Sooooo... it's been a long time since I walked away from this one. To be honest I think I lost sight of what I wanted to do with it. But hopefully this revisit will be a bit more successful!
Thank you for taking the time to read my new chapter, please read and review :)
...
"So will you help us or not?" Hawke repeated for what felt like the tenth time.
The thug opposite did not answer, instead he kept her fixed with his steely gaze whilst taking another sip from the tankard they had furnished him with and licked his lips… in what she assumed was meant to be a seductive manner. Hawke grunted taking a drink from her own, nearly slamming it down in irritation. It was difficult not to let her temper win out, her friends were in trouble… but she wasn't sure that the idiot opposite her was even listening. She gave an angry look to the dwarf beside her who didn't seem phased in the slightest. Rather he smiled cheerily back at her. Thankfully, The Hanged Man was quiet tonight, she didn't much like the idea of gossip about the Champion of Kirkwall and the leering letch sitting with her. In fact, she didn't much like the idea of him sitting with her at all.
"You know you're a very attractive woman." The dark haired man opposite suddenly drawled. "How much?"
Hawke felt the anger rise. Even Varric lost his smile and now wore a wide eyed look of shock. "How much what?" She barked, "How much beauty sleep do I get? How much do I like my ale? How much do I enjoy beating the crap out of dim-witted…"
"As discussed," the merchant cut in eagerly, "if you take us up on our little… endeavour… we would pay you ten gold coins. So how about it, my fine friend?"
The look the man gave her made her beyond doubt that that had not been the response he'd been after, but he shrugged. "You're trying to find Isabella, so is Castillon. Don't see how it's in my best interests to find her for you." He gave her a meaningful look. "Unless you make it worth my while."
Hawke did not doubt that the colour of her cheeks was probably now the same shade as her blood red tunic. Maker how she wanted to punch him. "Varric, can I speak to you for a moment?" She shot him another glare, making her beardless companion aware that she was not asking.
He smiled pleasantly at her, making the swordswoman wonder just how much he was enjoying this. "We will be but a moment, good sir."
She waited till they were out of ear shot before hissing at him. "Varric… why him?"
He blinked, feigning offense. "Why not him?"
"He's not even listening."
"Clearly he's distracted by the view…"
"He's an idiot…"
"Your words Hawke, were 'find someone more stupid than he looks'."
The blonde glanced back over to the table, to see their new companion picking his nose and staring in to the contents of his pint. "Can he be more stupid than he looks?"
The merchant shook his head a little, though Hawke could still see the traces of his smile. "Not important, he's stupid, he works for Castillon…"
"He's looking at me like I'm a piece of meat…"
"Well, I'm not going to lie Hawke, you could stand to be a little more flirtatious…" The look she gave him made him take pause, though not for long. "I'm just saying, we're trying to get him to do a job for us… we're not trying to make his balls crawl back up in to his body."
She folded her arms sternly. "Think of something else."
Varric tutted, though his smirk had returned. "Fine fine… honestly Hawke, I didn't realise you were such a prude…" Before she could retaliate, he had ducked passed her and shuffled back to the table. Leaving her standing alone, red faced and angry.
She hissed the irritation out before rejoining the men at the table. His eyes met hers as she sat down.
"We've just had a chat Declan…"
"Dylan." He corrected.
"Well Dylan, we've decided to let you in on a little secret…" Hawke tried to mask her confusion. "Isabella stole something from us, something very valuable." That got Dylan's attention, his eyes finally and thankfully no longer roaming her figure, but now set unwaveringly on the dwarf. "If you help us, we'll split the reward with you."
The man licked his lips. "How much are we talking?"
The merchant leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands to rest behind his head. He smiled. "Well that depends on how fast we find it, doesn't it?"
"What is this… thing she stole from you?"
Varric smiled up at the bar maid as she placed three more tankards on the table. He waited until she had gone before continuing. "If we tell you, you cannot tell a soul." Dylan nodded slowly. Varric took a long drink before answering, the 'suspense' weighing heavily in the air. Well it was for Dylan. Hawke fought the urge to roll her eyes as she attended her own drink. "It's a stone… of immortality." Hawke nearly spat out her ale as Dylan's eyes gleamed.
"Varric…" She growled sternly, although she knew that there was little she could do now to cut off the merchant's ridiculous story.
"We came across it in the Deep Roads… a treasure so beautiful it made scholars of old weep. It gleams like the morning sun across the sunset. Our buyer is a Tevinter maid, she has only just been wed to her beloved when he was gravely injured and lives on borrowed time. So you see, my friend, she is willing to pay any price… if we find it quickly."
"I see. Immortality… If I help you find the bitch, I get to give her to Castillon?"
"Absolutely…"
"But you'll still cut me in?"
"My friend, would I lie to you?"
Dylan nodded. "I'll find her, dwarf." He downed the rest of his pint before looking at her as he set down his tankard. "Of course, if your friend here should want to distract me…"
"I'd rather let two hurlocks invite their ogre friend to a gang bang." She snapped tersely.
She was rewarded with a look of utter confusion from Dylan, obviously trying to make sense of her comment. After a few moments he observed her with a look of disappointment. "Your loss."
"Oh I really don't think it is." She muttered as he turned to leave. She waited until the door had shut behind him before turning to her dwarven companion, her irritation writ across her features.
He pretended that he hadn't noticed her staring a few minutes before looking at her wide eyed. "What?" He asked innocently.
"Immortality?!" She hissed. "Why didn't you just come up with something more ridiculous like it was a fucking unicorn horn?"
"Don't be ridiculous Hawke, everyone knows unicorn's don't…"
"Neither do immortality stones!"
"Well Dylan certainly didn't seem to know that."
"It gleams like the morning sun across the sunset?"
"You've got to admit Hawke, that paints a pretty picture…"
"… it doesn't make any sense!"
"Stories need 'grab' not 'sense'."
"And has it occurred to you that he's going to go straight to Castillon with this 'information'?"
Varric chuckled, and in a strange way Hawke found it oddly reassuring. "My dear Hawke, why would he do that, hmmm? I've given him the… opportunity… to play both sides. Men like Castillon don't exactly inspire loyalty, you know."
Hawke sighed. She knew Varric spoke truth. Through her various encounters with the group of thugs, she had noticed two traits in Castillon's men… greed and cruelty. And as much as she had found Dylan's behaviour beyond irritating, he did not seem cruel. She was pulled from her reverie when Varric stiffened in his chair. However, if something was wrong, the moment faded as quickly as it had come. The merchant patted her shoulder as if sensing her unease. "We'll get them back, Hawke. We always do. The plan is solid... confusing and multi-faceted but solid. Now, why don't you take these drinks to my room, I've just got… something to attend to."
Her eyebrow arched in question. "It better not be Donna…"
"It's not Donna." Varric almost cut her off before she had finished the sentence, sensing the quip well in advance. Hawke rolled her eyes, collected the tankards and made her way to the dwarf's chambers. In truth she was somewhat grateful for the suggestion. A chill seemed to have settled upon Kirkwall recently, and she recalled Varric's room having a fire grate. She set the tankards down and shut the door. The fire was already lit, but the swordswoman couldn't resist the urge to throw another few pieces of wood in to the flame. She settled in to one of the chairs and closed her eyes, taking in the warmth.
You know you've got a perfectly good fire at home? She chastised herself.
I do, and no one to share it with.
She felt a burning in her eyes as she opened them, and as much as she could try and convince herself that it was the heat from the fire, she knew she was lying to herself.
She wasn't sure what warmth the fire would provide without Leandra there to tend to it. The house always felt cold now… and she knew it wasn't just the change in season.
…..
Fenris turned to face Varric when the door opened, he accepted the mug handed to him. "Bit of a chill, Elf, don't want you getting cold."
Fenris smirked, "I am curious that your solution for this is 'rum' and not more clothing." Though Varric noticed he took a drink all the same.
"Well, The Hanged Man only sells one 'solution' so my hands are tied, my broody friend." He took a sip from his own cup before continuing. "Did you find her?"
"I did."
"…and?"
"She's meeting me here."
"You've been here a while then?"
"Somewhat.
"Well you're in a chatty mood. Something on your mind, Elf?"
The expression Fenris wore when he looked to his friend suddenly made Varric realise what the topic of conversation was about to be. "It was hard for me."
"Well you found her eventually…"
"I meant Hawke. Watching him staring at her like some…"
"You're upset because someone finds Hawke attractive. I would have thought that would be something you would relate to?"
"I never stared at her like that."
"Maybe that's why it took Hawke so long to notice?"
The swordsman grunted. "You're not helping."
"Maybe that's because we've had this conversation so many times I've run out of things to say? Look Elf, why can't you just talk to her about it?"
"You know why I can't…"
"Yes yes, I remember… lunacy about visions... and old masters… and Leto… and Hawke getting caught in the middle… tragic back story blah blah… do tell me if I've left anything out."
There was a heavy moment of silence. "I don't know why I tell you these things sometimes."
"Because, Elf, who else could you tell? The only other person you'd even want to tell you've spent all night looking at through a window because you're scared of losing her."
Another swollen silence. "You have a talent for taking my biggest fears and making them sound ridiculous."
"Well if you're looking for someone trustworthy to tell, I've got two working ears." A gentle voice purred from the shadows.
It was with some irritation that Varric realised Fenris was smirking at him. It was rare for someone to be able to sneak up on the merchant, but how Fenris had known she was there he didn't know.
"I was starting to think you wouldn't show." Fenris replied, making his way to the blackened alley.
"Quality takes time, Sweetness, and breaking in to the Gallows necessitates quality. Who is your friend?" Her tone took on a decidedly hard edge as her attention turned to Varric.
"He can be trusted to be discreet." Fenris assured, "though his intelligence is not as assured."
Varric scowled as the soft voice laughed. She pushed herself forward, the shadows still clinging to her, but he could make out some of her features. More pointed than Fenris', and harsher than Merril's, but he could not call her unpleasant to look at. She had the traces of a smile on her lips, though it was most certainly not a warm one. She handed the stone back to Fenris who tucked it out of sight immediately. "I found the one called Bethany as you asked. She is unsure as to what it is exactly. She said she will continue to work. I will return to check her progress in a few days. I am told she took sufficient notes for her research."
"Shadow, isn't it?" Varric cut in, now thoroughly fed up with being ignored. "I've heard exemplary tales of your skills, my dear."
"For both our sakes, I hope not." She fixed him with an icy glare.
"Thank you for your assistance, Ebony. If you hear anything else, you know where I am." Fenris turned away from her as if making to leave.
"Still pissing about in your Manor? You know, Sweetness, if you wanted to see my abode, I'd be happy to give you a tour."
Fenris cleared his throat and Varric smirked, imagining the blush that his friend was likely to be fighting. "I imagine that would compromise your anonymity." He offered bluntly.
"You know my name already. But it's up to you. I'll be in touch."
As swiftly as the woman had inserted herself in to their conversation, she seemed to fade away just as seamlessly.
Varric looked up to his companion, now looking almost wistfully at the door to The Hanged Man. "So, Sweetness, fancy a drink?"
The scowl was clear even in the dim light. "She has always spoken to me like that, I'm not sure why."
"I think you do know why."
Fenris grunted. "Where's Hawke?"
"My chambers, by the fire if she has any sense. Honestly, if she thinks I didn't notice her shivering…"
"I am surprised she stayed inside. I would have thought she would want to ask after Bethany."
"She doesn't know you're here."
"…why? Getting Bethany to assess the stone was her idea."
"Because I didn't tell her."
"…why?"
"Because, Elf, how do you think she would react to the knowledge that you've been staring at her from outside all night?"
"…that is a good point."
"But now you can go in, tell her Bethany's doing fine, let her know we've got the stone back… you see where I'm going with this, right?"
Fenris rolled his eyes. "You know how to complicate things, dwarf."
"I'm not taking that from you!"
…
"Well, I guess she did enjoy the fire." Varric smiled, looking at the sleeping woman.
Fenris couldn't hide his smile either. He could be forgiven for thinking she was only resting her eyes, the only indication she was in fact asleep, were the light rumbles from her chest and the slight tilt of her head.
Varric leant in to inspect closer, making the elf wonder what the merchant was planning. Much to his relief, however, the dwarf sighed and tutted. "If I didn't know better, I'd say our dear Hawke is burning the candle at both ends… and is now somewhat singed."
She looked small out of her armour, not the way he thought of her. He was used to the sunlight in her hair, her chin up as she moved forward, always forward. And all he seemed to be able to do was watch her back, as she pushed onwards. Not that he had ever minded. He was happy there, knowing that he was doing something for her, even if he couldn't be there for her the way he truly wanted to be.
But looking at her now, she seemed shrunken beneath the blanket upon her. The largest thing about her the shadows cast from the fire, a fitting darkness, he thought, for what she must be feeling since Leandra's death. He would be lying if he tried to convince himself he had not seen the pain she wore. He had gone to her afterwards, of course, he had seen her tears, although he doubted he had provided much comfort.
"That is hardly a recent development." He tried to turn away from her.
Varric laughed softly. "True. But there's only so long you can stay alight before you fade. Let's give her some time to sleep." He opened the door and gestured for the swordsman to go through it. They found a free table with relative ease and the drinks arrived swiftly.
"I wonder how long this cess pit would stay open without us spending our gold here." Fenris sighed.
Varric chortled. "What the hell do you order here that requires gold?"
"When you and Isabella order a round… that requires gold."
"Fair fair, Elf. So… Sweetness, how do you know our new skulking friend, Shadow?"
Fenris took a drink before answering, not caring for the question. "I'm not sure what you want me to say. Ebony came across from Ferelden with the refugees, seeking to escape her master. Only her master pursued, seeking his weapon to be restored to him. She sought me out, having learned of my own past. I was her eyes and ears in High Town, she is mine on the docks."
"Sounds like you've got a lot in common…?"
"Indeed. Servitude and misery. I cannot say it makes for the most stirring conversations."
"Heh, fair. But it's not exactly like you've been having 'stirring' conversations with Hawke either…"
"… that's different."
"How?"
"I don't know what to say to her. I see a pain in her, a sadness that makes me ache." He took a long drink. "I want to take it away, Varric, to help her look forward again. But I know I cannot do that. How can I help her move forward when all I do is look to my past? What am I supposed to say…?"
"I imagine something exactly like what you just said to me…" The merchant grunted. "Look Elf, Hawke doesn't need someone to 'fix' her, she needs someone to help her pick up what's broken."
"How can I do that when I'm standing in the shards of myself?"
"Perhaps you can make something new with the pieces you both have?" The dwarf shrugged. "Just a suggestion, Elf. Anyway, are you ready for tomorrow?"
"Forgive me for not being overly concerned. It is not the first time we have defeated the Flint Company."
"They didn't have hostages before…"
"If I know Isabella, they'll be trying to give her back before daybreak."
Varric laughed. He twisted in his chair to observe the figure approaching. "Hawke, how's our resident sleeping beauty?"
"Awake." She grunted, slumping on to the bench beside Fenris. He felt himself tense slightly as she brushed against him. "Any news?"
"Bethany is looking in to the stone…" Varric offered, "and you snore."
Hawke's eyebrow jumped up her forehead. "Not helpful. And is Bethany alright?"
"Seems to be… apparently she was taking notes so I'll wager she's happy for the distraction."
Hawke nodded. "Good." Thought Fenris sensed a twinge of sadness in her voice. "Good." She said again, almost wistfully. "Anyway, we'd better be ready for tomorrow. I think I shall call it a night." She took Varric's mug from in front of him and drained its contents, replying his scowl with a cheeky smile. "Good night."
"My drink." Varric said simply.
"You'll get another."
"Well that's not…"
"Dwarf, you live in a bar." Fenris tossed a coin on to the table before making a move to follow Hawke. She looked at him a little surprised, her green eyes widening.
"… you're coming with me?"
"You don't have your armour and we live close to one another. Yes I'm coming with you."
"Oh… good…"
"Is that a problem?" He asked, eyebrow arched, although the truth was he was trying to mask the smile at her awkward expression.
"….No."
"Well then it's settled." He shifted the sword at his back to a more comfortable position and waved farewell to the dwarf.
The relative warmth of The Hanged Man made the night air all the more refreshing, though he noticed Hawke wrap her arms around herself in a bid for heat. He fought the urge to offer his own as further comfort but he stopped himself. Now was not the time, and he had no right.
They walked in a silence punctuated by her sighs and grunts. "Was it always this far?" She huffed out eventually.
Fenris could not hold back the laughter. "I know… it's almost like you're exhausted."
She rolled her eyes but kept up with him. "Since when were you so energetic at this time of night."
"It has been known to happen…" He smirked, though he cursed himself when he realised how his comment could be taken.
"I recall." She retorted, almost grumpily.
They fell back into their silence. Hawke probably nursing the idea of sleep, he into his thoughts. How long ago had that night been? Not that the length of time affected his memory in any way. He remembered it all, every detail as clearly as if it had happened moments ago. The softness of her skin, the sweat that glistened on her body, the way her fingers had run through his hair, the sweet taste of her kiss. He remembered the sensation of her breath on his shoulder, the tickle on his fingers as he brushed her hair out of her face, the excitement, the longing, the need to be one with her flooding his every sense.
He was pulled from his thoughts when Hawke came to a halt, and he felt something else flood him. A wave of affection and empathy.
She stood staring at the darkened house, with those same wide eyes she had looked at him with when Leandra died. "This is me." She said, though she made no move.
"Try and get some rest, Hawke." He again fought the urge to pull her close. Instead, he turned away to move towards his own empty home.
He was surprised when he felt her hand reach out and grasp his arm. He looked at her, and she looked at him. "Hawke."
"Fenris."
Even with the distance between them, under her gaze, with her touch, she was more warmth than any house could ever provide. She was his home.
A brusque movement in the shadows behind her caught Fenris' attention, yet just as he hadn't seen the source, he knew instinctively who it was. Ebony.
Hawke seemed to have taken his brief distraction to have thought better of… whatever it was she was thinking. "You too, sleep well Fenris." She turned swiftly, disappearing in to the gloom of her mansion, and no doubt into her solitude.
Cursing, he made his way to where his fellow elf and ex-slave stood. "Am I interrupting?" Came the sarcastic voice. He noticed the coldness in her voice.
"Nothing of import. Can I help you with something?" The swordsman asked wearily.
"Just to let you know I've heard some information, specifically about the Flint Company and your girlfriend over there."
"What is it?"
"Apparently they're quite interested in your blonde friend… their leader has somewhat of a … soft spot for her."
Fenris felt his stomach turn. "Is that so?"
"You should also know that your meeting tomorrow is a trap."
"We were already working under that assumption…"
"One more thing," Ebony sniffed, clearly irritated by something, though whether it was seeing him and Hawke in their tender moment or her information being dismissed, he couldn't say. "There's a woman with them, Ija…" The look on Ebony's face when she said that name made Fenris take pause. A look of pure fear, Fenris had seen many people wear it… but never her. "That woman… she's evil…"
"Evil?" Fenris queried, the way she had said it had set him on edge.
"You don't know what 'evil' means?" She snapped back.
"I've told you what my former master did to me… what he made me do. It's not a concept unknown to me. But I know that evil comes in many forms… how is she evil?"
"I've seen the things she's done to people. Her own men… no one should die like that."
"A little hypocritical from an ex assassin, perhaps?"
She shot him a filthy look. "I did what I had to. Ija likes it, Fenris. She likes causing pain, seeing fear, assessing the outcome of her handiwork. And as much as her leader may have designs on that blonde I've seen you watching so often, Ija is equally determined your friend won't live to see what he plans for her."
Fenris frowned. Whoever this Ija woman was, she would have to get through him before so much as scowling at Hawke. But there was something else making him uneasy. "How do you know this?"
If Ebony could have gone any whiter, Fenris was sure that she would have done. "I told you…"
"Enough games. You speak as if you have seen this woman commit these crimes. And I refuse to believe you've overheard all of this in some tavern."
She sighed heavily. "Because I used to work for them, Fenris. And I am telling you now, you need to take anything you hold dear and run with it. Because with Ija, it's not a matter of 'if' she kills you but 'how'."
"You used to work for the Flint Company?"
"I needed money, and generally people like them have people they want dead."
"Why didn't you say anything sooner?"
"I don't owe you anything. We help each other, but I don't need your permission to take work."
"Are you still known to them?"
"...They approached me about a job after I'd spoken to you…" She admitted, although Fenris could tell it was with some reluctance.
"Did you take it?"
"Given that Ija is here and I would be fighting against you? No, I told them I'm busy."
"I need you to take that job... I need a favour."
"Another one? What's in it for me?"
"The chance for a fresh start. And if you are truly the same as me, that is something you will take with both hands."
"… I'm listening."
