Chapter Four

At the De Launcet mansion, the servant at the door seemed somewhat perplexed by the lady being escorted by the elf. Was he a chaperone or a manservant? It wasn't until the lady said her name that the young elf at the door understood. Everyone in the city had a passing acquaintance with the Champion and her companions. He took his place at the entrance and banged his staff to announce their arrival: "The lady Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall and her companion, Fenris." He declared to the gathered nobles. The crowd turned to look and many eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Knots of ladies began buzzing with gossip and many stole glances at the striking couple. The noble matrons clearly disapproved of Hawke bringing such an unsuitable escort, inconveniently limiting the access their unmarried sons would have to her. The younger ladies whispered among themselves commenting on the scandal of coming accompanied by an elf, but making the concession that if it was that elf, they would probably bear the scandal too (if you know what I mean). The men harrumphed at the elf on her arm, but were more distracted by how lovely the Champion looked out of armor. Some joked that they had never imagined that there was a real woman under all that steel.

Soon, other guests arrived and were gossiped about, and the Champion's idiosyncrasies were now simply part of the local color of the festivities. All kinds of rumors were making the rounds at the event. Everything was discussed; from forbidden marriages, to illegitimate children, to petty squabbles ending in duels. No subject was too delicate or personal not to chat about.

Once the hall seemed full, the guests were escorted to the dining room where an enormous table had been elaborately set. Everyone found their seats. Fenris swapped seats with a minor noble in order to sit across from Hawke. She smiled brightly at the gesture. They were seated like they had been at her mansion. However, this time Fenris was flanked by two giggling teenage girls, and she was walled in by an ancient-looking old man and a pudgy, middle-aged marquis.

The meal went just as Fenris had taught her. She was once again impressed by the vast knowledge the elf had. He was a different person in these circumstances. He was conversing politely with the girls at his sides, who blushed and giggled right through dinner (and would nurse crushes on him for at least six months). Hawke in turn spoke mostly to the very old man who turned out to be a great uncle to the current Comte De Launcet, and was possibly distantly related to her through the Amell side.

People avoided any mention of the Chantry, the Circle or the Templars. However, everyone was eager to install a new Viscount. This dinner was a prelude to that choice. Everyone was sizing up their neighbors and shortening the list of candidates. Hawke knew perfectly well she was on the short list of candidates, but she would prefer for someone else to take the position. But, she wouldn't idly sit back and let just anyone take the throne. This is why she had felt compelled to attend this event.

Finally, dessert was served and eaten. The officious young elf who had greeted them at the door now appeared at the entrance of the dining room and declared: "The ballroom is prepared and awaits your pleasure." He gave a quick bow and exited.

Couples found each other and drifted towards the ballroom. Fenris caught up with Hawke. "You should have said it was a ball." He said quietly in her ear.

"I thought I had." She answered.

Fenris glared and Hawke shrugged. There was nothing to be done now. Fenris set his jaw and escorted her to the ballroom.