A/N: Okay, this turned out much longer than I intended, but I doubt that that's a bad thing. Anyway, the purpose of this chapter is mostly to explain the differences between the past of game Hawke and this Hawke, and there are a lot of them, like, the whole freaking thing. My timeline makes sense to me, but please, please, please tell me if you notice any discrepancies. Hawke is going to seem much different by the end of the chapter, but I promise, she really hasn't changed! (This is just her serious side.) Oh, and all of my information on the Qunari comes from the various conversations I've had with the Arishok, the wiki page, and my nifty little strategy guide. That's right, Qunari.
"Dead, dead, dead, every last fucking one of them!" An accomplished, blood-coated Hawke laughed to herself as she clapped her hands together.
"Hawke, are you quite alright? You seem to be enjoying this a little too much." A skeptic Aveline asked as she eyed the carnage.
"Perfectly fine, Aveline, I don't know what you could possibly mean." Hawke retorted, pulling at a flap of skin hanging off the face of one of her many nameless victims.
"Uh, Hawke, I think she has a point, you don't usually... play with corpses." Anders commented, staring at Hawke from what he believed to be a safe distance.
"She does when it's slavers." Isabela shrugged, this was kind of her normal routine, torture slavers, kill slavers, pick at slavers' corpses. She was just glad that Hawke had glossed over the torture phase this time, probably because she really didn't want to expose Aveline and Anders to it, though she would never admit to that. In all the time they had traveled together, since their chance encounter at the docks of Minrathous, Hawke had never displayed more abject hatred for anything than she did for those who traded in flesh.
"No, Isabela! That's not it at all! What if he's got some sort of gem embedded in his cheekbones? I would never be able to forgive myself if I missed something like that!" Hawke cried, completely convincing.
"Hawke, are you serious?" Anders questioned.
"Nah, I'm just fucking with you." Hawke said dismissively as she stood and dusted off her knees.
"Oh, you'll fuck with him, but you won't fuck with me? I see how you are." Isabela crossed her arms and Anders' cheeks flushed red.
"You'd better watch out, Anders, or she'll think there's a gem in your cheekbones." Aveline joked as Anders turned away from the group.
"Oh, no fucking way," Hawke stared in disbelief, momentarily making Anders think that it was the start of a very public rejection, "there's more of them!"
Another soldier was waltzing his way down the stairs with a nasty looking haircut, "I don't know who you are, friend, but you've made a-"
Hawke cut him off, "Oh, no, no, no, I am not your friend, you shouldn't use such a word lightly. You can continue with your speech now." Hawke nodded with a short smile and a wave of her hand.
The man shook his head, obviously not expecting her to be so nonchalant, "Lieutenant, I want everyone in the clearing, now!"
A heavily armored, and certainly stumbling man wobbled his way around the corner, projecting a wave of blood from his mouth directly onto the face of his 'Captain' before he fell, dead, and the elf that had assigned them this job took his place.
"Your men are dead, your trap has failed, I suggest running back to your master while you have the chance."
"No, you are coming with me, sl-ah!" And he was dead, heart ripped clean out of his chest.
"I am no slave."
Isabela and Hawke looked at each other, nodded, and... applauded? The two of them clapped their hands together as Anders and Aveline just stared at them. "I just knew there was a reason I liked him!" Isabela said, "I told you, I did!"
"And I told you that you didn't have to worry about me telling him not to come, because he was going to come anyway, and what did you tell me then? Hmm?"
Isabela's head drooped down in a drastic change of attitude, "I said he wouldn't."
"And what did he do?" Hawke asked, looking rather triumphant.
"He did." Isabela frowned.
"That's right, he did, and what did else did you tell me?"
"That if he had the balls to cross a direct order from Hawke herself that I'd buy all the drinks tonight."
"Indeed you did, Isabela, indeed you did."
Fenris was speechless, well, almost speechless, hearing anything about 'direct orders' riled him up, more so than he already was, "I do not take orders from you!"
"Fucking hell!" Isabela shouted, digging a coin from her pocket and dropping it in Hawke's now outstretched hand, "How do you do it, Hawke? How could you have possibly known that he would get all pissy at the very mention of orders?"
"I'm a con-artist, Isabela, reading people is kind of what I do." Hawke smiled and turned back to Fenris, who's face displayed a mixture of rage and confusion. "Now, is there anything you'd like to tell me? This was an awfully large ambush for one man, not that I mind of course."
Fenris scowled, "I am Fenris, they were looking for me, bounty hunters trying to reclaim their master's property."
"Oh, really? Like we couldn't have guessed that, I knew you were an escaped slave the second I laid eyes on you. Thanks for finally giving me a name to put with your face, though. I'm not asking what you are, I'm asking why you're so damn important that these idiots have to tear up my city." Hawke was getting argumentative.
"How could you have possibly known that, Hawke?" Anders asked from behind her.
To which Isabela replied, "Do not ask questions like that, she'll stab you."
Ignoring the two, Fenris continued, "These markings, obviously, my master branded them into my skin, against my wishes. They have served me well though, without them I would still be a slave."
Hawke watched him for a moment, having some sort of internal conversation with herself, before she turned on her heel and said, "Alright girls, job's over, let's go home."
"Hey! I am not a girl!" Anders protested.
"Don't fucking question me, Anders, I'm not blind and I will call you a girl if I damn-well want to! You are wearing a dress, aren't you?" Hawke bit back, she wasn't really upset with him, more so with the fact that all the slavers were dead and she hadn't had the chance to get any information out of a single one of them.
"Alright, alright, don't bite my head off." Anders mumbled, he had been getting more and more frustrated with Hawke, well, more with the idea of Hawke, but she rarely snapped at him that badly.
"Wait, not quite." Fenris added when he finally got the chance, "My former master had to have accompanied them to the city, I know you must have questions, but I have to confront him before he flees. I will... need your help."
Hawke turned to him with a wide, devilish grin, "Oh no, no questions at all. Lead the way."
In the end it turned out to be a useless endeavor. They came, they saw, they killed everything in the mansion, but there was no 'master'. He was gone, to both Hawke's and Fenris's dismay. Isabela understood her frustration, and Fenris hadn't known her long enough to see that it was out of character for her to be this upset by, well, anything, but Anders and Aveline noticed a very distinct change in the woman that was otherwise Hawke.
"I escaped a life in which I was surrounded by dark magic, only to find myself in its company yet again." Fenris said as the group caught up with him, "I should have noticed earlier what your companion here is, a mage, do you understand what you are allying yourself with?"
"Oh lords, here we go," an irritated Hawke shook her head, "are you going to tell me all about how I'm harboring a man that might turn to blood magic and crazy demon sex orgies as soon as he catches a whiff of the power that will undoubtedly drive him mad? Because I already fucking know that! Why you didn't catch on the second you saw him is beyond me, honestly, the robes and the staff are kind of a dead giveaway."
"I- I did not mean to offend you, nor do I mean to sound ungrateful, nothing could be farther from the truth." A shocked Fenris spoke.
"And now you sound like a kiss-ass, don't apologize for saying what you mean. I don't like this whole mage thing either, but an ally is an ally, and I doubt that you can tell me he isn't useful."
"Gee, thanks a lot, Hawke." Anders muttered, blaming her foul disposition on whatever had possessed her to fillet corpses earlier on, though, thinking about it, possessed was probably the worst term he could have possibly used.
"Oh, shut up, Anders, not like you don't hear it all the time." Hawke was getting steadily more upset.
Fenris couldn't understand her, nothing she did made sense, but at the same time it most certainly did. Her honesty was refreshing and disconcerting all at once, and he had no doubt that it had, most likely in several instances, gotten her in trouble. He had yet to decide how to handle her, or if he even could. The world he had come from was full of deception and lies, treachery and deceit, and he had found that, although not as severe, things were not much different here. To find someone that spoke the truth regardless of things like feelings would be quite the lucky break. He supposed that she could still be lying, he had seen more than his fair share of people that changed their opinions with every set of guests, but only time would tell. It wasn't like him to put this much thought into an- "Is there anything else you need? We're wasting the precious few hours I get to sleep."
"No," Fenris said, shaken from thought, "but I feel as though I have not compensated you sufficiently. If you need my blade, I will be here, and I may have need of you, as well. I have not seen the last of Danarius, that much is certain."
"Oh, I can think of more than a few ways you can use your blade to compensate me." Isabela chimed in.
"Isabela! Is there anyone you don't hit on?" Aveline asked.
"Varric. I never hit on Varric." Isabela nodded.
"Because of Bianca, undoubtedly." Hawke added before turning back to Fenris, "If I have need of you, I will not hesitate, in fact, I'll be by tomorrow morning, we need to chat." The way she said it was almost foreboding, Fenris was not certain this was a chat he really wanted to have. "Oh, and Isabela, could you run back to our room and get my nighttime medicine ready, I'm walking Anders back to the clinic." Anders lit up at this news, as he was not aware of it until just then.
"Hawke, you don't have to hide it, everyone already knows you're an alcoholic." Aveline shook her head.
"Am not, and mind your own fucking business. If I can't sleep right without a pint or two, then so be it." Aveline only shook her head at Hawke again.
"I might have something for that at the clinic, do you want to go now?" Anders asked, forever hopeful.
"Sure thing, my mage-y friend, let's go." Hawke winked at him, back to herself again, even if it was only because she knew she'd be deep in an alcohol induced sleep within the hour.
"I'll be headed back to the Hanged Man in moment, I'm gonna have a little talk with these two." Isabela smiled reassuringly, and Hawke eyed her with suspicion as she walked away. Fenris felt rather awkward, he couldn't just walk away, it seemed awfully rude.
"She's not an alcoholic, you know." Isabela spoke directly at Aveline.
"Is so, she's drank herself to sleep every night since I've known her." Aveline retorted, firm on her position.
"It's that or waking everyone and their dog with her shouting!" Isabela snapped, quite angry. "Without it there isn't a single night Hawke doesn't wake from night terrors, yelling about Malcom or Maker knows what, and you have no place to chastise her about it!"
"Isabela, I didn't know! And besides, like she really cares what I say."
"But she does, Aveline, you just don't see it."
"Well I-"
"I really don't see how this has this has anything to do with me, I'm sure I'll see you around though." Fenris interrupted.
"Oh, no, it has everything to do with you," Isabela said, "you just don't know it yet."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Fenris asked, growing frustrated with the whole situation, this really wasn't his business.
"You were a slave, which means you know about slavers and magisters and all that shit, and I'm sure Hawke thinks that means you know something about whatever the hell it is she's been looking for for the last 6 years." Isabela said, and Aveline's face betrayed her surprise.
"What- what is she looking for?" Aveline asked.
"Oh, hell if I know, she's my closest friend and she still won't tell me, sometimes I doubt she even knows."
Fenris was done speaking to people, this really wasn't his business, "I'm going back inside now, we're done here."
"Hey, wait, I didn't even tell you what I wanted to tell you!" Isabela called at his retreating form.
Fenris sighed, "What?"
"Even though I doubt she will, if she tries drilling you for information tomorrow, remember that she still has feelings under all that bravado. I know you just met her, but we're the ones that have to deal with her when she comes home pissed."
"You can say that again." Aveline added as the conversation came to it's final close.
"So, Hawke..." Anders started as they walked, not certain how to go about talking to her.
"Yes, Anders? Still butt-hurt about my mage comments?" Hawke laughed.
"Uh, no, it's alright. I was just, I wanted to ask you something."
"Well, go for it, this walk isn't going to last forever."
"Unfortunately." Anders smiled, "I was just wondering what it was that had you so upset today, I worry about you, Hawke.
Hawke clenched her jaw, "You shouldn't, I can worry about myself." She was so sick of his constant doting, she had herself convinced that dealing with it was for the best though, better he be sickly romantic than jilted and angry. Mages weren't nice when they were angry.
"Fine, then I'm not worried about you," Anders was tired of trying to be nice to her all the time, when she obviously never cared, "I just want to know what turned you into such a bitch today."
"Fucking finally! Thank the Maker you've stopped flanking everything you say with niceties. Thank you." Hawke was serious, she much preferred it when people didn't screw around.
"What, you actually want me to call you a bitch? You know, you make no sense Hawke, you're so- so confusing!" Anders stopped at the stairs to Darktown.
"No, I don't want you to call me a bitch, I want you to say what you mean! I'm sick of you acting like everything I do is fine, and agreeing with everything I say, because I know you don't! I know you weren't 'alright' with what I said, I know you don't like the way I acted today, so stop pretending like you don't care!"
"Hawke! This is caring! If I was pretending not to care I wouldn't even ask!"
"No, this is lying. You don't lie when you care!" And that's why Hawke always lied to him. She was so looking forward to being done with him for the night.
"What did I lie about? I don't care about what you said, because I know you said it when you were upset, and I do want to know why. Why can't you accept kindness?" Anders argued.
"Because people aren't nice, Anders! Not unless they want something! I just haven't figured out what the hell it is that you want!" Which was a lie, Hawke knew exactly what Anders wanted, she wasn't an idiot, "And too bad, I'm not fucking talking about my feelings with you!"
"You're right, Hawke, I do want something, I want you to be happy. You don't have to talk about it, just know that I'm here for you, like you've been here for me." Anders stepped precariously close to her.
"I- ugh, I'll see you later Anders." Hawke turned away.
"Wait, Hawke, what about that potion I have for you?"
"I'd rather take alcohol than magic, I'm sorry." Hawke sighed, and they parted ways there.
"God, Isabela, I am so sick of him and all his mage bullshit!" Hawke vented, sitting in the two-twin room they had shared since they found themselves stranded in Kirkwall.
"Dear, that's not mage bullshit, that's man bullshit." Isabela corrected as she sipped from her tankard.
"I so don't care." Hawke gulped down some ale, "I wish he would just leave me alone, I have no reason to consort with him anymore." Another gulp, "I got what I wanted," Gulp again, "he got what he wanted," A final gulp and a long pause, "why can't he just go back to wherever his stupid, fucking mage-ass came from!"
"Because he hasn't gotten all that he wants and you keep leading him on! And why does it always have to be mages with you? Normal people can be bitches too." This wasn't the first time Hawke had thrown a fit about Anders, it wasn't first time she had thrown a fit about mages, but it was the first time she had done both, while drunk, right before bed. Isabela didn't care, of course, she was usually the one Hawke vented to, but at this hour?
"Let me tell you something, Isabela, not all bad people are mages, but all mages are bad people." Hawke shook her head and laid down.
"What about Bethany?" Isabela asked.
"Shut up, you. She's dead. She doesn't count." Hawke said as she drifted off.
"And where are you going this early in the morning, Hawke? Don't you have your usual hangover to sleep off? It isn't even noon!" Varric ambushed Hawke on her way out of the Hanged Man.
"Balls, Varric! I'm not totally useless this early! Besides, I always have some level of hangover, it's just that after all these years it's only a dull throb." Hawke defended herself with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Ah, I always like to blame that on Bianca's nagging. I see you're much more cheery than I heard you were yesterday." Varric said in a statement that sounded more like a question.
"Shit, who the hell do you talk to? I haven't even been here for more than 10 hours, does news really travel that fast in this city?"
"Does when you're me, albeit this time it actually wasn't Isabela, seeing as she's still passed out." Varric nodded as Hawke sat with him.
"Oh, does that little harlot talk about me? I should've known."
"No, why would that little harlot talk about a bitter, briny bitch like you?" Isabela had this terrible habit of showing up at the most inopportune times.
"Because I'm fucking fabulous, and sexy, you can't forget sexy." Hawke smiled back up at her.
"Well, I'll give you that." Isabela winked at Hawke and took her seat as well.
"Wait a minute, Hawke, don't you want to know who blabbed on your bad mood?" Varric asked, "I think you'll be relatively surprised."
"Was it Aveline? It's almost always Aveline, and I wasn't in a bad mood, I was determined, there's a difference." Hawke propped herself up on her elbows, cradling her head in her hands, looking rather sleepy.
"That's a bad excuse, you're always determined, but then again, what would I know? I can't even tell the difference between you drunk and you sober." Varric shrugged.
"She's mean when she's drunk." Isabela interjected.
"Oh, like that helps." Varric gave Isabela a sarcastic 'I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that' look.
"No, it's because I'm always just a little bit wasted." Hawke smiled over a dubiously acquired flagon of ale.
"I really hope you're kidding." Varric shook his head, "But, if I know you well enough, that's probably at least a little bit true."
"Only a little bit. Now, who is it that came and told the extravagant storyteller that the infamous Hawke was in a foul mood? I'm dying to know." Hawke raised an eyebrow.
"The elf." Varric crossed his arms and let loose a triumphant grin.
"Uh, Varric, do you have any idea how many elves live in this fucking city? Which one?"
"The only one that glows, obviously!" Sometimes Varric swore that Hawke was daft, "He came in looking for you this morning, something about too many bodies to 'chat' at the mansion. I might have told him that you were probably still in bed with Isabela. Ha! The look on his face! I think he got the wrong idea."
"Oh, I wonder why?" Hawke asked sarcastically, "Why would in the world would anyone come by that early? He didn't seem all that thrilled to talk to me in the first place."
"Early bird, I guess, you two are not going to get along. He said that the rest of your 'companions' seemed worried about you. I told him that no one worries about Hawke, and that you didn't mind bodies. He's expecting you at the mansion any time now."
"More like 'companions whose names start with the letter A', ugh. Thanks for heading him off Varric, I don't know how long he waited for me the first time he was here, but-"
"Most of the day." Isabela interrupted again.
"But," Hawke continued, "I'm glad I didn't walk out here to find him this morning, being blindsided is the last thing I want right now, what with all of Bianca's 'nagging'."
"Sure thing, Hawke, and you might want to hurry, I kind of told him you'd be there at noon, I doubt that he understands that in Hawke time that's way afternoon."
"Shit! Why didn't you tell me that to begin with?"
"Didn't think it was relevant." Varric joked.
Hawke just looked at him with her mouth hanging open. "You want me to go with you?" Isabela asked.
"Nah, I'll be fine. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?" Hawke shrugged.
"Um, are you forgetting the magical fisting thing?"
"The what?" Varric asked, obviously missing part of the story.
"You tell him all about it, and I'm gonna go." Hawke said as she stood and left them there to chat about the various uses of Fenris's abilities.
Hawke strode through the hollow echo of the mansion halls, taking note of every corpse she hadn't got to personally fillet. There had only been shades when they arrived, everyone else was already dead. Thinking about it only served to remind Hawke of how much she hated mages though, and she quickly refocused her attention on the dead. "Maker, this place is a mess. A glorious, gorgeous mess!" She muttered to herself as she unceremoniously dug her heel into the groin of one of the fallen slavers.
"I'm glad you think so." Fenris spoke from somewhere off to the side, apparently she had walked in on him without even noticing.
"Shit! Don't do that! Wait, how did you do that? You aren't exactly sneaky." Hawke cocked her head to the side as she turned to face him, standing there with a bottle of deep colored wine.
"You were quite occupied, it was not difficult." Fenris drank deep from the bottle, "Agreggio Pavali, there are six bottles in the cellar. Danarius had me serve it to his guests, my appearance intimidated them." It made a sickening noise as he flung the bottle into the wall, and Hawke's mouth gaped open at the sight, "At least I can still take pleasure in the small things."
She shook her head, grieving for the wine, "As long as there's more, a little early to be drinking though, isn't it?"
"And you haven't been?" Fenris asked taking a seat and motioning Hawke to take her's, which she did.
"Do I really reek of it that badly? I thought the piss smell would cover it up."
Fenris smiled, she was far more light-hearted today. "No, just a lucky guess. I- I've been meaning to ask, before you get into whatever you wanted to talk about, how did you know that I used to be a slave?"
"Well," Hawke sighed, "my first tip-off was the glowing blue lines all over you. In my experience, if you don't what it is or where it came from, it's from the Imperium."
"As true a statement as I've ever heard." Fenris nodded.
"And elves that aren't mages don't really have much of a chance at getting out of there peacefully. I have to admit, it threw me off when I thought you were a slaver yourself, I've never seen an elf run slaves. That is if you don't count that nasty ring that was in Denerim when Isabela and I were there."
"You are observant. Do you ever want to return to your home, to Fereldan?" Fenris's voice was tinged with some sort of hopeful longing, the need for a home.
"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually Fereldan." Hawke explained, "Isabela and I just showed up at the right time, we sailed off from Denerim and ran into a very, unfortunate situation. It just so happens that I look enough like one them that everyone just assumed. I went along with it, I know enough about the place to pass for a native, and it's far nicer than the truth."
"Oh? And the truth is?" Fenris questioned.
"A story for when I know you better. We both have trust issues no doubt, so perhaps," Hawke paused for a moment, "perhaps we can do this, I ask a question, you answer, you ask a question, I answer. But if either of us suspects a lie, game over."
Fenris puzzled this over, it seemed reasonable enough, and he was fairly good at weeding out lies. "I, think that is a wise idea. May I start?"
"As long as you don't ask the same question, and you realize that I rarely let anyone go before me." Hawke smiled the same devious smile that she wore so often.
"Alright. Athenril mentioned that you had a sister when you worked for her, but you didn't mention her coming with you from Denerim, what happened to her?"
"Starting off with a tough one, 'eh? Nothing about my favorite color, or what kind of flowers I like? Oh well, I suppose I could tell you that." Hawke braced herself for the memory, "My sister's name was Bethany, she died on an expedition we took to the Deep Roads not long after we got here. I try not to talk about her, she was a mage, and with all my opinions on them I'd rather not think about it. Now, did you have any siblings?"
"I'm sorry." Fenris tilted his head to Hawke, "I do not remember, the first thing I recall is receiving these markings. Aside from your sister's death, how did your expedition go?"
"Oh?" Hawke replied, assuming Fenris's family had been yet another casualty of magic, "Like shit. We got absolutely nothing but sore feet and blood-soaked clothes. Do they hurt? I mean, I assume they have to, lyrium isn't all that forgiving."
"Yes, they do, after all these years it is more a dull throb though. What are yo-" Hawke cut into Fenris's question to laugh quite heartily, "What's so funny?"
"I was just telling Varric before I left that after all these years my constant hangover is more of a 'dull throb'. Do you know where you're from?" Hawke giggled a little as she thought about her conversation with Varric.
"That wasn't my question!" Fenris objected.
"Too bad, you asked, and I answered." Hawke smirked at her small triumph.
"Fine." Fenris conceded, "I was told that I am from Seheron, though I do not remember it. Why do you always have a hangover? Do you really drink that much?"
"Yes, I do. My life is shit, or it was shit, and then it got better, and then turned to shit again. It's like everything I do comes back to laugh in my face with a great big 'fuck you, Hawke'. So I drink." Hawke was unusually happy, talking about her life wasn't on her agenda most of the time, it was kind of nice when she wasn't the only one talking. "Are you ever going to go there, if only just to see where you're from?"
"I, do not know how to respond to that, it sounds familiar though." Fenris paused for a moment to reflect, "I don't see the point in going there, it is not the home I remember. If I were to return to my home it would be the Imperium, not Seheron. Are you ready to tell me where you're from?"
"Yes. Was Fenris always your name?" Hawke waited for the backlash, which she received.
"Wait a minute! You didn't answer the question."
"Yes I did, you asked if I was ready to tell you, you did not ask me to tell you." Hawke's grin grew wider.
"You," Fenris let out a defeated sigh, "You are far too good at this."
"I am indeed," Hawke said, "Bethany learned the game on a trip she once took to the Fade, though she never told me how she learned it. It was how we exchanged information most of the time, neither of us were very good at mindless conversation. Come now, though, answer the question!"
"I do not know if I like that or not, but I suppose it's not magic itself. No, my name was not always Fenris, Danarius gave the name to me, his 'little wolf', but I do not know what my name was before." Fenris leaned forward and spoke slowly, ready to finally unravel the mystery of Hawke's homeland, "Now, where are you really from?"
"Qunandar. In Par Vollen."
"I- was certainly not expecting that." Fenris stated, truly surprised.
"No one ever is, apparently all that Par Vollen is supposed to contain is Qunari, which, for the most part, is true. That's why I was raised to be a part of the Qun." Hawke looked fondly on that part of her life, but after that... "Couldn't you change your name, now that you are free of him?"
"You were part of the Qun? No- wait, that's not my question. Yes, I could, but I do not know what I would ever change it to. Do you still consider yourself to be part of the Qun, or are you Tal-Vashoth?
"I did not leave the Qun by choice, I was raised and lived as any Qunari would until my capture. In the eyes of the Qun, I am dead, I fell in battle. I no longer have a place among them, but I am not Tal-Vashoth." Hawke almost didn't like the turn this conversation had taken, but she knew that it had to be. "Do you consider yourself to be a wolf?"
"I do not know, I suppose I do, but certainly not a little one." Hawke laughed at this before Fenris continued, "I do not know exactly which question to ask first, I have several." While Fenris was in thought, Hawke spoke.
"And I don't think I have any more, so, is there any more of that wine? I'll answer questions for wine." Hawke smiled wide at him.
"I do, and I think this is a worthy cause to give up a bottle for." It was a few moments before Fenris returned, but as soon as he had handed over the bottle he wasted no time, "Where were you captured, and by whom?"
"In a battle on Seheron, I was the only human among the ranks, so I was a rather large target, apparently Qunari slaves are far harder to control. I was only 18, the Qun sees no age, only whether you are fit for battle, the younger the better though, right?"
"You, you were a slave?" This seemed very odd to Fenris, almost as though it were too perfect. She was slave? And she was a part of the only non-mage people he had ever had any real knowledge of?
"Oh, don't look so shocked, there are more escaped slaves out there than you'd think. That's why there are so many bounty hunters. Besides, I wasn't a slave very long. I had a disobedient streak, I bowed to nothing but the Qun, now I bow to no one but myself." She smiled inwardly.
"Why can't you go back? Surviving wounds grave enough to cause capture would be something honored, not shunned. I am not surprised you were a warrior though, even if you are a woman, you are not of the kossith race. Did you lose your blade?"
"No, far worse, I lost my mage." Hawke laughed, a sweet, low laugh.
"You were arvaarad? That is... honorable."
"And ironic. At least that's what the slavers told me. I controlled mages only to be ruled by one, well, several, I bounced around."
It was Fenris's turn to laugh, "Do you still speak the language?"
"Of course, but, at the same time, no, I don't. It was, forced out of me, for lack of a better term. I was not allowed to speak it."
"Oh, I understand." And Fenris did, all too well, "Do you think you ever will again?"
"Maybe," Hawke mused, "I still think with Qunari words, but it is in pieces, it would be quite the interesting endeavor."
"You should try."
"I think I will, do you speak any? Living so close to them you must have picked something."
"I do, quite a bit, actually. Danarius dealt with Qunari often, I suppose that is why I was skeptical when you first said that you were once of the Qun, you do not act it."
"I learned of a world outside the Qun, and I like it much more."
"Wait," Fenris stopped, noticing quite the hole in her story, "where does your sister fit into all this?"
"She- She was not my sister by blood, unlike you, I was not strong enough to escape the Imperium on my own. My fourth master refused to give up on me, so I stayed with him for some time, I met two other slave women, both mages, and we escaped together. Bethany was one of them. They were the first two people to show me the world beyond the militaristic discipline of the Qun." Hawke explained, her face masking some secret sorrow.
"Did your fourth master give you your name? The Qun would have just called you Arvaarad."
"No, actually, they quite liked calling me Arvaarad. I took the name from Bethany's family, we went to stay with them after we escaped." Hawke looked down and shook her head, "It was their family name."
"You must have respected them. What about Isabela then?"
"I did. Oh, she and I are not 'together'. Varric only hinted that to be cruel, he likes jokes." Hawke quickly spoke.
"I was just going to ask how you met her, but, that is good to know, too."
"Ah, I feel kind of silly now. Oh well!" Hawke dismissed her hasty mistake, "After two years with the women I came to know as sisters, we, uh, we ran into trouble again. Isabela found Bethany and I waist-deep in the guts of bounty hunters, quite like the ones we fought yesterday, but far more numerous. We were in Minrathous, it was not our first encounter with them, but it was the last."
"Why in the world would you go to Minrathous, the heart of the Imperium, when you were running from bounty hunters?" Fenris asked, incredulous.
"We weren't running from them, we were running towards them, but, that is a story for another time."
"I do not understand you, but I suppose not many do. I have to admit, your Qunari background does explain your bluntness, at the very least. Did your 'running towards' them have anything to do with the other woman?"
"No, she is dead, or at least we assumed so. I would prefer not to talk about it any more though, I have an appointment to keep with a tall glass bottle." Hawke smiled and stood.
"It was good getting to know you, Hawke, I think it will be easier to work with you knowing more about you." Fenris nodded to her as she turned to leave.
"As it is with you. And don't you dare tell anyone else we had this long, drawn-out conversation. Isabela is the only one that knows that even knows where I'm from." Hawke warned.
"Varric hasn't ferreted it out by now? He seems the nosy type."
Hawke laughed yet again, "Panahedan, Fenris."
A/N: Alright, I'm usually pretty confident in my writing, but I'm taking a big leap with this one, I hope it worked. If it didn't, please tell me, I don't want to write anything that no one likes. (I won't take it personally.) I've purposely left out information (there has to be plot twists!), such as who Malcom is (and yes, that is after who you think it is) and who the other woman was. And don't worry, it's not going to be all about Qunari, in fact, there won't be a whole lot of focus on it after this, there might be one chapter dealing with the end of Act 2 though. If you liked it, tell me that too! This is obviously not going to go by the game's story, because the relic was never found, which means no super-crazy Meredith. Since there was no fleeing from Lothering, there was also no amulet, which means no Merril, but she may make an appearance if I find a place. And sorry for my super long Author's Notes, I just can't stop talking. Oh, and I really need a beta, my little mistakes are making me RAGE. Message me about it if you're interested. :)