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Technically, Hawks’ actual role in the Magistrate didn’t exist. Most people knew him as a hotshot lawyer and the youngest member of the High Council, but the truth was that he was more than that. He’d been groomed for his position in the Magistrate since he was a child, plucked from his mother’s arms before he could even properly fly. He hadn’t seen her since and barely remembered her face. All he could recall was her soft wings and feathery body that she’d kept him warm with and her gentle coos and songs that soothed him to sleep.
Hawks drummed his human fingers along the table, his clipped nails clacking the wood in a steady staccato, and sipped the fruity hot tea from a chipped cup. He’d been told growing up that he was unusual for a harpy. They were typically more bird-like in form, to the point where most were considered more bird than human. His mother had been like that, his father as well, although the harpy hadn’t been in the picture. He’d probably left when Hawks was born, thinking him deformed or cursed. Lacking the sharp talons of most harpies made him vulnerable. He was a shame and embarrassment.
But his mother had loved him until she could no longer protect him.
That was what he was told at least. He couldn’t remember any ill feelings from her, so he supposed the Magistrate wasn’t lying. She had loved him, but she couldn’t take care of him, not when she’d been rejected by their community and left to fend for herself and a child that simply wasn’t right. Too human for the harpy world, it was easier to let him go when the Magistrate caught interest in him.
Elves really weren’t above using someone to further their station. Hawks figured he didn’t have much room to complain since he had more than he would've had had they not taken him under their wings. The elves gave him a proper education, a house to live in, delicious food to feed his belly instead of the scraps his mother stole, and a soft bed and clothes to fit his body better than she could provide. It really was for the best.
All they asked in return was that he devoted his entire life to them. Whatever they asked of him, he did, no matter what it was. He didn’t always like it, but they always reassured him that it was for the best of society. If someone needed to be punished, they turned to him. Hawks didn’t think of himself as a cruel person, especially since most people thought him careless and jovial, but he supposed making someone disappear simply because they crossed a line wasn’t good either.
He was protecting the city, keeping people safe, getting rid of those that sought to harm the innocent – but he wasn’t fool enough to believe that all of the jobs given to him were honorable or with the best intentions. Hawks was very much aware that he was used to further people’s ambitions as well, but there was little he could do to change that. He owed them his entire life. Besides, saying no now wouldn’t make him a better person. It would just make him too little too late.
Speaking of late…
“I thought you stood me up,” Hawks greeted teasingly.
“You?” Dabi drawled as he slid into the seat across from him. “Never.”
His blue eyes literally glowed in the dimly lit tea shop as he searched the place for anything out of place. He wouldn’t find anything. Hawks had chosen this place to meet because no one from the Magistrate would step foot in here. They were above such little, underground shops ran by nixes or other lower beings, preferring their clean marble, open spaces filled sunlight, and sharp sweet tea.
No, this was not a place for the high elves of the Magistrate. Smoke hung heavily in the air, rich and filled with magic from the brewing and incense burning throughout the room, and it was packed with all sorts of beings, with maybe only one or two low elves that had been cast out. It was easy to spot them since they covered their faces with hoods, not wanting to be recognized and lumped in with other elves. Few would happily show their faces down here.
Hawks wasn’t fond of tight places or the lower levels of the city himself, but he rather liked this tea shop for all its eccentricities. The staff was kind and thoughtful with their tea selections and food, and there was always the air that something was afoot here. He liked seeing so many different beings in one place, crammed together and mixed up. It wasn’t like that in the higher levels.
He stretched out his vibrant red wings as much as he could, catching Dabi’s eyes and bringing his focus back to him. When he took a sip of his tea, Dabi wrinkled his nose and complained, “I don’t see how you drink that shit.”
“It’s surprisingly delicious,” Hawks pointed out. “They pick the tea for you after giving you a reading. You should try it.”
Dabi snorted. “No thanks. I’ll pass.”
“Don’t like your fortune being read?”
“No, I just hate tea.” Despite his flat tone, the way he eyed the cup in Hawks’ hand suggested there was more to it, but Hawks didn’t push the matter. There were an ebb and flow of prying and slipping information that Hawks had to maintain, lest he get too suspicious or annoyed with him.
Even if he didn’t like tea, Dabi looked like he fit in well with the place. He leaned back in his chair, resting an elbow on the back and propping his muddy boots on the table. His long black jacket hid most of the strange scars on his body, but the ones of his face were open for display. No one batted an eye. Even with those scars, he wasn’t the most unusual patron of this shop.
Besides, anyone with a drop of magic in them would know better than to cross Dabi. After all, a dragon like him was magic reborn, even in his human form. Magic radiated from him, powerful and old, warning people to watch him out of the corners of their eyes. The room was already hot from the cramped bodies and brewing, but an unnatural warmth poured from Dabi, like Hawks was sitting next to a living fire. One spark from his fire magic could burn this place to the ground – and that wasn’t even considering the damage he could do in his true dragon form.
If infiltrating an incredibly dangerous criminal organization didn’t get him sweating, Dabi certainly would. He’d done it a few times already, if Hawks had to be honest. Sometimes, one had to do some bad in order to do good, or so the higher-ups at the Magistrate told him.
Dabi tilted his head. “So what did you call me down here for?”
Hawks grinned over the rim of his cup. “Would you believe me if I said it was for a good old-fashioned date?”
A bark of laughter slipped from Dabi, but the tea shop was loud enough that people ignored it. “I thought we were getting along so well, and now you’re lying to me?”
“Well, I asked if you’d believe me first,” Hawks pointed out, setting the cup of tea down. “I did invite you to one of my favorite places in the city. No one in the Magistrate knows I frequent here regularly.”
Dabi raised an eyebrow. “This shithole?”
“It has a certain appeal,” Hawks said fondly, “and it lacks elves.”
“You’ve got a point there.”
Although elves made up most of the wealth and held the highest positions in the city, they weren’t the oldest beings on the planet. Dragons were among some of the first. Legend even said that fire and ice magic originated with them. It was hard to say what was true these days in a world where magic and technology mixed together. Either way, elves that considered themselves to be the highest magical beings certainly didn’t like the fact that dragons considered themselves above them. Even someone as in the shadows and grungy as Dabi could turn his nose up at an elf.
“So business instead of pleasure then?” Dabi asked.
“It can’t be both?” Hawks quipped.
A grin slid onto Dabi’s face. “Clever, bird.”
Hawks clicked his nails on the table and smiled. He cut them constantly or they got too sharp, just like his smile. This was a dangerous game he was playing, but unlike all the other jobs the Magistrate gave him, at least this one was kind of fun.