DA2 - Little Wolf And The Fox

Title: Little Wolf and The Fox
Author: *equinexus
Game: Dragon Age 2
Characters: Remy Hawke (PC), Dylen Hawke (PC), Fenris, Anders
Disclaimer: Dragon Age 2 and all things related belong to Bioware.
Author's Note:  Some dialogue spoilers.

The Hightown market was bustling at the noon hour, with the sun's rays illuminating the stone ground and lighting up the square. The Champion of Kirkwall, Remy Hawke, was busy bartering with the chatty Orlesian, Hubert, in her best attempt to sell off some of the armor they had acquired in their last adventure. Ordering Fenris and Dylen to keep watch, the two bodyguards remained silent in each other's company. The tension between them was present in their body languages, with the Tevinter elf folding his arms and the blonde Hawke glaring darkly at his slender back. The piercing gaze of Hawke remained steadfast on the elf, causing his brow to twitch irritably.

"Avert your eyes, Ferelden dog," snapped Fenris in a dark order, peering at Dylen from the corner of his mossy green eyes. The rogue raised a defined brow, not at all threatened by the slave's demeanor.

"You and my sister, eh?" began the blonde in great disapproval. "I don't like it."

"So there is purpose behind your glare?" commented Fenris a calmer volume, though annoyed all the same. "This should be good."

"She could do better than a slave, you know," continued Dylen lightly, hiding his insult beneath a layer of charming delight.

"Of course she could," agreed Fenris simply, looking away from the human rogue in an attempt to hide the slight sting of hurt he felt emerge in his features.

"So why you, I wonder," said the man, rubbing curiously at his chin as he surveyed the elf.

"Perhaps she could better answer that," dismissed Fenris indifferently, not wishing to speak anymore of his relationship with the woman he loved. He knew he didn't deserve her, and there wasn't a moment he took advantage of that fact.

"You're crude, cruel, illiterate, gloomy, intolerant, and have quite the temper," listed Dylen, the words slipping off his tongue easily enough.

"Please, tell me how you really feel," sighed Fenris apathetically.

"She's beautiful, strong and wealthy. She deserves someone of good background, with something to offer her-all things that you do not have," explained Dylen, scratching at his blonde hair in puzzlement as he continued to survey the Tevinter with skepticism. "It is just something I cannot fathom, that's all."

"Try," he responded, slightly aloof.

"You're impossible!" exclaimed Dylen, growing flustered by the elf's complete and utter indifference to his argument.

"So I've been told," countered Fenris lightly, giving just the slightest of curious looks towards the man over the feathers on his shoulder. "You wish to question the decisions of your sister, and yet she does not question why you harbor an abomination."

"Anders is not an abomination," hissed Dylen defensively, narrowing his eyes.

"Denial is such an unbecoming feature," Fenris grinned with a devilish smugness.

"He would not turn against and slaughter his friends, like he was a leashed Qunari bitch," retorted Dylen, catching Fenris off-guard with its sharpness. The elf had not known Remy had shared his past stories with her brother, instantly becoming heated at having it thrown in his face by someone who couldn't possibly understand the hopeless and helplessness only a slave could feel.

"Do not speak on things you know nothing of, boy," snapped Fenris, glaring darkly at the blonde, who paused just a silent moment before raising his hands in surrender.

"You're right," Dylen admitted after a moment, growing somewhat sheepish, "I can't imagine how difficult your life has been."

"Keep your sorrow," said the Tevinter, once again folding his lyrium-laced arms. "It is not accepted."

"Rightfully so," agreed the rogue, scratching at his chin as he thought over his next choice of words. "So, what were your duties as a slave, anyway?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did your master have… special expectations?"

"I was a bodyguard," sighed the elf irritably.

"That doesn't answer my question," said Dylen casually, nearly chuckling as Fenris tilted his head inquiringly at him.

"You wish to know if I oiled his flesh and shared his bed?" he asked, somewhat amused himself despite the context of the situation. "You may be disappointed in the answer."

"Is that truly a… thing?" asked the rogue innocently, somewhat disgusted by the idea. The young Dylen's ignorance brought yet another frustrated sigh from the monotone elf.

"Would your inane line of questioning end if I shared your sister was my first, that I know of?" muttered Fenris lightly, not wishing those nearby to overhear them. Surprised, Dylen couldn't control the lowering of his jaw. "It is unfathomable, I know."

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence between the two men, shuffling their weight from one leg to the other as the testosterone between the two men fizzled in their conflict.

"Hurt my sister again, and I'll kill you," warned the rogue suddenly in a low, serious tone, making direct eye contact with the slender, lanky elf. A small smirk grew on the corner of Fenris' mouth, readily accepting the threat as he did all others with a firm nod. Though he did not respond, he couldn't help but to feel the smallest amount of respect for the man who protected the woman he loved just as vigilantly as he.