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“When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they'd be so... numerous.”
They'd been trying to leave the alienage when one of the hunters stopped them, calling for his lieutenant to bring the others out. Hawke hadn't been worried; they'd already taken out a great number of them, what was a few more. But he was not upset that an elf had joined them instead, even if he had just shoved his arm through a man.
Hawke was more focused on his voice, anyway.
He hums, excited, and steps forward. Carver is quick to stop him.
“Garrett. We've talked about this,” he warns, speaking quietly. It's still too loud so near him, and Hawke tries to get away, pulling his arm from Carver's grip and using his free hand to cover his ear.
Carver apologizes and seems to start introductions, Varric soon taking over, while Hawke presses as hard as he can against his ear, trying to make it stop.
He doesn't end up hearing any of the exchange, but Varric fills him in on the details of the job after he's calmed himself.
They help him clear the mansion, and he's angry that Danarius isn't there. Angry that Hawke's a mage.
“I saw you casting spells inside. I should have realizes sooner what you really were,” he says, and his voice is calm but Hawke can't help but feel bad, like he's done something wrong. “Tell me, then; What manner of mage are you? What is it that you seek?”
Hawke whines and shakes his head; he doesn't have an answer to that. Carver saves him from having to, though, stepping forward and glaring.
“If you have a problem with my brother-” he says, and Hawke is used to this. He wonders if Carver ever gets sick of repeating it. “-you have a problem with me.”
The elf blinks, apologizes in a monotone, then hands Hawke a bag of coins.
“Should you find yourself in assistance, I would gladly render it.”
Hawke studies him a moment before looking towards the small bag in his hands. He looks at Carver, who shakes his head, but Hawke's already made up his mind.
He offers the elf his coins back, and with his free hand he pushes his fist forward, taps his index and middle finger to his forehead and pulls them away towards the elf, and finally shakes his index finger.
“Hawke,” Carver mutters with a sigh. He explains to a confused elf that his brother is asking for his name.
“Fenris,” he replies slowly, speaking to Carver instead of Hawke.
Hawke signs the letters to his name rapidly over and over, and offers the bag once more. This time, Fenris takes it.
“But this was for your help.”
Carver doesn't need to wait for Hawke to sign; he's already figured out where this is going. “He's asking you to pay us back by working with us.”
Fenris tips his head slightly, and this time addresses Hawke when he speaks instead of Carver. “Very well. That seems fair... thank you.”
Hawke hums, excitement clear by the way he flaps his hands.
“Hi,” he says, and everyone in the party, including Fenris, is surprised.
“Well, I'll be,” Varric mutters. Isabela chuckles and says something about a crush.
Carver doesn't seem pleased; it usually takes much longer to get any words out around new people. He thinks Hawke is to quick to trust this guy, much less like him.
“He means bye,” Carver says, and he's right; despite how he feels about Hawke's behaviour, he wouldn't betray his brother by twisting his words. “We'll likely be at the Hanged Man tomorrow if you want to get started.”
Carver then leads his brother towards home; he doesn't want to risk over-stimulating him with all the excitement of the evening.
Hawke won't stop whining quietly, and Carver just knows that he's upset that he hadn't gotten a chance to feel Fenris' voice.