sneered. "If you touch that plate while your glow is on it might mistake you for a Templar."
"How in the name of-"
"Just do it," Hawke growled quietly.
Fenris pressed his lips in annoyance and turned his lyrium glow on. "Fine."
"On the count of three," Hawke demanded assertively as she moved to the other plate and prepared to touch it. "One…" They looked at each other in amicable telepathy and a sudden form of trust built up to connect them in their exchange of seemingly angry looks. Lyrium-etched elf and warrior human mage alike, they stood in front of each side of the mechanism and drew their hands out in front of the silver glowing plates as if two sides of a blind coin suddenly met to fuse for the greater good of the people who restlessly tossed it from one resentful hand to another. "Two…" Fenris inhaled heavily and prepared to dissipate his hand from the physical world when Hawke effortlessly nodded at him a silent Three.
Hope you enjoyed. Review if you will :D I'm sleep-deprived again and gasping for air finally, but I had quite a lot of fun writing it. Totally worth it.