Prompt: Quark was having a bad day

Originally Written: 6/17/2014

Notes: written entirely in gchat (again) late at night, hence the lack of capitalization. if it bothers you, just pretend you're reading a chat transcript. if you're one of those people who has clung to the rules of proper grammar even while chatting, i salute you, and apologize for being one of the fallen.

once upon a time fenris was brooding away in his mansion when there was a cheerful knock on the door. he thought it was a bit odd that hawke was bothering to knock but it was far too cheerful to be donnic, whose knocks were more good-natured, and the only other people who came to the mansion were isabela, who would just as soon swing in through the window, and...well, no, just isabela.

so it had to be hawke, so he got up from the darkest corner at the back of the house and skulked his way across the house, only to find hawke in his front hall, with a...thing.

"you were taking too long," she said by way of greeting, "so i just came in."

"what," fenris asked, "is that."

"this?" hawke said, brandishing it at him. he managed not to flinch. "it's my newest mage staff. i thought i'd test it out on you."

fenris eyed her.

"just kidding," she said. "it's a broom."

"i can see that," he said, because it was certainly broom-shaped, but with mages one could never be sure. "why have you brought a broom?"

"because," she said, "i've been feeling the urge to do some cleaning, but between orana and sandal the estate hasn't even the tiniest mote of dust."

"i've seen plenty of dust motes floating in the sunlight coming through the windows there," fenris noted.

"and so," hawke continued, pointedly ignoring him, "i was sitting there, feeling useless, when i remembered this wretched place, and so i came over to help."

"help what?"

"tidy the place up, of course."

"hawke," fenris said patiently, "i've lived like this for six to ten years, give or take."

"i know. it's an abomination." she paused, and then added, "metaphorically speaking, i don't mean to say that your house is possessed."

"hawke-"

"so anyway, i am going to sweep." she brandished the broom again, looked around the dimly lit hall, the corpses she'd long ago charmed to keep from decomposing, the cobwebs whose inhabitants might just drop down from the ceiling and try to kill her, they'd been there so long. "first, some light."

fenris watched helplessly as she suddenly began dancing around the corpses, humming and flinging little mage lights into the air as she went. "there," she said, apparently satisfied that she could now see every hint of filth that he'd been trying to hide behind "mood lighting" for as long as possible.

"now," she said, and suddenly out of nowhere she produced another broom, which she shoved into his hands, "we sweep."

"we?" he said, but the look she gave him was so ferocious that he gave in and began half-heartedly batting at a particularly thick cobweb. hawke continued humming as she started in on the layer of dust covering the floor with was much ferocity as she'd previously directed at him.

it wasn't half-bad, fenris had to admit, though his broom was turning into a giant cobweb itself. he didn't really mind, as half his mind was unconsciously occupied with picking up the thread of hawke's hum tuned, and the other half was quite consciously occupied with covertly spying on her as her broom encountered the first corpse. she tried a little sweeping motion, and then a gentle nudge, and then turning her broom around and poking it with the handle, and she was just about to kick it when fenris said, "i'll take care of it."

"will you?" she said archly, but he abandoned his broom to the cobweb (into which it disappeared, possibly never to return) and bent down and hefted the corpse-oddly heavy, given how long it had been there-over his shoulder.

"where are you going?" hawke asked as he headed towards the door.

"...to deposit it outside?"

"fenris," hawke said, completely horrified, "you cannot leave corpses on your doorstep."

"well where else am i supposed to put them?" fenris huffed. this was why he hadn't bothered moving them in the first place. also, he didn't care how strong hawke's magic was, this close he was pretty sure the thing smelled, at least a little.

"i...i don't know," hawke said. "a nice back alley? the nearest drainage ditch?" she paused, tapping the end of her broom handle against her chin as if she'd already forgotten she'd just been using it to shove a dead man. "maybe the guard has some sort of corpse collection agency?"

"i'm pretty sure they collect the corpses and the murderers at the same time."

"oh, come now, it's been years, like you said!" she said. "aveline couldn't possibly persecute you-"

"aveline was there when it happened."

"well," hawke said, "true. drainage ditch it is, i think."

fenris didn't try to tell her that he didn't know where the nearest drainage ditch was, nor that he had no intention of dragging a dead man over his shoulder while trying to find one. "there's one out back, i think," he said, resolving to hide them in the cellar.

"oh?" hawke said, excited, though he couldn't guess why. "i'll come along, you've never let me see your courtyard."

"ah," fenris said, beginning to grow uncomfortable under the corpse's weight, "it's, ah. overgrown."

"then we can fix it together!" hawke said, clapping her hands. "i've done so much work with the garden at the estate, i have plenty of cuttings we can try, what kind of sun-"

"hawke," fenris said, trying to resist the charming thought of watching hawke garden in his courtyard, "it's a bit late for that. tonight."

"oh," she said, deflating in a way that pierced him as sharply as his blade had pierced the corpse over his shoulder. "you're right."

"but perhaps tomorrow," he said immediately, starting to reach for her but stopping sort when the corpse started slipping. "in the morning, you could come look at it?"

hawke beamed at him, looking as though she'd throw her arms around him if it weren't for, well, you know. "absolutely!" she said. "and just imagine how nice it will be, coming in through a nice clean entry hall-"

"yes," he said, "i'm going to go dispose of this corpse now."

"yes, yes," she said, already distracted by the dust collecting around the sconces. "please do."

he spent the next several minutes ferrying corpses to the cellar, returning to the front hall each time to find hawke having made miraculous progress on the disaster that was his front hall. once he came back to discover she'd lined up two armies of dust bunnies and was busy talking strategy with one side-something about flanking and holding the line at all costs. he edged past her, and in the midst of her speech she reached up and caught his hand, just for a moment, and as he startled he saw the curve of her smile out of the corner of his eye. he grabbed another corpse and hefted it to hide his blush, edging back out even more carefully in order to avoid brushing her hair with the corpse's hand.

he returned to find the ruined battlefield-or scrubbed floor tiles, depending on your point of view-being prayed over, as what appeared to be a small bonfire made entirely of cobwebs and dust burned in the corner.

"For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light, and nothing that He has wrought shall be-oh, you're back," hawke said, dropping her hands to her side. "what do you think?"

the mage lights, rather than weakly peeking around the dust motes choking the air, now sparkled gaily off the marbled tile he hadn't even realize he had, haloing around their mistress's hair as she anxiously awaited his verdict. "it's very..." he trailed off, distracted by her eager gaze, the enthusiasm with which she practically vibrated. "lively."

"well, yes," hawke said. "that's what happens when you clear a hall of dead men. what happened to your broom?"

"i think it's on the pyre," he said, considering the flames. "i believe the cobwebs won that particular skirmish."

"ah," she said, looking at him as though she suspected he hadn't tried his hardest. he tried not to squirm, reminded himself she wasn't a blood mage and had no way of reading his mind and finding out about the corpses in the cellar. "blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter."

"it was a broom."

"who clearly deserved a better fate," she said. "you know, i haven't seen any actual spiders. are you sure they're not lurking in the ceiling?"

"quite," he said. "it is lovely, hawke."

hawke, caught looking at the ceiling with suspicion, darted a glance at him, surprised and glad and-relieved. "you're welcome, fenris," she said. his lips curved in a smile, looking at her, and after a moment she dropped his gaze again, looking at the floor, the lights, her cheeks turning a fetching shade of red. "we should," she began, glancing at him, "um, celebrate."

"yes," he agreed, stepping towards her.

"with a bottle of wine?" she suggested, looking up at him, cheeks still red, biting her lip-on purpose, he was sure, but she was doing a damn good job of pretending.

"ye-no," he said, barely remembering the corpses in time. "no. er, not tonight. it's...late."

"that's never stopped you before," hawke said, laughing, but her eyes narrowed. "what are you hiding?"

fenris debated kissing her-determined it would only increase her suspicion-settled for saying, "a very dirty dining room."

"oh," hawke said, sufficiently distracted. "that is very true."

"indeed," he said, reaching forward and brushing his fingers against hers, barely smiling again as she inhaled sharply. "so perhaps instead we ought-"

"clean it too!" hawke said, skipping backwards and smirking at his half-opened mouth. "now come, we need to find you another broom. do you think there's one in the cellar?"

"i-"

"let's find out!" she said, clapping her hands, her eyes promising that she was going to find out his every secret and make him pay for keeping them from her. "come on," she said, reaching for his hand, kissing him on the cheek as he reluctantly followed, "it will be fun."

"fun," he sighed, tangling his fingers with hers, half his mind occupied with coming up with further distractions from the cellar, the other half utterly content. "it always is."

FIN