Promises: Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all assorted characters/places/etc belong to Bioware, not me.

"I can't wait until he has a hangover," Fenris muttered as the door closed behind the assassin.

"You and me both. I've been plotting my revenge since he woke me up so rudely this morning," Hawke chipped in. "Savor the pain? That quite possibly is the worst advice ever. And I've heard a lot of bad advice since meeting Zev."

"Most of it from him, I'd wager." Fenris was happy to hear that his mageling shared his desire for revenge. They discussed the matter further with Hawke taking great delight at the idea of feeding Zevran his own words. Fenris had rather thought that was a good idea himself, but it warmed his heart to hear it endorse so fervently by his mageling.

However they could only speak so long of revenge especially as they didn't know if they would ever get a chance to enact it. They each took a bath after that topic had dwindled away, but once they were clean there wasn't much else to do for the evening. Fenris appreciated why the assassin wanted them to stay put. Between the tavern last night and the alienage earlier today, they had made enough of a spectacle to be memorable. That was unfortunate because keeping a low profile was the best way to keep the templars far away from Hawke.

Still it was blasted dull to sit around and not do anything. Having nothing better to do, Fenris laid out his armor and did his best to mend its tears. Hawke, who kept looking at him ever since he had finished with his bath, had immediately scrambled over to his side and offered her help. Fenris blanched. The thought of what the mageling could do to his only set of armor all in the name of helping…he quickly told her while he appreciated her offer, he was more than capable of fixing the minor damage to his armor alone.

Hawke huffed in disappointment but didn't move. She continued to sit and watch as he worked. Fenris found it unnerving to try and concentrate when someone was watching your every move. Finally he turned to the mageling and said bluntly, "Will you stop that?"

She blinked in confusion. "Stop what? I haven't touched anything—just as you asked," she said sulkily.

"I meant stop staring at me. It's distracting," he clarified.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just that…there really isn't anything else to do. There isn't much in the way of entertainment here, in case you failed to notice. I sort of wish that I had got that book from that shop. At least I could read then."

"If you're bored, why don't you call it a night and try to get some sleep?" Fenris suggested half-heartedly. He just knew that his mageling was going to push aside such a suggestion for it was entirely too reasonable idea for her to follow.

"It's too early to sleep, and what's more I'm still wound up from today. I'm not sleepy at all," Hawke replied.

Fenris mentally congratulated for predicting his mageling's reaction correctly yet again. There were times when he thought he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Besides I would like to be awake for whenever Zevran gets back. Do you think he'll find anything?"

Fenris shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said. "The assassin has yet to prove himself to be skillful outside of battle or bargaining with merchants."

"So you think he won't have much luck?"

"As far as I can tell, the assassin has no luck. But recently…there have been times when Zevran suddenly seemed bitter or harsh…I wonder if there is more to him than just what we see," Fenris said, wondering if his mageling had picked up on that.

"I noticed that too," Hawke admitted. "Sometimes I think he really hates being a Crow, which is ridiculous I know because he's always bragging about how he's the best assassin ever." She bit her lower lip. "You know, back when we first met Zevran and you said that he was not telling us the truth…I think you were right. Today proved it when he all but admitted that he had conveniently forgot to tell us about not having to rescue the recruits. I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Hearing those words out of his mageling's mouth didn't feel as good as Fenris thought it would, not when Hawke looked so sad. He reached out a hesitant hand and patted her awkwardly on the shoulders. "It's all right, Hawke," he said slowly. "You tend to…believe the best of people. There's nothing wrong with that." Well except for the fact that it made her an easy target, he added mentally, but that's why she had him around to look out for her.

"I suppose," she said, her face turned away from him. Then she suddenly leaped at him, her momentum almost sending him toppling as her arms embraced him. He rallied valiantly to maintain his balance as his mageling rested her head upon his shoulder. "You're so sweet, Fenris. You try so hard to project this image of being a grumpy and fierce warrior when really you're the nicest person I know."

The tips of Fenris' ears burned with embarrassment. "I am not a nice person," he told her.

"Yes you are," she replied fervently. "And you're kind and good…if you weren't you wouldn't worry half as much as you do about me. You just hide that all very well, even from yourself. But you're better than you think you are, and I won't ever let you forget that. I'll remind you every day if I have to."

Shame twisted Fenris' features into something dark, and his lips curled into a bitter grin even as his arms tightened around his mageling out of their own accord. Hawke would never learn. There she went again, thinking the best of people when she should know better. He was not a good man; he had too much hatred in him to ever be that. This he knew, and this he resented more than anything else. In another life—one in which he hadn't been a slave, one in which lyrium and blood magic hadn't been engraved into his skin and soul—maybe he could have lived up to his mageling's expectations.

He dreaded the day when Hawke would realize that he wasn't the man she thought he was. It was inevitable. As trusting as the mageling was, eventually she would be unable to deny the fact that he was hateful and bitter and cruel. His heart lurched as he thought about what her reaction would be. She would try to flee, to leave him behind but he—he didn't think that he would have the strength to let her go.

The assassin didn't return until the small hours of the morning. Hawke had long given up trying to wait up for Zevran and retired to sleep in the smallest room. Fenris ostensibly joined her, taking the bed nearest the door so he could keep watch. He drifted in and out of a light sleep that was broken readily when he heard the assassin enter the suite.

Fenris got up quietly. He paused and turned to look at Hawke. The mageling was fast asleep with a smile on her lips, one that found its echo on Fenris' face. He hoped her dream was a good one.

He padded over to the first room on silent feet. "Well?" he asked the assassin, one eyebrow raised up in question.

"It was a good night," was Zevran's reply. "A very good night indeed. But it is late, my friend, and I need my sleep...well after I have a bath, that is. I will tell you what I found out tomorrow morning over breakfast. That way I don't have to repeat myself."

Fenris nodded his head. He was curious to hear what the assassin had learned, but it could wait until the morn. Besides if he and Hawke woke up before Zevran—which was likely given that the other elf had been out all night—the mageling wouldn't be able to pester him with questions. Well with as many questions. She would still try but would give up once he told her that he didn't know anything.

It was the smell of fresh baked bread that woke him the next morning. He sat up in bed and groggily took note of his surroundings. His brow furrowed as he saw that the bed nearest the wall, the one that Hawke had slept in, was empty.

All sleep erased from his countenance, he threw his sheet aside. Muttering curses under his breath, he stalked through the larger room, where the assassin still snoozed, and into entrance room. There Hawke stood, already dressed in her green robes, smiling charmingly at the serving girl as she delivered breakfast to them.

So much for the mageling not opening the door. Her inability to follow simple instructions was going to lead him to an early grave. He stood there, scowling, as Hawke thanked the girl for bringing the food before ushering her out.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that you woke up with another hangover," Hawke said cheerfully once the door was closed.

Fenris rolled his eyes at that remark.

"And don't do that, please. Sometimes I swear I can hear it when you roll your eyes at me," the mageling went on. She turned around to face him. She gave him the once over and then sighed. "You didn't sleep well last night, did you? You look positively exhausted."

Fenris shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a light sleeper naturally, and the assassin woke me when he came bumbling in."

"While I have no doubt Zev woke you, I doubt that he made all that noise. You stayed up late because you were waiting for him, long after you insisted I go to sleep." Hawke made a clucking noise with her tongue. "This is why I shouldn't bother listening to your advice. You don't follow it yourself. Anyway Zev is still sleeping so why don't you try to nap a little as well?"

Fenris gave another shrug. "I'm awake now," he said. "I don't think I can get back to sleep." It then occurred to him what his mageling had been doing. He glowered at her. "And enough of you trying to distract me. Didn't Zevran say that you should let one of us open the door?"

"Well he did, but then I said and you agreed that Zev hands out a lot of bad advice. So I thought I'd ignore it." She gave him a cheeky grin, one that faded when she saw how upset he was. "Fenris. Don't worry so. I remember everything Zev said, about him telling the innkeeper that you two are my servants. I did wait to see if one of you would get up, but I couldn't just let the girl go on knocking at the door."

Fenris crossed his arms, unappeased at her explanation. "It didn't occur to you to wake me up?"

"The thought crossed my mind," she replied. "But you looked so peaceful…I couldn't bear to wake you. So I let her in myself and made certain to complain about how lazy the two of you are. That's in keeping with the story Zev had concocted for us, I think. Now if you're done lecturing me, how about we eat breakfast?"

He would only be wasting his breath to continue in the same vein. He took a seat across from her at the table. She passed him a plate, and together they enjoyed a light breakfast. Hawke had already eaten her fill when Zevran put in an appearance.

"Decided to start without me?" he asked, cocking up an eyebrow. He immediately began helping himself to some of the fresh fruit, not even bothering to take a plate. "I'd be hurt…except for the fact that I think we need to start thinking about getting out of town."

Fenris and Hawke exchanged a look. That didn't sound good.

"All right, spill. Just what exactly did you get up to last night?" Hawke asked.

"Nothing except what I said I would. I asked around the alienage and found out that there had been slavers there recently. Some hirelings of Brax even."

"And how do you know that? Do slavers go around and conveniently announce who they're working for when they're hunting? Or is there perhaps some sort of uniform involved?" was Hawke's next inquiry.

"No, unfortunately. It would be much easier to track them if they did have a uniform. But I know that these particular slave hunters worked for Brax because they were bragging how their boss was so good that he even got away with taking fledgling Crows," Zevran replied. "Long story short, they were headed south and east towards Rialto."

"So if we hurry you think we might catch them?" It seemed like a long shot to Fenris, but then the assassin was most likely getting desperate.

"Maybe, maybe not. We will never know if we do not try. I did manage to procure maps of the coast between here and there that lay out common smugglers' hideouts. We can check those along the way for clues too."

"Zevran," Hawke said calmly. She leaned towards the assassin with a friendly smile on her face. Said smile, however, didn't quite reach her eyes. "What is it that you're not telling us?"

Fenris was willing to bet he already knew how the assassin had got into trouble. "You stole the maps from someone last night who is now out to get you."

"Absolutely not," the assassin denied.

Fenris just gave him a look. He didn't buy that claim one bit.

"I stole them the night before from Isabela. Rumor has it that she's a little peeved with me."

"How peeved?" Hawke's tone brooked no nonsense.

"She might have her entire crew turned out scouring the city for me."

"So we have an entire ship of raiders out for your blood?" Fenris couldn't believe how much trouble the assassin had managed to land himself in. Zevran was worse than the mageling.

"Well Zev always did claim that he was a wanted man. Now we know what he meant," Hawke quipped, injecting a bit of levity into the conversation.

"I don't think she's out for my life, if that's what you're thinking. She wants get her maps back as they were her only copy and perhaps also have a…slightly forceful conversation with me."

"A forceful conversation? Is that what you think? Frankly my money is on her wanting to castrate you," said Hawke.

The assassin's face turned white at that thought. "You are a cruel, cruel woman," Zevran muttered. "But I'm afraid there's more…"

Fenris threw up his arms in disgust. "Of course there's more. There's always more. What else have you done?" He got up from the table and started pacing back and forth across the room.

"It's not what I've done but what I overheard. The templars were scouting the alienage last night, and to get them to go away, someone gave them our description." Zevran paused. "Several someones actually. I had a chat with them afterwards but the damage was done. So if you two are finished, it's time that we pack up and leave."

Fenris was herding Hawke to the back room before Zevran had finished making that suggestion. They were done packing up in a matter of minutes and headed back out to the front room. Fenris frowned as he followed Hawke. Though her robes blended into the shadows readily, they were still too obvious. It was too bad they didn't have any spare armor they could throw her in.

Zevran was waiting for them, his pack in hand as he stuffed away the last of the bread into it. The three of them headed out of the suite with the assassin in the lead. They had just reached the stairs, however, when they heard a commotion erupting down below.

"One second," Zevran said. He popped his head over the railing to peer down and over at the inn's entrance. "Maker's balls," he swore. "Those are Isabela's men. Looks like we have to take the back way out."

"This smells like a trap. What if the back way is covered as well?" Fenris asked.

"Then we go to plan b. Don't bother asking me what it is. I haven't thought of it yet. But enough of this talking. The sooner we start running, the more likely we are to get away."

Author's note: Thanks and hugs to all my reviewers. You all are the best! :D