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“He’s so big,” Hawke whispered loudly, after several seconds of walking in silence.
They all looked at her for that, because while it was within Hawke’s purview to state the obvious… Bethany narrowed her eyes at her sister. That was not the loud whisper of someone awed by fear or disbelief or reluctant respect for the Arishok. Hawke feared no one. Hawke was flushed nearly the same colour as the red over her nose, but she didn’t at all look embarrassed. She never did. There were practically stars in her eyes.
“He was big,” Aveline said finally, when the silence became too much.
“He’s probably really strong,” Hawke added thoughtfully.
There was a distinct air of “oh fuck no” in the air as they made their way into central Lowtown, towards the Hanged Man. Hawke had a dreamy look on her face and wasn’t stomping forward so much as she was prancing. Aveline and Fenris exchanged looks, while Bethany glowered, none of them wanting to be the first one to call out the jagged rocks straight ahead of this ship of a conversation.
“A necessity as leader of the warriors of the Qun,” Fenris said.
“He had a good growl,” Hawke said. “A strong growl. Didn’t he have a good growl?”
Aveline looked up at the sky. Bethany looked to be trying to summon her brother through imitation.
“I would not profess to be an expert,” Fenris said dryly.
“I bet he has a good roar too.”
“We should be grateful if we never find out,” Fenris said, glancing again at Aveline, whose lips seemed to be moving in a prayer to the Maker to strike her down.
He then looked back at Hawke, and found she was looking at him with faint betrayal at his uncooperativeness.
Hawke looked at Bethany, who immediately sighed.
“Did you see his horns?”
“Yes, Mary, I saw his horns,” Bethany said.
“They were big horns.”
“Yep.”
“I like his horns.”
“I got that.”
Hawke looked ahead, eyes glazing over slightly. “I just wanna… grab ‘em and-”
“No,” Bethany said flatly.
“I wasn’t done.”
“I am,” Aveline muttered.
Bethany nodded and said, “I don’t need to hear the rest.”
Hawke looked at her sister, truly betrayed now, and then announced loudly, “I wanna fuck him.”
This caught the attention of several Lowtown bystanders, many of whom were immediately scandalized by the words alone. Their faces became even more scandalized when they saw Hawke, the immediately recognizable hero and hunter of Lowtown, looking completely unashamed of herself. Hawke had lifted her chin and put her hands on her hips in challenge.
Fenris looked beside him to Aveline, who had her head in her hands, and leaned in to speak in her ear. “At least she didn’t say ‘Arishok’ in the hearing of all Lowtown.”
“Give it time,” Aveline muttered.
Beside them both, Bethany had turned red. Her skin was nearly the same colour as the blood-red markings painted down both her cheeks. She pointed a trembling finger.
“No,” she said firmly.
“You’re not the boss of me,” Hawke said rebelliously. “You don’t decide who I fuck.”
“We’re not having this conversation in the middle of Lowtown,” Aveline said, shoving both women along and away from the scandalized and fascinated stares around them. “Have this conversation in Varric’s room at the Hanged Man.”
Fenris snorted. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
Aveline glared at him and gave the two women a hard shove. Hawke and Bethany may have both been mages, but they were both active mercenaries and over six feet tall, and one of them was a dragon. Under Aveline’s warrior-augmented herding, Hawke and Bethany reluctantly went before they were pushed over and trampled. Neither of them stopped glaring at the other.
“We’re not having this conversation at all,” Bethany said.
“His horns, Beth, did you see his horns?”
“You’re not fucking the Arishok. By the veto power in me, I’m saying no.”
“But he’s so big!”
“An admirable quality,” Fenris said, from his position as the shortest and smallest member of the group. Now that the demon in the room had been greeted, he was clearly finding this funny.
Hawke gestured wildly at him without looking. “Thank you!” she said, and glared at Bethany expectantly.
Bethany looked back, undaunted. “You can sleep with him on one condition.”
Hawke made a “hit me” gesture.
“You can do it if Carver says you can.”
Hawke gasped. “Beth.”
“So, never,” Fenris said, looking at Aveline for confirmation.
“Never,” Aveline agreed.
Hawke scowled at all of them. “I’m gonna ask him,” she said, with great determination.
She brushed off Aveline’s hand and stomped ahead of the group, towards the Hanged Man, where her brother may or may not be unknowingly waiting to receive the worst question of his life. If she had a tail at that moment, it would have been swishing with anger.
The rest of the group hadn’t stopped walking, but they continued in a very aghast fashion. Bethany was clearly mentally writing a plea to the Viscount to step in and disown her from her own family.
“What happens if Carver says to ask you?” Aveline said. “Hasn’t that happened before?”
“Yes,” Bethany said. “It means she begs until one of us breaks.”
“Or she forgets about it,” Aveline said, because she had known the Hawkes the longest. “I don’t think she’s going to forget about this one. This had better results than any other attempt at diplomacy with the Qunari. The Viscount’s going to call on her again.”
“We tag team her. We won’t break,” Bethany said darkly. After several seconds of thought, her entire face lightened. “Carver’s face is going to be fantastic, though. He’s never met the Arishok either. We have to take him the next time we see him, so he really understands the giant horny man that Mary wants to fuck. That’s going to be a good face too.”
“It is,” Aveline agreed. Then she remembered all of Isabela’s unhappy side comments about the Qunari occupation and brightened as well. “The pirate is either going to be delighted or horrified.”
“Both,” Fenris suggested.
“I almost feel like we should run ahead and warn somebody, but I’m not that nice,” Bethany said. “Come on, she’s probably going to shout something ridiculous and kick down any doors in her path again. If I can’t manage to stop her, I want to be there to watch this flaming wreck.”
“I feel that’s a horrifying summary of our lives,” Aveline said.
“Carver’s gonna puke,” Bethany said.
“That too.”
Fenris looked at her, then shrugged, and picked up the pace to match Aveline and Bethany’s hurried march. “Asit tal-eb,” he said.
“Meaning?”
“It is to be.”
Bethany gave him a side-long glance. “Is that a bet?”
Fenris looked back. “It could be,” he said.
“No gambling,” Aveline ordered. “We’re falling behind and Hawke’s trailing smoke.”
Bethany looked harassed and ahead. “Again?”
Ahead, Marian Hawke was indeed trailing a faint line of smoke from her mouth. It was barely noticeable in the bright daylight, but it was there. Bethany scowled and sucked in a breath like she was about to breathe fire herself.
“MARY, NO SMOKING,” Bethany bellowed.
Hawke stopped and whirled, wings that weren’t there all but snapping behind her, looking incensed at this familial betrayal.
“His horns, Beth!” she cried plaintively, and actually stomped her foot. “C’mon! He’s so big! His horns! Did you see his big horns?!”
“I SAID NO.”
“This is going to end terribly,” Fenris said mildly, watching the Hawke sisters argue in the middle of the public street. He didn’t seem very upset by that.
At the very least, the Hawke sisters still hadn’t named any names, but the mention of horns didn’t leave much mystery. With all the talk of expressions going around, it was hard not to wonder what the Arishok’s expression might be when it got back to him Hawke had a thing for his horns.
“That’s still better than this is going now,” Aveline said.