I'm the jury and the judge

and I committed all the crimes

Just call me Hawke. Mother had a sense of humour when she gave me this ridiculous name.

I'm a person of little consequence, unless the title 'Champion' means anything to you. Most days, I sincerely hope it doesn't.

((Ask/RP blog for OC Hawke from the Dragon Age universe. Dragon Age belongs to Bioware but this character was created by meee. OC/AU friendly.

FC: Katee Sackhoff
Sidebar art by the wonderful mage-hawke.tumblr.com))


To all the Tumblr users who tend to use tags very liberally:


Let’s play a game.

Type the following words into your tags box, then post the first automatic tag that comes up.










  • Shink: I guess you could say...*shades on* no one expected the Dragon Age Inquisition.
  • Fae: oh my god
  • Fae: go sit in the shame corner
  • Shink: sorry
  • Shink: sorry
  • Shink: *tucks tail*

Criminal [Hawke & Kyllian]


"Whether or not you realize it, mizzus Hawke," I said with a mocking tone, my hand balling into fists upon my hipbones, "The gate is not always closed. It is mostly open. We do business in the markets just like you humans." Rolling my annoyed eyes I gave a small scoff. Could someone be so daft? How did she suspect we got out sustenance with that gate closed, and no sustainable food market of our own? Though, she was not entirely unpleasant, as some of the humans I had had the indistinguishable pleasure to interact with. 

But as she flashed her little battle scar from her endeavor of the climb, there was a bit of respect that burned in my chest for her. Not afraid to get her hands dirty. And there was some semblance of respect to be had in that. Shortly after she finally understood the true meaning of my question. I quickly pointed at her with a smirk. “There we are! Smart girl!" I said with a touch of admiration if nothing more. Stupid guards. 

Hawke quickly darted off ahead of me and I looked after her a moment. “Bloody hell, well if you think you’re going without me, you’re absolutely daft!" Quickly I made my own, much less graceful decent from the roof, sliding awkwardly before stumbling to the ground and running after her. "I’ll hide behind the wall… Maybe if’n he’s there, we can just…" I clicked my tongue as I motioned with my hands as if to say I was banging on the man’s head. "Two against one… can’t be two bad, especially considering we’re much more clever him anyway, eh?

Hawke slowed her pace to allow the shorter girl to catch up, a smirk on her lips though her head shook ever so slightly. Just as she reached the gate, she stopped dead and peered through. The guard was nowhere to be seen. Assuming he stayed missing in action, all the better for the both of them. The gate however, was still shut tight. Before she even thought to scale it once again, she turned to face Kyllian, arms folded as she stared down at the elf. There was a smile on her lips though her expression was serious.

"Look, if we’re going to do this I’m gonna need you to drop that attitude you have towards me." She said looking at the elf pointedly. "I may be human and yeah most humans are shitty, but I’m not shitty, so don’t treat me like it."

Without another word, she pointed at the gate and turned to it, grabbing the bars and shoving her foot into the third crossbar up to get a good foothold to throw herself up a few feet. It was as much a demonstration as it was actually scaling the thing, and took no longer than a few moments to reach the top. Lithe muscles made the job easy, and hands gripped the top bar as she swung both legs over and landed on the other side with a small thump.

"Better come quick, my friend." She said, gaze fixed upon somewhere not visible from behind the gate at the guard who was making his way back to his position with a fury on his expression. "He’s back."

(Source: faeryshawke)

posted 19 hours ago with 18 notes
via:kyllianthegrey source:faeryshawke
Anonymous inquired:


20: Any of the Above

Marian was, for lack of any word that could possibly be more appropriate, bored.

She was bored of the idle chatter that the other nobles considered highly important. Marian after all, had no interest in whose shrubbery was hanging over whose garden wall and casting a most unsightly shade over their prize-winning patch of Orlesian rhododendrons. She was bored of the circular talk from insidious nobles seeking to flog their dimwitted sons upon her.

It was, apparently, all the rage to get in with the new money, after all.

"My Lady."

Marian was roused from her dead stare by the skeevy tones of one such dimwitted son. He wore a tunic of bright blue, embroidered with silver and decorated with heavy, gaudy jewelery. She might have commented on how much it clashed with the simple yet elegant silken red dress she wore, implied that it was somewhat of a metaphor for the chance he had of getting along with her. A single pointed look from her mother, however, was all it took to silence such — if she could say so herself — witty repartee.

She would not go quietly, however, flashing her mother a stare before giving a heavy sigh and accepting his offered hand to be taken down into the body of the people. She was grateful then, that it was not a particularly upbeat song, but the slow melody of the dance seemed to give the man — who could be no older than a boy — ideas, and it was more than once she had to slap the hand that seemed intent on slipping from her hip.

Not soon enough, a familiar voice graced her ear as a pale hand fell upon the boy’s shoulder.

"May I?"

Fae was polite as ever, so long as you didn’t count that she did not wait for an answer, nor cast the boy’s disapproving look so much as a glance as he was firmly pushed away. Marian sunk easily into her new partner’s arms, hands resting upon her chest as she looked up to take her in. Hair was slicked back, tied so that it fell between strong shoulder blades. She wore black, a finely cut jacket framing a crisp white shirt that dipped far, but not far enough to show the bindings that flattened what small amount of chest Fae had. 

"You look very handsome tonight, my Lord." Marian grinned, hips swaying as Fae’s hands fell upon them, dancing far closer than she had dared with any other possible suitor that evening.

"As do you, my Lady," Fae smiled, leaning in to whisper in the mage’s ear, lips brushing her skin softly as warm breath tickled. "Though I might have instead called you beautiful."

castelesswhelp inquired:

"K. Give it here."

10: Neck Kiss

"Remind me why I come to your parties?"

Brosca was not amused. She sat in the dark, blinking yet still she couldn’t see a single thing it was hard for eyes to adjust to darkness when that damned darkness was blacker than black.

"Remind me why I invite you to my parties?"

Fae shot the retort back, not even bothering to try to see anything. She knew this cupboard like the back of her hand anyway, and she knew all too well not a speck of light would crack through the join between the doors. The sounds of the party beyond the doors could be heard as Fae shuffled to get comfortable, Brosca not daring to move a muscle just in case she broke something. Or worse; touched some awful residue from the last pair in the cupboard.

"Oh fuck off Fae." Brosca huffed as she heard a heavy sigh from the other side of the darkness. "I know there’s a bunch of prettier women than me you’d rather be spending seven minutes in heaven with but you better be sure I’m in hell too.”

Fae didn’t answer, instead letting the awkward moment descend into silence as she counted the minutes ticking by. When she was certain there was roughly thirty seconds left to go of their minutes, she shifted, leaning over and cashing a slight panic for Brosca, who had no clue what was going on.

"Alistair’s probably laughing his ass off right now," Fae muttered, close enough that Brosca could hear her far too clearly for her taste as her tone became much more jovial. "Still, best not make it an entirely wasted seven minutes."

With that, she leaned closer, Brosca freezing in surprise as a hand rose to one side of her neck, touches gentle as even softer lips met the other side of her neck. A series of warm, soft and ticklish kisses were placed upon her skin before the other woman abruptly pulled away and shoved the door open. Brosca squinted in the sudden light as she looked up to see Fae’s face, but her expression wasn’t the usual shit-eating grin she was expecting. It was pensive, and the much taller woman hesitated.

"And you know, you’re one of the prettiest women here."

Without another word, she grinned a genuine grin before turning heel and stalking away.

"I'd like the K? Unless it's something bad, in which case Sigrun put me up to it, don't hurt me."

13: Stomach Kiss

"Fae you barely know these people. Why are you inviting them again?"

Alistair sat cross legged on the floor of the almost entirely empty apartment. In front of him were no less than forty three invitations, and forty two envelopes with addresses to be written on. Those addresses were written on the list that Fae had handed to him before flitting off to do some very important party preparations. And so she had taken to trying to fit the new sink on her own; Alistair assuring her he was no good with plumbing.

The question, however, pulled her from her task and she snapped the bright yellow gloves from her fingers as she took a very serious look upon her face, striding over to kneel in front of the man, setting the gloves on his shoulder. She fixed him with that stare, and he would have shrunk back were it not for hands atop his shoulders too, holding him still.

"There are some questions in this universe that seem to have no logical answer, Alistair, and for what I am about to tell you, you must swear the words never slip past your lips in the presence of anyone but myself. Are we clear?"

Almost nervous, Alistair nodded slowly, but there was a wariness to the gaze that held hers. Fae was not unknown to pull pranks on him, and he had long since grown out of blind faith in her seriousness.

"While some of those I have invited are those I have barely spoken to, or indeed even knew the last name of before I looked up uni records, I have seen them. And Alistair,” unseeing, she lowered her hand, trailing a finger down the list and his gaze dared to flicker down to watch before that finger abruptly rose again and his eyes snapped back up. “These women are without a doubt the most attractive women I have ever seen in my relatively short time living on this earth. Body shots, my friend. Body shots.

He rolled his eyes most exaggeratedly, scoffing as he made an entirely unheard witty comment as she fixed him with that serious stare, ignoring any judgement on his part and not shifting.

"Alistair, either you only say that because you’re gay and I’ve barely invited any men, or you’ve never had a body shot. Which is it?"

"I….! It’s not that I’ve never had one, except… that… I’ve never had one.”

"Thought not." She smirked, standing abruptly. "C’mere."

With that, he scrambled to his feet and followed, uneasily and yet curiously laying upon the table as Fae disappeared and all he could hear was a clatter and rustle as she seemingly searched the numerous bags of party groceries that had been bought earlier in the day before appearing with a grape in her hand.

"I’m not wasting good liquor on a demonstration." She grinned as she tugged his shirt out of his jeans and popped the fruit upon his belly button. Before he could protest, she dipped, eating the grape from his skin, lips and breath ghosting against his stomach as she did so, but it wasn’t that that pulled immediate tension from his abdomen and explosive giggles from his lips. Fae stood up straight, scowling as she chewed.


"Your hair! It tickled!"

"…You’re not invited anymore."

paragoninexile inquired:

*whispers* I want the K

19: Forceful Kiss

It wouldn’t be the first time that Fae would be woken up past three am to suit up and beat the living shit out of some Kaiju, but for the first time in her long stint of service, it felt like it might be the last.

She didn’t immediately react as she felt Tam’s hands batting at hers that were curled around the smaller woman’s waist, though eyes were wide with a faux wakefulness that had not truly set in within her thoughts. She was jerked out of her daze roughly as Tam pulled free and rolled swiftly from the bed, turning only to plant a soft, fast kiss on Fae’s lips.

"C’mon Fae," she said as she immediately turned, searching for her clothes, mumbling tired curses about the state of the room, the mess it had managed to get in to – despite it really being little more than a few piles of clothes dotted about the floor.

But Fae remained still in bed, the chill air feeling all the colder against her bare chest without Tam to warm her, and she watched as though everything in front of her was taking place in slow motion. Movements automatic, she swung her legs across her side of the bed, barely seeing what she was doing as she reached for the pants that had been discarded the night before. She stood and pulled her vest over her shoulders, but as she turned to see Tam fussing over that one flick of bed hair that refused to settle anywhere but right in her eyes, as she always did every morning, she blinked heavily and final felt truly awake.

A single hop took her clean over the bed as she crossed over to Tam, immediately gripping the woman by her shoulders and turning her from the mirror. The smaller woman was given no time to react as Fae bent and pressed a full, needing kiss against her lips. The gesture wore a passion conveyed by arms that wrapped fully around Tam, hands that slid from hips upwards and teeth that claimed her lower lip.

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun and Tam was almost breathless as she stood in Fae’s arms, hands flat against her chest, staring up at her with a question only intensified by Fae’s nonchalant shrug and an inability to look her partner in the eye.

"I just wanted to make sure I got a chance to do that again."

makersent inquired:

{ i want that k ~* }

9: Jawline Kiss

Come now, mon cœur, it is not so difficult.”

Leliana giggled, pressing a delicate hand to her lips the moment Fae shot a piercing glare at her. The rogue’s lips were pressed tightly shut; as though she dared not let them part in case another bastardisation of the Orlesian language was to fall from her lips. She frowned, expression pulling into an ugly grimace as she scanned the words on the page before her. True enough, they looked just like common with the letters in different places, but the pronunciation…

Fae’s left a lot to be desired.

Or at least, so Leliana was being led to believe.

With a wide smile, she turned more fully to face Fae, eyes upon her lips as she fought back the snickers that had so irritated her companion. A hand rose to cup her chin as her thumb tapped her lower lip as if the motion would tug the words from her lips.

"Repeat after me.  C’est un plaisir de vous rencontrer.

Fae simply stared at her, eyes narrowed before they broke into a smirk that Leliana had learned to recognise as mischief and her hand fell, her own brow furrowing with question. Fae leaned forward, her own hand rising to tilt the Orlesian’s head aside, lips following the soft curve of her jaw from chin upwards before she whispered quietly.

Je te veux.

The younger woman’s smirk turned coy, pulling away as she felt Leliana’s lips part with surprise and eyes widen at first before a slight blush coloured her cheeks and she met Hawke’s smirk with a small, coy smile of her own.

"You’ve been practicing."

bastardsxhonour inquired:

"I want the K" 8"I''' {Because asking kisses from strangers isn't creepy or weird at all. yOU'RE WELCOME FAE}

16: Upside-Down Kiss


It wasn’t a particularly rare thing to be woken at camp by thrashing and grunts, sometimes even screaming as the night wore on and the nightmares were thick with grotesque images of horrifying creatures in droves and hordes. A recent new voice had joined the thick of it, only making each and every nightmare all the worse.

Hawke was just barely more than a rookie herself, oftentimes waking herself or being woken by another with those dreams; she knew them well. They came hand in hand with nightmares that had plagued her since her brother’s death, that had only gotten worse since receiving the letter of her sister’s incarceration within a week of her being with the Wardens. Why, the letter had reached Amaranthine before she had.

Alistair had warned her of the restless sleeps. He had told her that on this particular expedition, she would see it happen often amongst the newest of recruits. She had never spoken to Jon, however. She didn’t know how long he had been there, nor how accustomed to those dreams he was. He was quiet, mostly kept to himself and she was not one to push - not when sober, anyway.

He wasn’t quiet tonight however, as she sat up, gaze flickering over to his spot by the fire not a few feet from her. He writhed beneath his bedwraps, feet kicking as sweat dripped from the shaggy black hair. Were she not the only one awake, she might have urged someone who knew him better to wake him. Instead, she shuffled over herself, pale hands reaching out to gently shake his shoulders.

He remained deep within slumber however, brow furrowing at the contact and she gave a soft sigh. The deepest of sleeps, she found, it was often worse to wake the sleeper; the resulting dysphoria not worth the wakefulness. She shifted instead, sitting cross legged behind him as a gentle hand placed his head in her lap, and she smoothed the curls away from his forehead. It was her hope to soothe; though truly she had no clue what she was doing as she bent to plant a kiss upon the damp skin, managing even from the awkward position.

Send me ‘I want the K’ and I’ll generate a number


  • 1: Hot, Steamy kiss
  • 2: Cheek Kiss
  • 3: Nose Kiss
  • 4: Forehead Kiss
  • 5: Firm Kiss
  • 6: Gentle Peck
  • 7: Romantic Kiss
  • 8: Eyelid Kiss
  • 9: Jawline Kiss
  • 10: Neck Kiss
  • 11: Collarbone Kiss
  • 12: Chest Kiss
  • 13: Stomach Kiss
  • 14: Kiss Along the Hips
  • 15: Back Kiss
  • 16: Upside-Down Kiss
  • 17: Goofy Kiss
  • 18: Underwater Kiss
  • 19: Forceful Kiss
  • 20: Any of the Above
  • 21: Kiss in the Rain
  • 22: Then there’s tongue
Anonymous inquired:

She loved you. Till her last breath, she loved you. Even beyond that, she'll love you. Don't mourn her long. She wouldn't want you to. She saved you so you could live not just stay alive.


It was a note left on her desk, just like every other missive that had piled up in the last few days. A hand lay flat against the desk as she bent over its surface to read it, fingers tracing the words with delicate touches. The room was silent but for her own breath; or at least, that was all she could hear. There was weakness in that breath, each one forced forth by a body that knew nothing else but to keep on living and it was a bitter thought that woke her.

                         What for?

For the squabbling children who dared to hold dominion over a Circle full of captives? For the city so lost to itself it would profess the strength of one person was all that kept it together? For the friends who had watched as she had while her fiancé died for each of them?

She blinked, hard. Almost as quickly as the bitter thoughts crossed her mind, she pushed them away and a familiar hurt she had been denying roared to the surface. It was how it had been every day since, anger to avoid the pain, hurt to quell the anger. How could a person like that live? What had she to do now other than simply stay alive?

A small mewling sound reached her ears and silver gaze fell away from the paper she had stared at so intently it might catch fire. The little black kitten circled between her legs, his side grazing her ankle, head nuzzling up against the fabric of her pants. Without thought, mind empty, she knelt. The small animal immediately saw his chance, launching himself up her outstretched arm and curling around her neck, body warming her. He had not left her side since she had returned that day, and she couldn’t help but lift her hand, run wavering digits through his soft fur.

I can live for the kitten, I suppose. 

Of Drakes and Men [Hawke & Atticus]


To see her again so much further from the dock was refreshing.  Although she was a familiar face, her attire was a new sight; she was dressed for an adventure and one that would yield a fair amount of scrapping.  In light of her wit, he smirked and shrugged.

“Heh!  ‘Diver?’  Well, Varric can’t seem to find a good nickname for me.  That one might do the trick.  Explaining the story to him will be interesting, though.”

The breeze caught his hair and his coat tails.  It was here Atticus took notice of how tall this woman really was.  Not very often had he met a woman taller than he was and the fact that she was dressed head to toe like someone who was about to engage in battle, let alone her already striking appearance, she was indeed an incredibly intimidating individual.  Knowing that she was, at least on paper, going to be on his side felt a little more comforting than he had anticipated.

“Atticus.  Atticus Foster.  But you can always back to ’Diver’ if you see fit.”

He extended a gloved hand with his smile still intact.

“If you want worse, I could go get that kid for you…”

Hawke gave Atticus a look that might have passed for wary were it not for the small smirk insistently twisting her lips. She did, however extend her hand for the offered handshake. Her father had always said you could tell a lot about someone about the way they shake your hand, and Atticus it seemed, was not going to disappoint. Then again, strength in his hand might only have come from carrying the hammer around, not swinging it. Time would tell.

Arms folded as she stepped back, cocking her head at him and far more obviously appraising him, comically so before finally clicking her tongue.

"…Diver it is. And you’ll do just fine, I think. Call me Hawke."

And with that, she turned heel, swift steps taking her around the corner and up to the entrance of the mine. Truthfully, she had hoped for more support than this, and the pursuit had just gotten considerably more dangerous. It was her bad lack that she had chosen a day her companions were nowhere to be found… Still. No matter, they might just have to employ stealth. If stealth could be employed against dragons.

"Are you coming?" She called over her shoulder just a she reached the entrance.

(Source: faeryshawke)


"Why can’t I fuck the dwarf?" - Ancient Dragon Age Prophecy 

Putting a minor nsfw tag on here because now you’re all thinking of glow-in-the-dark dicks. :B

If you can’t read the font, you can see the bigger version here.

What the Shit is th—inarticulate screaming— [Fae & Orsino]


She is a shit. You have it proclaimed as your blog title! Also, excuse you, I bet this geezer could keep up with her just fine. No really, side with the Templars sometime and watch Orsino run away during The Last Straw. Fucking Olympic worthy shit right there, I’m telling ya. Dragon Age II sure has some hilarious animations and inconsistencies, damn. Now that you mention it, who’s to say the monsters won’t be creeped out and frightened by this pair. Tall mother fuckers with white hair and a weird age difference snooping about their castle? Meth heads! Meth heads in the castle! Christ in a hand basket!

Alright, you just confused the hell out of me. Are you insinuating that Orsino is waltzing around here with his dick out and Fae is strutting around in a mini-skirt with no panties on? Because I don’t see how her tripping would merit some Faery World putang but okay. You know this image is pretty much the best image I have for Hawkesino shippers because I said so. I don’t think people who aren’t virgins have a special name. Hey, fucking keep him a virgin, cuz if one of the monsters demands a virginal sacrifice at least Fae can get away safely. Though, virgins are usually portrayed as pretty young girls in white dresses so the monster might be a smidge bit disappointed but maybe if you squint hard enough he could pass for a girl?

Nope. Just tried it. He looks like a Chinese man.

Of course he’s going to shut the fuck up because he’s a little bitch who does what he’s told even though he’s the older one here. In the archive they go, occasionally clipping with the environment because I’ve yet to come across a game where the character doesn’t go through the damn surroundings at least once and even though it doesn’t bother us it’s probably wigging them the fuck out. I like to think that things that aren’t a big deal for us are massive problems for the characters.

With probably the most manly squeal ever, Orsino found himself clipping into the stupid fucking couches when they strutted by. Not that he was going to let that interfere with their exploring, so without much comment he yanked his hand free of the couch, successfully ripping it the fuck off. No it’s okay, it’s still attached, it’s just connected by a grey string or some complicated gaming bullshit about mesh or whatever. Though that soon snaps free and flops lifelessly to the ground as it slowly molds back to his model. Man, video games are fucking trippy if they don’t work right.

A note sits on the table and of course Orsino isn’t going to let it go unread because why. Not that the stupid thing gave him any answer to what is going on. “Who in the blazing fuck is Daniel?”

Sssh. Our muses don’t need to know we bound and gagged that asshole so that they could be in his game. Sssh. Quickly now, run to the study and through the history thingy majig, and then we can frustrate them with their first puzzle yaaaaaay.

Actually my blog title is “A bigger shithead than Orsino” which totally implicates him too. In fact it isn’t I literally just changed it yesterday to some lyrics from a song I couldn’t get out of my head so I can sound pretentious but also clever at the same time so wOOO go me. Also you realise we now have to have an awkward age difference roommate meth head AU right. That would almost rival this AU in fabulosity. Do you remember when this thread was serious? I don’t. It went downhill as soon as we realised Orsino’s clothing was embroidered with dicks.

To be fair by that logic everyone in Dragon Age is a little bitch who does what they’re told except Meredith because I mean really who actually properly stands up to Hawke over the course of the plot? So Orsino shouldn’t worry his fluffy little bun buns because he’s just making like every other NPC in the damned franchise when paired up with Hawke or the Warden. The environment fucking up, honestly, made Fae feel a bit ill. That’s weird distortion man, so she found herself needing to laugh it off. So she laughed it off. Right in his face. She’s an adult, I swear, but apparently licking the pink goo off her face stole 20 years from her. Yes. She’s 7 now.

She stopped laughing the minute she heard something fucking growling though. Not that she’d let herself look scared, not the mighty Champion of Kirkwall! So she just patted her stomach to make like she’s so hungry that her hunger could wake up the bright pink sludge monsters from hell and rolled her eyes at him.

"How in the fucking fuck should I know who the fuck Daniel is?"

With that ever-salient piece of commentary, she literally fucking dragged him by the arm because he was walking too slow for her and not at all because I need them both to be through in the weird room before the fucking roof caves in. And because you know, she is technically purple Hawke, and therefore sociopathic in a number of the different comments she comes out with, she turned to him and made a stupid face.

"Guess you’re stuck with me in here. Maybe we’ll need to resort to cannibalism. Spoilers; I’ll win."

Because threatening to eat your only companion when you’re in an unidentified place that you may just die of starvation in is the best way ever to make friends. Way to fucking go, Hawke. Anyway, so they’re in the place now where there are two rooms that go nowhere and a wee hole in the wall. It took me fucking ages to find that wee hole in the wall on my first run through and I’m still bitter so Hawke is now temporarily blind to holes in walls because I’ve decided she’s not smart enough to find it.

Instead, she gets super fucking excited at finding another tinderbox and happily shows it to Orsino like a happy puppy who just chomped up his favourite slipper before shoving it in her pocket. I’m beginning to wonder if she’s not actually the best one to be called the protagonist here. She’s a dorky NPC.

(Source: faeryshawke)

Iɴvαde & Rαιd [Orѕιɴo/Fαe]


          So many of his goons thought his orders were a game. He gave them no reason to think that protecting what is his and, respectfully, what is theirs, is not worth protecting. This was more than just a game. This was so much more than a gamble of life or death, of power or weakness, of rich and poor; this was a statement. Since his rise, the forgotten tropes of the city had given names to themselves, become fearsome fighters who are protect from the law but can still play Yahtzee on the weekends without worrying about a drive by.

          But he was no saint. His goons, the family they have become, are given no leniency when betrayal or, in Fae’s case, failure, looms before them. The Hawke sisters had been through quite enough before he offered them positions at his mansion and they still continued to suffer. Though he eases their woes he has no qualms giving them some as well; his preferred being threatening to throw them out onto the streets, or dangling Bethany’s wellbeing over Fae’s pretty little alabaster head.

          A cruel tactic, but it had effective results. Being buddy-buddy and friendly only worked so much. Everyone who worked beneath him knew just what he would do to them if he was pushed too far, and even though he was fond of the Hawke sisters… they were not exempt from his ire. Though they were able to pinpoint which of the rival gangs had the gall to attack his Champion and steal his cargo, the fact remained that it had been allowed to happen. Surely one could understand his anger if they thought on the matter at hand long enough.

          The gang who had taken his lyrium was Fae’s old one, after all. For all he knew, her injury was a ploy in a desperate attempt to conceal she helped her ol’-buddy-ol’-pals.

          Her way of entering used to be adorable. Now, it was obnoxious, and he was getting tired of it. She was lucky everything in his office was meant to look real but in reality was just plastic. Aside from his desk; that’s pure mahogany. She is met with a steady, pointed gaze, barely perceivable in the harsh lighting of his room. The orange colored blind filtered in the light badly and for whatever ridiculous reason, this was the only room in the house without an overhead light. The lightswitch was designed to, instead, shock a person.

          “We’ll skip the reason why you’re here and… get down to the nitty-gritty details.” He said, rising from his seat and placing his hands, knuckles down, on the smooth surface of his desk. “Were you aware that the gang who took the cargo was Athenril’s, Champion?” He bristled. “Or were you too busy flirting with the goddamned pirate to have noticed?” 

          In any other case, Hawke would have given a slice of backchat at the comment, regardless how truthful it was. She was not afraid of the Don, and she had proven that time and time again, be it with her demeanor or her attitude. It was the small pleasure she took from being a highly valuable asset, but in this situation, with failure looming over her head, it was a pleasure she dared not indulge in. The Don was nothing if not unpredictable, and it was not out of his hands to make her life… very difficult if e decided her assets were just not worth it anymore.

          So teeth were grit, and hands folded into fists and stuffed in her armpits as she stood tall and stared down at him with folded arms. Hawke indulged in this moment for perhaps a little longer than she should have; but it was rare Orsino be bent into a position that would not grant him more height, and in some deep dark recess of her mind that made no sense, her height gave her a small amount of control she knew would soon be taken from her.

          “I might just have spotted her markings on the pommel of the blade that gave me this—” Her left arm rose abruptly, just enough to display the tuft of white fabric of the bandage she wore beneath her leather jacket. It had been painful at the time, Athenril’s age old penchant for spicing up the knives her employees used — literally — with chilli powder making it feel far worse than it really was. “Right before it was brought down on my skull and used to knock me out.”

          Hawke’s voice was hard, but she knew better than to act truly defensive, or indeed cheeky. Athenril was not an unfamiliar name for her, and however many bad memories would be associated with the gang, she would never shake that connection with Orsino’s biggest competitor — though competitor was a loose term. It is not a competition when the product is the same, simply with a different seller.

          She knew his concerns, and for a bare moment, it almost seemed like it would be funny if his worries were true. What a great “fuck you” it would be to leave his service for the somewhat capable hands of his enemy, without moving an inch from her cushy lifestyle brought by his… “trust”. Less effective though, when you are caught. And when you are caught… That’s when the punishment happens. Not a thought was given to her own safety as thoughts of Bethany immediately flooded her mind. She was the only family the Champion had left, and she would not see her harmed because of her own foolishness.

          “We waste time with this confrontation when we should be taking the confrontation to them.” Yes, good. Divert attention from yourself. Be proactive. “I have already assembled a team and they’ll be ready to go within five minutes.”