Chapter Text
Jacqueline Hawke growled as she pulled her daggers from yet another mercenary. Where were all these fuckers coming from? If she ever saw that dwarf, Anso, after this she was going to kill him herself.
She should have known this was a trap. The empty chest in the empty house only proved it. Now they were having to fight their way back out of the alienage. She rolled out of the way of a fireball thrown from Bethany at some target behind her and she heard the last of their foes hit the ground screaming as the flames took them.
“Well, that was fun. Remind me to never get on our bad side. Seems... unhealthy,” Varric commented from the other side of the tree.
“Don't celebrate, yet, Varric.... Looks like we have one more,” Anders offered as he raised his staff as he fell into line next to Jacqueline.
“I don't know who you think you are, but you just made a serious mistake, friend. Tell me where The Elf is and I won't kill you all. Lieutenant, I want everyone in the clearing, now!” Said a new voice of a man now blocking the way out of the Alienage.
Whoever decided that places like the Elven Alienage needed only one way in or out needed shot. It was waiting to be used as a death trap, like now, Hawke thought as she braced for another round despite her exhaustion. She was about to say she knew nothing about any elf, like they all seemed to be going on and on about when the “Lieutenant” stepped out of the alley entrance with a gaping hole in his chest.
The Lieutenant muttered an apology before he fell down face first, no doubt dead. Behind him a tall lithe elf who was about one missed meal from being blown over from all appearances. Only the huge sword on his back said otherwise, or maybe it was there to keep him from blowing away. That weapon alone gave Hawke pause from putting away her daggers.
He muttered an apology for the subterfuge of getting her there. She wasn't sure since she was lost in the puzzle that was this man... elf in front of her. Even his voice was deceptively deep, it sent a shiver down her spine despite her weariness, though she detected a note of weariness and caution in his tone.
He introduced himself as Fenris, an escaped Imperium slave seeking revenge for the pale blue lines she had at first mistaken as tattoos. She was shocked to learn they were actually Lyrium. That stuff was volatile at the best of times, and it had been infused into his skin? Likely against his will or without his knowing the full of it from the sounds of it. If anything the hints he was speaking of was enough to spark her interest and make her want to learn more about this soft spoken elf.
“Danarius would take back what he believes to be his, even if he has to strip my flesh from my body,” he growled, making his his deep voice even lower and harsher as his fists clenched at his sides.
“Seems like a waste of a perfectly good elf,” she said blushing slightly at her words even as she grinned. Her grin only grew at the shy, awkward almost smile that he gave her as he cleared his throat.
He doesn't know how to react to that, she realized as she watched him. The mild flirting between them seemed to help Fenris relax enough that he chose to ask them for help finding his FORMER master and put an end to his long running.
Fenris had decided to stand and fight to ask for allies in his fight, she realized. She also decided that from then on she would make sure he always had a choice.