The night Hawke escaped an assassination attempt by The Crows, Fenris had vowed that he was not leaving her side again. He trusted the majority of their companions to keep her safe in his absence should he have to leave (Anders being the exception), but he did not trust The Crows. They were cunning, they were dangerous, and he had dealt with them before. Tevinter, like the other kingdoms of Thedas, was no stranger to employing The Crows when they wanted a particularly troublesome individual gone. Denarius had been on both sides of a Crow contract…and Fenris had been the one to stop them the times his master had been on the receiving end. He had killed many would-be assassins, and killed many who hired them. He was a bodyguard. It was what he was trained to do. His skill at avoiding and eliminating the best of the best had been physically beaten into every aspect of his existence to the point where he knew nothing else before that life began. The Antivan stranger was right…if a contract was made on Hawke's life, The Crows would stop at nothing to have it fulfilled. The guild was brutal. Failure was punished by death and every Crow knew that.
Much to Fenris's fury, Hawke knew the name of the person (or people) who had put a price on her head and absolutely refused to give it to him. She knew he would go after those who hired the assailants. She knew there would be no diplomacy and no mercy. She also knew The Crows and those who hired them were meticulous in covering their tracks. The order the shirtless elf had stolen off the bodies of the attackers that night had disintegrated into nothing having been written on water soluble parchment and exposed to the wet snow. Hawke knew that without evidence, Fenris striking first would be deemed murder in the eyes of Kirkwall law. Aveline could not advocate for him as her opinion would be disregarded as a conflict of interest, and the powers that be would be heavily inclined to rule against him simply because he was an elf…an elf who was not only from Tevinter, but had managed to claw himself out of the alienage to reside in High Town as the fiance of a wealthy and respected noblewoman. There was as much resentment and hostility among the Kirkwall elite towards Fenris as there was Hawke…if not more so some days. She did not want his few brief years of freedom to end at the noose. She did not want him to face the trauma of being chained once more as they brought him to a trial that was purely for show and had no actual merit to it. Until they had evidence, it was best he knew as little as possible.
Fenris stayed home, refusing to let Hawke out of his sight, constantly on edge and the most hypervigilant he had ever been. He carried his greatsword with him even through the house. He was always fully armored, and he slept in 45 minute increments throughout the day (if he slept at all). For two weeks, Fenris reverted back to the person he had been when Hawke met him, but with a vastly more intimidating demeanor. Yet despite the extreme sleep deprivation he somehow remained mostly pleasant in sight of company (Anders excluded), well mannered, and with her…exceedingly gentle. It was like a switch had flipped in his brain. This…made Hawke sick to her stomach. She knew what this was…this was Fenris the white wolf of Minrathos, Fenris the bodyguard…Fenris the slave.
Hawke tried her best to live life by two mantras. The first, was the Orlisian phrase "C'est la vie", directly translating to "such is life." It was her way of shrugging off the horrible things that happened to her, of rolling with the unexpected, and allowing the current of fate take her where it willed. She was anything but a control freak and would often let the chips fall where they may. While she was not a passenger on the ride of life, taking it by the reins and steering in the direction she desired, she also accepted change and complications as they came.
Her second mantra was one she coined herself, "Life is short. Don't be a dick." She was adamant about not making life harder than it needed to be for those who were undeserving. She knew better than most how quickly and unexpectedly the end could come for someone. The lack of a guaranteed tomorrow was always at the forefront of her mind. That is why, it was her personal goal in life to ensure that good people just trying to live their lives did not face any major inconvenience on her part. Furthermore, she made it her personal mission to greatly inconvenience anyone who felt entitled to making their lives easier and wealthier at the expense of those who were already disadvantaged.
Hawke could admit when she made a mistake, could take ownership of her own actions, but never had she ever regretted the way she lived…until now. Her two main philosophies in life were what had gotten her into this mess. She had believed the templar who struck her to be worthy of witnessing the great inconvenience she could cause when she deemed someone a "dick". Her "such is life" philosophy had allowed her to accept the consequence of that choice and shrug it off, trying to move on with her recovery as fast as possible. However, she hadn't realized how much those decisions…affected Fenris. He was her partner, not just on the battlefield, but in life. What happened to her affected him. She had a concept of how that worked before her injury…but now she saw and felt what that really meant. Their fates were intertwined now. She had selfishly unloaded the consequences of her own actions onto his plate. And now…undeserving of the burden but willingly shouldering it, he had slipped back into a version of himself that was born in the constant paranoia, anxiety, and terror that was his life as a slave.
The guilt she carried following this realization, was suffocating. When he slept, she sobbed silently in the other room, hoping he would not hear her sniffling and wake. She had tried to apologize and explain to him that he did not need to let the Crow contract weigh on him. She had tried to explain that she could see what this knowledge was doing to him, and where his behavior was stemming from…she was his fiance, not his former master…she did not need him to be her bodyguard. He had shook his head vehemently as she pleaded with him, taking her cheek into his cupped hand with anguished eyes…
"You are my fiance, not my master…and that is why I will never let down my guard until those who placed the contract are dead. All I need is a name."
And as she refused to give him the name, trying desperately to protect him from the noose, she had to live with the fact that not only did she cause him this anguish…but by holding her tongue…she was perpetuating it. And so…they were at an impasse. That is…until the Monday of the third week, when there was a pounding at the door.
It was just hardly dawn on what must have been the coldest day of the year. Outside the Hawke estate, the wind whipped and howled. The three solid pounds on the large oak door reverberated through the mansion above it all, solid, authoritative, and slightly menacing. Fenris was awake, on his feet, broadsword drawn, before his mind was even awake enough to understand what was happening. He cleared the fog of sleep from his eyes with a few quick blinks before sheathing his sword across his back and making his way down the stairs to the front entry. Orana, Bodhan and Sandal were still asleep, not that he minded. He would rather vet any visitors himself anyway. He knew that The Crows knew that the majority of targets wouldn't expect an assassin to knock. With some effort, Fenris wrenched the great door from the grasp of the winter wind, and blinked in astonishment at the party standing before him. There, in the midst of this horrendous squall, was Isabella with her hands planted seductively on her hip, skirts and earrings whipping in the wind. With her was the Antivan stranger that had rescued Hawke from The Crows two weeks prior (this time fully clothed), a Grey Warden archer dressed in full regalia (helmet and all), and a literal knight in shining armor carrying the colors of Ferelden's house Theirin…the royal family.
"Morning handsome." Isabella shouted over the wind, "Might we come in?"
He stared at her for a moment, genuinely considering slamming the door in her face, locking it, and blaming the wind on his inability to get it open again. He was already sleep deprived and paranoid, and he knew that Isabella always brought trouble. His face must not have been opaque as her face fell into an annoyed frown.
"Let me rephrase that." She shouted once more, "We are coming in." She pushed past him, and he let her. He was too tired to argue with her. While he may not have trusted her to play fair at cards, or to always tell the truth, he did trust her not to bring assassins into his beloved's home. Hawke had saved her ass on more than one occasion. Besides their friendship, she owed Hawke at least that much.
He gestured to the living area and offered his guests a place to sit. He threw an extra few logs on the fire and turned to face Isabella with his own look of annoyance. "Orana's not awake and I have no intention of making her work outside of her agreed upon hours. I'm assuming you're here for Hawke, so I'll go wake her. Otherwise, if you want refreshments for you and your party, you know where the kitchen is."
Isabella smirked, "Always a diligent host."
It was his turn to smirk, "Like you don't waltz in there and help yourself on the regular anyway."
Behind her, the Warden removed their helmet. It took everything in him not to gasp audibly in surprise. The Warden…was a woman. A young woman, not even Hawke's age. Her short stature and leaner frame should have been enough to signal that much. However, it was not that she was female that was so shocking to him. It was instead that she was a spitting image of his Hawke, with one major exception…she was blonde. The golden tresses pulled back into a haphazard bun beneath her helmet clung to her forehead and neck with the dampness of now melted snow that was so reminiscent of Hake's untamable mop after battle that it almost made him do a double take…almost. Once more, his face must have been far more readable than he would have liked as she smiled a mischievous and knowing smile.
"Maribel Cousland." She half laughed, " Warden Commander, Slayer of Archdemons, Ender of the Fifth Blight, Hero of Fereldan and…Aria Hawke's baby cousin."
"Second cousin." The Antivan corrected.
"Second cousin." She full on laughed this time, "On her mother's side." She offered her hand in greeting and Fenris shook it mechanically, still in awe at her likeness to his beloved.
"The…Amell genes are strong." He managed to croak.
"That they are." She giggled, "You must be Fenris. Aria has told me a great deal about you in her letters home."
The tips of his ears turned pink and he resisted the urge to look down at the floor.
Her face suddenly became deadly serious, "If we were meeting three years ago, you'd have a dagger through your eye by now for the heartbreak you caused her."
This time, he did avert his gaze…and winced.
"But…if she can forgive you…so can I." She smiled brightly, personality switching at the snap of fingers, "Now, if you could go fetch her for me, that would be greatly appreciated. We have a matter of family business to attend to."
Fenris nodded mutely, and headed up the stairs to wake Hawke.
It took longer than Aria would have liked to get up and get dressed. While she was more steady on her feet and moving considerably faster these days, her wound still ached horribly in the mornings, and she still needed help sitting up and getting out of bed. She wanted to throw on the nearest robe and race down the stairs without a care in the world. Her cousin was here! The cousin she hadn't seen in years, the cousin she thought had been slaughtered alongside the rest of the Couslands that fateful night, the cousin she had no idea was still alive until news of her ending the Fifth Blight came to Kirkwall. She wanted to jump from the balcony and tackle her in the most undignified and unladylike way that they had often greeted each other as children. She could hear the echoes of her dear aunt and mother scolding her from beyond the grave at even the thought of doing such a thing. But alas…her injuries would not allow her. And even if she was in a perfectly healthy state, there was a knight representing the King of Ferelden in her company. If she made a scene before such an important individual, her mother might do more than scold her from the grave…her spirit may manifest from The Fade as a full-on rage demon. Furthermore, her cousin was technically the highest ranking person among The Grey Warden order…which would be a problem if she threw herself from the balcony and landed in a way that injured herself (or her cousin) further, as the only healer she trusted…happened to also be on the run from The Wardens facing charges of dissertation. Hawke had written to her cousin weekly for years post-blight, sharing with her even the most intimate details of her life…but she always skillfully made sure to omit Anders.
By the time Hawke and Fenris descended the grand staircase and joined the group in the lounge, the tinges of early morning light had turned to dawn. Orana and Bodhan had already woken to start their daily routine and were caught very much off guard by the presence of guests so early in the morning…guests that Isabella had already taken the liberty of serving in their absence. Orana, for the most part, made herself scarce. Bodhan and Sandal however, were happily chatting away with the Warden Commander and the Antivan stranger, catching up as old friends. It warmed Hawke's heart at the sight, but also renewed the tinge of astonishment that had arisen the very first time her cousin had mentioned not only knowing, but also actively traveling with the two dwarfs as she acquired the troops necessary to end the Fifth Blight. That two dwarves so necessary in supplying The Wardens' troops with the goods needed to save the literal world, could then so quickly and unknowingly become members of a household belonging to their commander's cousin…had to be the work of The Maker. There was no doubting that for her.
When she and Fenris entered the lounge, Bodhan politely excused himself and Sandal, and it was finally Hawke's turn to greet the Warden Commander.
"Maribel!" Hawke cried in excitement as she half limped, half jogged, and threw herself into the arms of her cousin. Fenris reached for her with instinctive anxiety as her frail frame collided with The Warden's unforgiving steel armor. She let out a sharp cry and grasped at her wound, her legs giving out beneath her. Maribel caught her with ease, surprising strength concealed within her lean frame, and lowered her to sit in a nearby armchair as Fenris hovered tensely nearby.
"Herlock's balls, Aria!" The Warden cussed with exasperation, "What in the black city is wrong with you? I get that you haven't seen me in ages, but you know damn well that you're injured. Why are you throwing yourself at people!?"
"I got excited!" Aria hissed through the pain.
"Yeah well…" Maribel ran her fingers through her hair, "I guess I can't scold you too badly. If I was in your shoes I would have done the same. Injury be damned, that's my bloody cousin!"
Hawke chuckled as the pain eased. Fenris relaxed some and took his place standing beside Hawke's chair, one arm draped languidly over its high back. His position was casual, but still protective. Isabella was the first to call him out on this.
"You can have a seat, Fenris." She sighed exasperatedly, "If an assassin managed to break in, Zevran here would know before anyone would. He'd let us know."
Fenris shot her a glare, "I'd rather not. I live here. If I want to stand in the home I share with Hawke, I'll stand."
"Regarding The Crows," Maribel sighed, "That is actually why I am here."
Hawke looked at her, puzzled, "Do you have some kind of information?"
"Not quite…let me explain." Once more, Maribel ran her hand through her hair, a sign of stress that also mirrored her cousin as much as her appearance, " A few weeks ago, you were attacked in the streets. I know this because not only did you write me about it…but, Zevran did as well." She gestured to the Antivan elf, "In fact, he went into a great deal more detail about the incident than you did. You brushed it off as though being attacked by assassins was a commonplace issue. You made no mention of how your already existing injury had played into the event, how the assassins were Antivan Crows, how you got a concussion that night, how Zevran had to basically carry you home because your head was bleeding so badly…" She shook her head, anger creeping into her voice, "And you also failed to mention WHY you were a target. If you did not know why, fine…but you do…and you also know who made the contract. I know you know these things because Zevran told me that he told you. To be so much of a threat to someone else's political goals that they hire The Crows…That…takes talent…talent, I guess, that also comes from the Amell blood." She smirked, "I too have been on a hit list because I threatened someone's political agenda. I faced many assassins during that time, but The Crows were the worst of them. Under some guild masters, failure will get you executed. That is why they are relentless. The only way I escaped my contract was by challenging the one that hired the guild to a one on one duel before all of Denerim, beheading him, and exiling his kniving bitch of a daughter."
"That and sparing the life of the man who failed to kill you …eventually marrying him and somehow trusting that he wasn't just playing the long game." Zevran chimed in slyly.
"Loghain is dead. The contract is null the moment the one who initiates it dies. You'd have no reason to play a long game." She smirked.
"Ah, but it is I that told you how the contracts work, no? How do you know that was not all part of the deception?"
Maribel crossed her arms across her chest, "Keep at it and I'll take back my promise to allow you to settle your own affairs. I can easily have my squadron in the deep roads find the location of Nancio that you refuse to share with me. I owe that bastard an arrow in the skull not only for the horrors he put you through, but for even allowing a contract to be created on the lives of the only two Wardens in Ferelden during the peak of a blight. Not to mention the fact that one of those contracts was for the life of my homeland's now King…I am, afterall, very patriotic."
Zevran chuckled lightly, " What you mean to say is that you owe Alister more coin lost to cards than you are willing to pay. Also…that is assuming you could find Nancio."
"Last I checked, that and patriotism are one and the same."
"Hold on a moment!" Isabella interjected loudly, "When you told me you were going to write The Warden, you said just that…that you were going to "write The Warden," not that you were going to write your wife."
Zevran's face became serious, "There are more Crows in this city than to my liking, dear Isabella. Until Nancio is taken care of, it is bad enough that they know she and I are even friends. I'd prefer that the only Crow who's failed to kill her, is me, and that no other ever succeeds. Our relationship makes her a target in a way I am not willing to risk more than I already have. Tavern walls have ears. It is the same reason we kept our separate surnames for now."
Isabella pursed her lips and nodded understandingly, "So what…when this is all over we will have a Warden Commander Aranai? That's a shock."
Zevran smiled wryly, "Actually, it is I who will take her name. Zevran Cousland. The Couslands have all been wiped from existence. It is a way to continue their legacy. Also…Aranai is my guildmaster's surname. As I was purchased by the Crows as a boy, my surname was that of Nancio. A mark of my status as disposable property, and one I wish never to pass on. In fact, as soon as he is dead I will be glad to be rid of it."
Fenris's face softened with a profound sense of understanding. He had forgotten that The Crows had often purchased children from destitute families with too many mouths to feed, from struggling Orphanages with resources stretched thin and 'problem' children testing their limits…and from the neighboring Tevinter Imperium's all too thriving slave market. For all he knew, he was one auction away from becoming a Crow himself…a fate not much more favorable than the Lyrium etched in his skin. He did not know the elf's specific set of circumstances, but the sentiment of not having a name to pass on, of having one former master's mere existence threaten everything he held dear, and the profound peace that could be found in taking the name of another was something he understood with his very core. Afterall, with no surname of his own (that he could remember or identify with), one day when all was said and done, if she would still have him, he would become Fenris Hawke.
"That too, must be in the Amell Blood." He spoke softly, "Taking a man trained only to kill, and offering him a second chance and a safe place to land… a life where he is a master of his own destiny and belongs to no one but himself…and, unequivocally, her."
Zevran offered him a sad smile, "I thought that was an Imperium accent I detected when we spoke before.I am sorry, my friend… I agree with all you have said. We belong to no one but ourselves and our loves. That is why men like you and I can accept no less than the absolute best when it comes to keeping them safe. Despite…" he shot a playful glare in the direction of both Hawke and Maribel, "Their propensity to charge into trouble head on and with all cares to the wind. And yes…I am still upset about you jumping off a burning building onto the back of an Archdemon." he stated pointedly at Maribel who shrugged, "Anyway…" He continued, "With the help of Mi Amor, I have developed a plan to free our dear Lady Hawke of this contract. However, it will take true commitment to the plan by all parties here today to work as it should with as little risk as possible."
"What is this plan?" Hawke inquired skeptically, "If it involves Fenris in any way going after the commissioners of the contract, I will not allow that. With the way The Crows cover their tracks, any direct confrontation will get him into legal trouble. All here,including our knight friend I presume, are already privy to the knowledge that those who wish me dead are nobility here in Kirkwall who believe I pose a threat to their chances of becoming viscount. If they are attacked or killed and it somehow is traced back to him, he will be arrested, tried for murder, and hung. Kirkwall already takes issue with his appearance, his past, his race, and his affiliation with me. The elites are already looking for any reason to be rid of him." Fenris bristled at the her concern for him. He didn't care what the consequences were as long as she was safe.
"There is no risk of that." Maribel elaborated, "It will not be Fenris who will be tied to the killing blow. It will be me."
Hawke opened her mouth to protest, but her cousin cut her off, "I'm not done." She pulled a scroll from the satchel at her waist. It was sealed with the same symbol that adorned the knight still sitting silent and stoic among them, "This, is an order from His Majesty Alister Therin, King of Ferelden. Maker, I never get used to saying that. I helped Wynne mend his sodden socks for nugs sake…But that's besides the point. The point is, I called in a favor. Regardless of your status as Champion of Kirkwall, you are still at the end of the day a born Ferelden Citizen. Any crime you commit here in Kirkwall, via a Fereleden treaty made with the Free Marches ages ago, must be tried on Ferelden soil by a Ferelden court. Likewise, any crime committed against you, you have the right to have handled by Ferelden law. As Ferelden's sovereign ruler, King Alister has made the unilateral decision to allow a blood relative of yours to file an inquiry into a crime committed against you on your behalf due to your status as presently infirmed or disabled. As your blood relative, I took that opportunity and filed for you. Following an investigation into the letters you sent me in your own hand, as well as information provided by a Former Antivan Crow and the former interim spymaster of the Crown…" She gestured to Zeveran, "The crime of conspiracy to commit murder by hire, murder defined as the act of killing and not in reference to a group of crows, has been found by the Royal Ferelden Court to have been committed against one of its citizens. Therefore, according to Fereldan law, as the blood relative acting on your behalf while you are in a legally defined disabled state, I have the right to witness the arrest of those convicted of this crime. Which is where he comes in." She gestured to the knight sitting on the chair opposite them all, "Ser Erik is a knight of the Fereldan Royal Guard and is therefore authorized to make the arrest."
There was stunned silence for a moment as Hawke absorbed all of this new information, " That's all well and good…" She began.
"But any Kirkwall noble here in hightown who even gets a crumb of this story will inevitably find some reason or another to call it corruption and use it to start a war with , their arrest doesn't nullify the contract, only their death does." Fenris finished for her.
"That." Hawke nodded in agreement.
"I know." Maribel sighed, "Which is why, we only brought one knight. That way, when the assailants think we can be easily overwhelmed by our numbers, and make the call to either attack or have their personal security detail attack instead of facing arrest, we can strike them down in the name of defense. Furthermore, if it's me who kills them, it's not Ferelden's fault. It's The Wardens. Wardens have diplomatic immunity in most cases, and when they don't it is at the judgement of the Warden Commander to make the call. Unfortunately for them…I am the Warden Commander,"
"You're a Maker Damned genius…" Isabella whispered in awe.
Maribel smirked, "It wasn't dumb luck that took down an Archdemon. It was tact, Political subterfuge, and strategy."
"What I still don't understand though…" Hawke continued, "Is that Zevran said this would take the cooperation of all of us present. How do Isabella and Fenris fit into this?"
"Isabella," Zevran began, "Serves as the distraction from my dear Maribel. The family who hired The Crows have been keeping a close eye on the city. They have been careful and not staying in one place too long. As such, it is going to take me some time and surveillance to nail down a good time for Maribel and Ser Erik to go in for the arrest. The opportune moment if you will…However, both Mi Amor and myself being in the same city at the same time with so many of my former colleagues watching, especially my former guildmaster, puts her at considerable risk. We have worked hard to disguise our relationship to protect her from having even more of a target on her back. As such, I will be making a public display of spending time with dear Isabella. The Crows already know of our relationship as it was them who assigned me to kill her husband years ago. They also know she has a record of causing a fair amount of trouble on her own accord. As such, they will likely believe our relationship now is the same as it ever was before. Business, with the added perk of pleasure on the side. In this way, they will not stamp a target on her back to get to me, believing her to mean little to me beyond what I just described. It will also keep Maribel from having a target on her back, as the true nature of our relationship shall remain disguised. They cannot then use her to get to me as they will see it as a pointless endeavor. As for your beloved Fenris, dear Lady Hawke…"
"His job is to stop this bodyguard persona nonsense and take care of his damned self." Isabella cut in, "He was insufferable enough when he was playing at the concerned nursemaid husband. But this no sleep, hardly eating, bad attitude, overprotective nightmare is not good for anyone…especially him."
"Plan or no plan, The Crows could attack at any moment. I will not relax until the contract holders are dead, and I know she is safe." Fenris growled back at her, "And before you spout off some nonsense about hiring someone else to protect Hawke, please know that she already suggested it and I adamantly refused. There is no way to vet any mercenary we hire thoroughly enough, let alone a city guard...even under Aveline's command. Anyone could be a Crow in disguise. Magisters made that mistake all the time. It's why the ones that needed protection the most, made their own protection. Be it blood magic, demons, slaves, or a combination of the three. Even that wasn't enough sometimes to save them from the cunning of The Crows." He crossed his arms defiantly across his chest, "Also, let me take this opportunity to sincerely apologize for the great inconvenience my vigilance has caused you personally. By no means did I intend for the great concern for my fiance's life to affect you so." His tone was dripping with sardonic venom, "How foolish of me not to take into account your personal preferences of how I interact with you when you walk into my home. Perhaps next time I feel there may be an assassin among us, I will stand by and let them kill Hawke so as not to dampen the atmosphere."
Isabella made a big show of rolling her eyes and huffing loudly, "Oh come on, Fenris. You know that's not what I meant. I…" She paused and thought for a moment before choking out the next few words, pretending not to vomit, "CARE. ABOUT. YOU…while your attitude has been insufferable lately, I hate seeing you anxious and paranoid. It…" She shivered with mock disgust, "Worries me…okay?"
Fenris just stared at her, face pale, not sure how to respond. He rubbed the back of his neck and coughed awkwardly.
Zevran raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "I…honestly thought I'd never see the day you cared about anyone or anything…I…am at a loss for words."
Isabella crossed her arms over her chest, trying and failing not to blush, "Yeah well…you can blame your cousin-in-law for that one. She has this knack for…changing people."
Hawke smirked, as Fenris finally found his words, "Aria changes no one. She simply holds us to a standard so high that we'd have to expect more of ourselves to meet it. She has this way of putting the fear of The Maker into all of us. Her disappointment is almost more powerful and devastating than her wrath."
It was Isabella's turn to chuckle and smirk, "Ah yes, the 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed…' lecture gets me every time."
Hawke pursed her lips, set her jaw, and graced the pirate with a sidelong glare.
"And that look, that one right there…" Isabella pointed, laughing, "Says 'I swear to Maker, If you do not knock it off right now'…Like she's our surrogate mother or something!"
That got Fenris to chuckle as well. Hawke looked up at him with an exaggerated pout and mock pleading. He smirked down at her.
"My decision still stands firm, however." His gaze never broke from Hawke's, though his tone had softened some, "I cannot trust anyone we hire. The Crows are opportunists. I will not let my guard down until the contract holders are taken care of."
Maribel pursed her lips, "I understand." She stated solemnly, "Hawke is my last living relative and my oldest friend. I too would not trust anyone we'd hire to not be a Crow agent. Which is why…"
Fenris's gaze snapped up to meet hers, anxious curiosity plastered across his face.
"I think I have a compromise…Aria has written enough for me to know that you Fenris, like her, are stubborn and loyal to the point of self detriment. I know how much it pains me when I see Zevran neglecting himself in order to protect me. The injuries he faced at the battle of Denirim were…" She shook her head, "...All because he was trying to protect me instead of himself…but think of it this way, if you are not taking care of yourself, there will come a point where you can also no longer care for her. If you want to keep her safe, you need to make yourself an equal priority. You cannot pour wine from an empty goblet."
Fenris sighed, "Your argument is sound, but is not a compromise. I will not accept any solution that even remotely raises the risk to her life. I do not care about the personal cost. I've gone without regular food and sleep for weeks to maintain this level of vigilance before. I can and I will do it again…This time, willingly. "
Hawke cringed.
Maribel nodded, "I wasn't finished, Fenris. As I stated before, you cannot maintain this level of security on your own without it causing major detriment to your physical and mental well being. We also know that you refuse to accept help from anyone you could hire from either inside, or outside Kirkwall, as there is no way to truly vet them. That is why my compromise, my solution, is to offer you Sir Erik… not as a replacement for your protection of my cousin, but as a supplement. Sir Erik has already been thoroughly vetted. See, he is at this time still employed as one of the personal bodyguards of King Alister. Zevran has already personally gone through his background and ensured he has no Crow connections, and my dear friend Leliana, the Left Hand of Divine Justinia herself, has also cleared him. To top it all off, there is no way he can be bribed into anything but protecting my cousin. The amount of money The Ferelden Crown, The Grey Wardens, and my own personal coffers are paying him…not even the Empress of Orlais could match that. Not to mention his upstanding moral fibre. He is the very definition of a paladin."
The knight raised the visor on his helmet, revealing golden honey eyes, strawberry blonde eyelashes and eyebrows so light that they were hardly visible at all. He stood abruptly, pulled a scroll from beneath his indigo woolen cloak, and offered it to Fenris without a word. Fenris took it from him cautiously, and thoroughly examined the red wax seal embossed with the Therin family crest. After a moment, he broke the seal, unfurled the parchment and began to read silently to himself. When he had finished, he rolled the parchment back into itself, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"Since this concerns my own safety, can I be so bold as to ask what that said?" Hawke smirked. Fenris handed her the rolled up parchment absently.
"It says that under the orders of the King of Ferelden, Sir Erik is to reside here at the Hawke estate until such time as an arrest can be attempted and the Crow threat has been eliminated. He is to act as your personal guard. Furthermore, as you are still a citizen of Ferelden, you are subject to Ferelden law. His majesty has made it expressly clear that the presence of his knight in our home and at your side is his direct order, therefore any attempt made by yourself or those residing within your estate to circumvent this decision shall lead to you being charged with treason."
Hawke skimmed over the scroll as he spoke, then bust out laughing. Her wound throbbed, but she did not care. She laughed and laughed until her sides screamed and tears ran down her face. When she finally caught her breath, she locked eyes with her cousin, a manic grin on her face and a wild look in her eyes.
"I imagine that last threat was your doing!"
Maribel nodded shamelessly, "I know my cousin. I know you don't like others taking care of you. You sneaking out of the house is how The Crows found you in the first place. Also, Zevran had Isabella include her own description of Fenris's behavior in the letter asking my aide. That testament combined with your own descriptions of him, I knew he wasn't going to accept help unless there were consequences for not accepting it that directly affected you instead of himself. All I had Alister do was change the offer of help, to an order. Ferelden law took care of the rest."
"You're bloody devious! Ensuring I don't get myself killed and Fenris doesn't kill himself trying to keep me from getting myself killed…all by threatening to have me killed if I don't comply." Hawke snorted, "Last I was in Ferelden the punishment for Treason was a week in the stocks of Denerim, then drawing and quartering without a trial."
Maribel rolled her eyes, "The stocks are no longer part of the equation, and there is a trial now. Otherwise, yes, the punishment for treason remains the same."
"Good." Hawke smirked, "I could use a nice stretch. Maybe add a few inches to my height. I can't seem to reach the top shelves in the kitchen."
Fenris glared down at her, arms crossed.
Isabella chuckled, "Would it kill you to be serious just this once?"
"It might actually." Aria shrugged, "In all seriousness though, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. While I'm not thrilled to have others put their life on the line for my sake, I suppose I would rather this than watch Fenris suffer anymore than he already has. I wanted to hire outside help to take the burden off of him anyway. What I still don't understand, however, is how this is a compromise. To me this seems more like telling us what is going to happen whether we like it or not."
Maribel sighed, "Clearly you didn't read that scroll very closely. The compromise is…"
"That in the absence of The King, Ser Erik takes his orders from me." Fenris grumbled. The knight nodded once and placed his right fist over his heart in a silent salute.
Hawke's eyebrows twisted in confusion, "What? How does that even make any sense? No offense Fenris, but why you? It's my life on the line, not yours."
He sighed heavily, "Exactly. It is your life on the line, and if history proves anything, it is that you can't be trusted to make decisions that protect it. I, however, can."
Hawke pouted petulantly, "That's not fair. I've made it this far, haven't I?"
Just then, another pounding came from the front door. Fenris sighed, "I'll answer it. I imagine more foreign infantry is arriving." He rose and made for the front door as Aria continued to argue with her cousin about the specifics of this new security arrangement. Isabella, Zevran, and Ser Erik stood by as spectators. Another pounding came at the door. The elf wrenched it from the wind's vacuum once more and glared out into the bluster at the figure standing before him. What he expected to find was more Ferelden forces. Instead…it was another Grey Warden. One singular, very unwelcome, Grey Warden. Fenris stepped aside and allowed him in as the wind caught the door and slammed it shut behind them.
"Bloody finally." Anders muttered, pulling his cloak off and placing it on the stand nearby, "If Hawke wasn't in the shape she's in, I would have never braved that squall."
Fenris stood in the entryway, leaning casually against the wall opposite the mage. His arms were crossed, his eyes were alight with mischief, and on his face was plastered a small, thin lipped smile.
Anders smoothed his haphazard dishwater blonde hair and finally looked up at the elf, "What…is that face?" He inquired nervously, "What happened?"
"Nothing." Fenris replied casually, trying desperately to stunt the growth of his smile.
Anders hesitated and eyed Fenris carefully, "What do you mean nothing? That…That shit eating smirk of yours says otherwise. What in the black city is going on here!?"
Fenris stepped away from the wall and made an ushering gesture with his arm, welcoming Anders into the estate. "We have visitors." He replied slyly, "Visitors that require us both to be on our best behavior. Hawke's last surviving family is in town. Her cousin."
Anders gave him an incredulous look, "Is that all? What, am I supposed to continue playing the role of the non-apostate? That's nothing new. Now stop looking at me like that. It's unsettling…more unsettling than usual anyway." He pushed past Fenris into the lounge area of the estate, sauntering casually toward the group of visitors with their backs turned to him.
"Well perhaps if the nobles in this town want me to stop socially castrating them, then perhaps they should stop exploiting the loopholes in the already corrupted gov…" Aria stopped short as she locked eyes with the healer. Her face went pale, and her eyes went wide.
Everyone in the room whipped around to look at him and then…Anders suddenly understood Fenris's shit eating grin.
"Shit." he cursed under his breath as Maribel locked eyes with him, jumping to her feet.
"Anders! You deserting son of a bitch!"