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Ambiguous Timing is Helpful
Sep. 18th, 2015 01:12 amAisling walked toward one of the entrances to Darktown with Fenris in tow. The elf, as usual, carried a greatsword that was bigger than he was. As a result, he leaned forward to maintain his balance. Aisling had to admit, it was impressive that he could carry that thing, much less do damage with it. And Fenris knew how to do damage.
"Are you certain we need the abomination with us on this?" the broody warrior griped, frowning.
"If you can name me a better healer, I'll give you a sovereign," Hawke joked, shooting him a smile. "Really, though, give him a chance. You two are more alike than you think."
"Oh? In what way?" The elf looked somewhere between curious and offended.
"Well, you both glow, for starters. You both give Varric plenty of material for stories. And then there's the whole 'tormented runaway' thing you've got going on."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not running anymore."
Aisling shook her head as Fenris nearly tripped. He was clearly more focused on what he was saying than where he was going. Maybe she should change the subject before one of them took a header down a flight of stairs. "That's true. So, speaking of that, when are you going to let me help you get those mouldering bodies out of your mansion? I imagine they're stinking up the place something awful."
"I've seen worse," he replied, waving it off. "Besides, why miss a chance to defile something that once belonged to a magister?"
"Okay, fair point, but can't you do that with graffiti instead of rotting corpses? That can't be pleasant to live around."
Aaaaaand now he wasn't responding. Good job, Hawke. Well, on to Darktown, then! Maybe when they got to the clinic, she would have someone to talk to that had moods besides brooding and angry. Fenris wasn't a bad person - far from it, and she could understand his distaste for anything that reminded him of what he'd left behind - but he was a bit humorless sometimes. Sooner or later, though, she would make him crack a smile. That was her new mission in life, so she'd have to be careful not to snuff it before it was achieved.
Which meant she might live two or three hundred years, at this rate.
"Are you certain we need the abomination with us on this?" the broody warrior griped, frowning.
"If you can name me a better healer, I'll give you a sovereign," Hawke joked, shooting him a smile. "Really, though, give him a chance. You two are more alike than you think."
"Oh? In what way?" The elf looked somewhere between curious and offended.
"Well, you both glow, for starters. You both give Varric plenty of material for stories. And then there's the whole 'tormented runaway' thing you've got going on."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not running anymore."
Aisling shook her head as Fenris nearly tripped. He was clearly more focused on what he was saying than where he was going. Maybe she should change the subject before one of them took a header down a flight of stairs. "That's true. So, speaking of that, when are you going to let me help you get those mouldering bodies out of your mansion? I imagine they're stinking up the place something awful."
"I've seen worse," he replied, waving it off. "Besides, why miss a chance to defile something that once belonged to a magister?"
"Okay, fair point, but can't you do that with graffiti instead of rotting corpses? That can't be pleasant to live around."
Aaaaaand now he wasn't responding. Good job, Hawke. Well, on to Darktown, then! Maybe when they got to the clinic, she would have someone to talk to that had moods besides brooding and angry. Fenris wasn't a bad person - far from it, and she could understand his distaste for anything that reminded him of what he'd left behind - but he was a bit humorless sometimes. Sooner or later, though, she would make him crack a smile. That was her new mission in life, so she'd have to be careful not to snuff it before it was achieved.
Which meant she might live two or three hundred years, at this rate.
