At Your Side (A Dragon Age fanfiction)

Love Actually

The Viscount's Keep was chilly as usual, and hushed—many of those who usually created a buzz in its high-ceilinged chambers were still recovering from the parties that had filled the week of Firstday. Fenris was glad for it. Making his way through crowds of people always put him on his guard; he was constantly expecting one of them to be his master in disguise, or someone paid by his master to haul him back to Tevinter. An emptier room meant greater visibility. Not so much that he could relax, never that, but enough so that he could focus on the far greater stress of accompanying Hawke for the first time since the night he had spent with her, over a month ago now.

What a fool he had been. What a fool he continued to be. He'd fled her room to escape the fresh agony of losing all recollection of his past again, only to find himself constantly tormented by the new memories he couldn't forget: Hawke's mouth on his flesh, Hawke's cries of pleasure as he touched her, the understanding that had filled her eyes as she grasped the fear he couldn't put into words. They were the most treasured memories he possessed, but the very vividness of them was like the agony of the ritual all over again. He followed her now, unable to keep his eyes from wandering, unable to keep himself from thinking about what lay beneath her ever-present armor.

It was a relief to reach Aveline's office, even if the Guard Captain did stare at him stony-eyed. As did Varric, for that matter, but the dwarf covered it better.

"Hawke, I'm glad you came," Aveline said. She was fidgeting as she leaned against her desk. "I have a commission for you. A task I couldn't entrust to anyone else."

"Name it," Hawke said.

Aveline dug a package out of her desk drawer, handing it to Hawke. "You must deliver this to Guardsman Donnic. You can't tell him who sent it, and you can't ask questions."

"But ... why can't you give it to him?"

"That's a question, Hawke."

Hawke and Aveline stared at each other for a moment, Aveline's arms crossed firmly over her chest. "Fine." Hawke turned around and left the office. "Anyone see Donnic recently?" she asked the milling crowd of guards, one of whom jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the mess hall.

Next to Fenris, Isabela yawned. "I should have known whatever Aveline had for us to do would be boring. Be more fun to try taking that stick out of her arse."

In the mess hall, they found Donnic just rising from his table. He always had a very serious demeanor, and today was no exception. "Serah Hawke," Donnic said, bowing slightly at the waist. "You've been busy recently, and I believe Kirkwall is the better for it."

"Thank you." Awkwardly, Hawke stuck the package out. "This ... is for you."

Donnic's eyebrows rose as he took the flat, square package. He turned it over in his hands before ripping off the plain brown paper. All of them stared at the object in silence, equally mystified. At last Donnic said, slowly, "It ... appears to be a copper relief of marigolds." He looked more closely at the bottom of the frame. "Yes, it helpfully says so. 'Marigolds.'"

"Do you ... understand it?" Hawke asked, her tone not optimistic.

The guardsman shook his head. "No. Do you?"

"I'm afraid not. Uh, you keep that," she said when he tried to hand it back to her.

"And do what with it?"