literature

A Simple Task, part 6

Deviation Actions

Zara-Arletis's avatar
By
Published:
2.6K Views

Literature Text

***Contains naughty language, mild violence, and sexual themes***

Isabela came by the next day to ask for a favor.  "Please come to the docks with me?  I have to check on some cargo and I don't want to go alone.  I don't think these fools will try anything, but backup should discourage them."  "Fine," Fenris told her.  He couldn't imagine she really needed any help.  Isabela could handle herself, but he didn't want to say no.  Besides, he had an errand at the docks as well.  There were a few ships in from Tevinter and any one of them could be carrying a reply to his carefully worded inquiries about his sister.  He'd intended to ask Hawke along, but it might be easier to go with Isabela.  She didn't ask for much, didn't care what he might be working on.  She smiled suggestively at him as he strapped on his armor, "I was hoping you'd say yes.  I haven't seen much of you lately."  "I've been busy," he answered, not willing to go into his troubles.  "I bet you have."  "Let's go," he told her, letting the comment pass.  She gave him a little pout before following.



  
The docks were bustling with people and commerce; the ships from Tevinter carried all sorts of luxury items and magical crafts hard to get elsewhere.  What held Isabela's interest was a small ship from Antiva.  It was a low vessel and sleek, made for speed not cargo, and armed to the teeth.  "Pirates?" he asked her, eyebrows raised.  "Not exactly.  Now be a doll and keep your mouth shut.  I'll tell you all about it later if you like.  We can talk in my room at the Hanged Man."  Fenris started to reply but she held a finger to her lips in warning and sauntered away, hips swaying mesmerizingly.  He swallowed once and tried to focus.  The men she'd come to meet were easy to spot, like wolves in a sheep pen, they moved through the crowd of merchants and clients with ease.  One was elven, short and slight; he carried a bow on his back and a dagger on his hip.  The other was tall and lanky, a human with darker coloring, arms roped with muscle and covered in scars.




The tall one leered at Isabela as she greeted them, eyes never moving from her chest.  "Isabela!  Good to see you again, love!  Been up to much in Kirkwall?"  "Nothing I can talk about it polite company," she answered.  Both men laughed at that.  "Who's your little friend?" he asked, looking at Fenris appraisingly.  "Just a friend.  He doesn't make it out of the alienage often, so I let him tag along.  You don't mind do you?"  Fenris bristled at the comment, but kept silent, wondering what business she had with these men.  "Not a bit love.  Just means tighter quarters down below, eh?"  The elf gave Fenris a long look, "You ought to introduce us 'Bela.  He's a cute one for a shut in."  "Fenris - this is Mycha," she said gesturing to the elf, "and Tond.  Some old friends from Antiva."  He nodded to the men warily.  Mycha gave him a slow smile and a lingering gaze that made him feel like he needed a hot bath and a pound of soap to rid himself of the filth in that elf's mind.  They led Isabela back to their ship and made a beeline for the Captain's cabin.



  
They hadn't been kidding about tight quarters.  The ceiling was low enough that Tond had to stoop to enter; he sat on the narrow bed.  Isabela stood to the left of the door, leaving just enough room for Fenris and Mycha to scoot in before she kicked the door shut.  He found himself sandwiched between a latched set of drawers and the elf.  The pirate pressed himself closer than necessary and raised an eyebrow suggestively.  He just glowered at him and tried not to dwell on it.  Isabela owed him one for this, he thought.  A big one.  "Well, don't keep me in suspense, mate.  What did they say," Isabela asked.  Tond answered, "Our friends in Antiva say it can't be done.  No way, no how."  "So what, that bastard already cut a deal with them?"  "You know I can't say love.  You might be able to find a Master to take the contract independently, but the guild made their point clear."



  
Isabela frowned, "I'm not going to hire anyone stupid enough to cross them by taking jobs on the side.  It'd be pointless, expensive, and cruel."  She reached into her bosom and pulled out a small leather sack, tossing it to Tond.  "The rest of your payment as we agreed.  If that's all the news you have, our business here is done."  Tond and Mycha both laughed as she said it.  "You know that's not how it works.  Mycha and I have one more piece of business to do."  Isabela tensed as the mood in the room shifted from suspicion to hostility; she reached for her dagger.  "You bastard," she hissed, eyes narrowing.  "Now, now 'Bela, it's nothing personal.  It'd be downright unprofessional to let you leave after accepting good money to take you out.  Seems you've upset some powerful men."  "Castillon," she spat, blades rasping as she loosed them from their sheath.



  
The room was much too small for Fenris to make use of his sword and Mycha was already on top of him.  As the elven pirate pulled his belt knife, Fenris ignited the lyrium runes and struck out.  His blow landed at the same time Mycha's dirk struck at his neck, but while the shank passed through ethereal flesh harmlessly, Fenris' gauntleted hand did not.  He gripped Mycha's heart, feeling its feeble pulsing in his hand.  Fenris squeezed until there was no motion or life left in the elf and then he let the body slump to the floor.  Mycha had no chance, really.  It was almost sad, but Fenris felt no regret killing one like him.  A thief and a murderer deserved no mercy or sympathy, he thought.



  
Isabela was having a harder time with Tond.  He was faster than he looked, and incredibly skilled.  Fenris searched for an opening, but the man managed to keep Isabela between himself and the elf, while simultaneously avoiding her vicious attacks.  For a moment it looked like Isabela had gained the advantage, but Tond managed to get past her defenses, kicking out at her knee.  The blow sent her to the floor, and the man was on her in an instant, blades coming down to pierce her heart.  Fenris reacted without thought, reaching for Tond's throat.  The pirate stopped as soon as he felt Fenris' touch and no wonder; having someone grip you from the inside was horrendously painful.  Isabela smiled up at the pirate, "You never should have taken their money Tond.  You know better."



  
Before Fenris could do anything else, she drove one of her daggers into his side, piercing his lung, and then pushed up under the ribcage where the blade tore open his heart.  Fenris dropped the pirate as he bled out.  Isabela wriggled out from under Tond.  "We'd best get out of here before the crew realizes what's happened."  She slipped out the door, staying as much to the shadows as she could.  He followed, trying to mimic her movements, but sneaking was never something he excelled at.  His training as a bodyguard had been all about being visible, intimidating, not silent and unseen.



  
When they got to the main deck, Isabela stopped him, "You go on ahead. I'll meet you on the docks by the Westside warehouse."  "I don't think it's wise for you to stay on this ship," Fenris answered.  "Probably not, but there's something I need to do before I go and it'll be easier on my own."  The elf thought about arguing, but it wasn't worth it.  "Fine."  She gave him an impish grin and disappeared into the shadows.  Fenris crossed the deck without a problem, scowling at any sailor that looked his way, and then he was lost to the crowd.  The warehouse was busy; he did his best to stay out of the way and watch for Isabela.



  
He'd been there at least an hour when she showed up again, all smiles, smelling faintly of lamp oil.  "What did you do?" he asked suspiciously.  "Oh, nothing much.  I just wanted to send a little message to Castillon.  We'd better get a move on if we're going to avoid the crowd."  "What?" he asked, as she drug him along at a near run.  Just then, a sound like cannon fire thundered across the docks followed by a whoosh of hot air.  "Oh," Isabela gasped, "I suppose I should have cut that longer.  I hope the boys got off the ship when I told them to."  "Did you just-" "No.  Or at least, nothing anyone can prove.  Now let's go."




The Hanged Man was quiet for once; nearly everyone had run down to the docks to watch the fire as it consumed most of one of the piers.  She looked rather satisfied with herself, sitting there drinking a whiskey.  "So what was that all about?" Fenris asked finally, "Not cargo I think."  "Can't pull one over on you, can I?"  He glowered at her which just seemed to amuse Isabela more.  "You're right, mate.  Not cargo at all.  I don't suppose you'd like to discuss it in my room?  With less armor on?"  "No," Fenris answered, looking away.  "You always say that, but your eyes tell me something different."  "Eyes don't speak.  Now tell me why I just helped you kill two men and blow-" she shushed him.



  
"I contacted Tond a while back - he knows some friends of mine in Antiva.   I was hoping they would help me out with Castillon.  Apparently they won't take a contract out on him, but at least I can be fairly sure he hasn't put one on me yet either.  If he had, things would have gone a lot worse back there."  "You tried to have him assassinated?"  Isabela smirked, "It seemed like the simplest way to be finished with him, so yes.  It's too bad about Tond and Mycha though.  I'll miss them."  "They tried to kill you Isabela," the elf said, annoyed with her.  "Yes, but it wasn't personal.  They took a job - it was more than they could handle.  I know it's hard to believe, but for awhile they crewed the Siren.  Good men."



  
Fenris rolled his eyes, hoping this was not a segue into another long sailor's story.  "You know," Isabela said, expression turning soft and sad, "I really do regret killing them."  "Really?" he asked, surprised.  "Yes.  And you know the only cure for regret is a quick roll in the hay."  "I should have known you were going to say that," Fenris answered as he stood.  "Where are you going, elf? she asked, eyeing him.  "Home.  I've done what you asked, and you've made my other task impossible for today. There's no point in staying."



  
"No point?  I invite you to bed me and you're just walking out?"  "Yes," he replied.  It had become easier to reject her advances after the bliss of being with Hawke.  "Come on, Fenris!  I know you and the mage have been on the outs for months, so you're not getting any.  And it's not as if I'm proposing marriage.  I just thought we could offer each other a little fun."  "I won't say I'm not tempted, Isabela.  You are a beautiful woman, but . . . I just can't."  "Fine.  Have it your way then.  I'm sure I can find another likely lad."  She slammed her glass down on the table and motioned Corff for another drink.  "As you say, Isabela.  Good hunting."  With that, he left.



  
Fenris intended to go home, but when he passed by Hawke's mansion, he decided to stop in.  Maybe they could get lunch or something, he thought.  He let himself in quietly, happy to see that Bodahn was nowhere around.  He could hear voices upstairs, Hawke and Sebastian.  The archer was pleading with her.  "Please Hawke!  I need to be at that feast!  Most of the Starkhaven's nobility will be present.  I might not have another chance to speak with them outside of hostilities," he said, voice rising as he grew frustrated.  "I thought you'd decided to stay in the Chantry, Sebastian.  What good would it do to talk to these idiots?"



  
"My cousin will be there!  I need to at least try to warn him about the Harimanns.  He deserves a chance against them, fool that he is."  "Fine.  If it means that much to you, take my invitation.  You go deal with them; I'll stay home thank you very much."  "You know I can't do that Hawke.  They invited you and a guest; if I go alone I could be turned away.  The Viscount probably doesn't want me there."  Fenris stepped into the room.  An opaque screen was set up in front of the fireplace, couches pushed back and to the side.  Steam rose from behind it, and the quiet sound of sloshing water.  Sebastian sat on one of the chairs, back to the screen.  His face lit up when he saw the elf, "Fenris!  Perhaps you can talk some sense into her."  An abrupt splash followed by, "Fenris is here too?  I swear to the Maker, that damn dwarf does not listen to a word I say."



  
While Fenris would have loved to see Bodahn taken down a peg or two, it probably wouldn't be good to reinforce the benefits of turning away Hawke's friends.  "Sorry Hawke.  Bodahn wasn't at the door, so I let myself in.  I didn't realize you were in the bath.  Should I leave?"  "No.  I suppose not," she huffed.  Orana chose just that moment to walk in with a bucket and some brushes.  "Oh my!  Mistress, shall I see these men out?  I can't believe they would intrude!"  She sounded so scandalized; her tone brought a smile to Fenris' lips.  Even Sebastian grinned.  "No Orana, its fine.  I'm sure they will be perfect gentlemen," Hawke replied soothingly.  The elven servant shook her head at them before venturing behind the partition.



  
He heard the mage stand, water cascading down her body, the tiny splashes audible throughout the room.  Fenris knew he should look away but he couldn't.  Her form was perfectly silhouetted against the silk screen between them; every curve, from her high, round breasts to the delicate turn of her thigh and calf etched in aching detail.  Sebastian coughed and motioned for him to turn around, but there was no way he could.  It was enough that he stood rooted to the spot, mouth dry with desire.



  
"Sebastian, I have no intention of dealing with a hundred annoying nobles just so you can get into an argument with family.  I don't understand why you even want to go."  The archer made a frustrated sound and threw up his hands, looking to the elf for support.  Normally Fenris would completely agree with Hawke on that point, but Sebastian had done him a good turn and it only seemed fair to help him out.  "Come on Hawke," he said, "It would be a chance to look around for the amulet.  Where's the harm?"  "Are you serious?" she asked, peeking around the edge of the screen.  "Yes," Fenris answered, voice sounding strangled as he struggled to look elsewhere.  Hawke's skin was scrubbed pink; water droplets clung to her hair and face, sparkling in the afternoon light.



  
"Mistress, if you please," Orana said, beckoning her back.  Hawke allowed the elf to dry her off and wrap her in a silk robe.  Orana left, eyeing the two men with displeasure.  Sebastian looked up as the mage came out to sit with them, and promptly looked away again, crimson.  Fenris blushed, but he could no more look away from her than he could fall up.  The robe was blue silk and clung to the very curves he'd lusted after in shadow moments before; worse yet, it was short.



  
All he could think about was the feel of her beneath his palms, the way her legs flexed and quivered that one night when she . . . with a force of will, he shut those memories away.  Hawke hadn't noticed his lapse as she made herself comfortable.  "Alright, let's say I agree to this nonsense.  Sebastian will be my escort of course, since the invitation allows me to bring a date.  Just the two of us then?"  The archer and elf said "No" at the same time, if for different reasons.  "Ok.  Then who else?  Did you want to come Fenris?"  "Not really, but I will.  You need someone there to safeguard you.  And to search for the amulet, of course."



  
"Fine," she shrugged, "but you'll have to masquerade as a servant.  Bringing a bodyguard with me would insult the Viscount."  Fenris frowned, but nodded.  "We can't possibly bring Anders or Merrill," Hawke continued, "that would be a mess.  Perhaps Varric?  Or Aveline?  Maybe Isabela if I can talk her into wearing something less . . . noticeable."  "Aveline would be the best choice," Sebastian said, "She knows her way around nobles and as Captain of the Guard she can come as an honored guest instead of a servant."  "Agreed then.  I suppose you will invite her along?"  "I'll go right away," the archer replied.  "Excellent.  I suppose I'll have to start getting ready.  Proper attire takes at least three to four hours, or so Mother says –said.  Orana will be thrilled."



  
Fenris raised an eyebrow questioningly.  "That long?"  "Yes.  You might as well stay.  I'll have Bodahn get something ready for you to wear.  Maybe one of Carver's old shirts and a pair of breeches."  "You're joking, right" Fenris asked, hoping it was true.  "Absolutely not.  You won't be believable as a servant in that armor."  Sebastian laughed, "You did ask to go, elf."  Fenris scowled at him which produced another round of laughter.  "I'll take my leave now Hawke.  Until this evening," the archer said, bowing.




After he was gone, she looked at Fenris concerned, "If you don't want to go as a servant, you don't have to.  I could make something up or find a way to sneak you in."  "No," the elf sighed, "It is the simplest fiction, and the best if I'm to have access to the entire keep.  Servants can go places others cannot.  Still, I would prefer another option."  Hawke nodded, "Would you go ask Bodahn to find you some clothes?  And could you send Orana up please?"  "As you wish, Mistress," Fenris answered, executing a perfect bow.  "You are going to make me pay for this, aren't you?" she asked wryly.  The elf didn't reply, just smiled wickedly as he turned and left the room.




As it turned out, Bodahn was an excellent tailor in a pinch.  He managed to take in the sides and sleeves of one of Carver's nicer shirts to fit, though what was supposed to be the neck and shoulder lacing came nearly down to his navel.  There was no help for that.  He left it loosely laced.  The dwarf declared his breeches acceptable, but took them for laundering.    Fenris had been wondering where Hawke's mabari was, but the smell in the servants' quarters answered that question.  He'd been staying in Sandal's room.  Worse, the bathing area smelled like wet dog; still, he rinsed off quickly while he waited for his clothes.



  
They tried without success to refit one of Bodahn's vests, but the thick material would not cooperate.  In the end, Fenris settled on a wide blue sash at the waist to complete his servant's attire.  He sat in the upstairs parlor to wait for Hawke.  He could hear the mage and the elven woman, alternating between curses and apologies.  Whatever they were doing, it sounded brutal.  Orana came bustling out at one point looking unusually flustered, grabbed Sandal and went back in.  After that, silence.  Sandal came wandering out several minutes later with his usual dazed but happy expression, which only made Fenris more curious.  What in seven hells could the woman be up to?  How long did it take to put on a damn dress?



  
Fenris tried to get a look inside when the door opened again, but all he managed to see was Orana's disapproving face.  "The Mistress isn't half done, but she won't let me finish."  She drug a hand through her hair in frustration.  "Perhaps you could convince her?  Maybe she will listen to you."  Fenris replied, "If Hawke says she's ready, then I say it's time to go.  The sooner this is over with the better."  Orana glared at him for a moment, and then returned to the room.



  
When the door opened next, he fully expected it to be Orana again, so the sight of the mage standing there took him by surprise.  The woman before him was beautiful; everything about her that he loved seemed somehow magnified.  It was still Hawke, but in the soft, silk folds of her blue dress, she shone.  Her hair hung in delicate curls down her back, held up by light silver chains and sapphire pins; around her neck, a silver torque with a blue sapphire and crystal flame, and on her wrists, silver manacles inlaid with delicate elvish runes.  The dress itself was a simple thing, two thin straps held it up on her shoulders while the length clung to every curve in a blue so dark it was nearly black.



  
He knew he must have been staring with his mouth open when he heard it click shut.  Hawke laughed at him softly, glistening lips curling into a smile.  "I'll take that as the finest compliment I've received," she said quietly.  "Yes, Mistress," Fenris answered, going to one knee, fist pressed to forehead in a full Tevinter bow.  It was not one that slaves used for their masters; rather it was one a warrior made to his liege.  Whether she knew it or not, it seemed appropriate to him.  "Fenris, please stand up.  You're making me blush!"  He stood in one fluid motion, offering her his arm.  "I wish I could be the one escorting you tonight," he said, voice quiet and fierce.  "I wish you were too," she replied, grazing his cheek with her lips.  Then she stepped away, the perfect image of a Hightown lady.



  
Sebastian arrived moments later and gave Hawke a sweeping bow as he entered.  He looked entirely too appreciative as he gazed at the mage, Fenris thought.  "Hawke!  Or should I say Lady Amell?  You are truly a vision," Sebastian told her. She blushed, "Thank you.  Mother had this dress made for me some time ago with hopes of tempting me into one of those awful singles dances they put on for unattached nobility.  As much trouble as it was to put on, I'm glad it's having the right effect."  "If it was meant to leave a man weak in the knees and heavy of heart, then you have succeeded. Shall we go?"  Hawke grinned, "Sure. Where is Aveline though?"  "The Captain will meet us there.  She was . . . occupied . . . when I stopped by with the message."  Sebastian's blush told Fenris all he needed to know about that.  Aveline and her man Donnic were still enamored with each other which would be sweet if his own loneliness hadn't stung so much.

Title: A Simple Task
Author: Yozzie (Roz)bourne
Game: Dragon Age 2
characters/pairing: Fenris/f!Hawke
Disclaimer: all characters belong to Bioware and EA I just take liberties with their words and actions.

Preview art by the amazing and talented :iconhockeyperu319:

Fenris agrees to help Flemeth, but what has he signed them up for, exactly? Things are never what they seem when the legendary witch is involved. In the meantime, he struggles to come to terms with his memories so that he can finally claim Hawke as his own.

This story begins with All That Remains sequence in Act 2, near the point of completion for that act. It is a Fenris centered fanfiction featuring a female Hawke, mage.


Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18
© 2011 - 2024 Zara-Arletis
Comments6
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Friesan-Pirate-Lady's avatar
I can't wait to read more. :)