“I deny you!” Aveline hissed as the leader of the Invisible Sisters succumbed to a vicious pommel strike to the side of the head. The Hightown promenade was now empty, except for several bodies strewn around the gardens and Brennan and Donnic picking over them for evidence. Aveline bent down and opened the gang leader’s pockets, methodically laying out the contents on the ground. Lyrium… a couple of small bags of dried madcap… jewels… a playing card. Aveline turned it over, sneered at its pornographic content, then suddenly held it up to the light.
“What the…?” Even without the unique white tattoos, the profile was distinctive. What was disturbing about the image was not that it was explicit – pictures of lithe elves in minimal covering were ten a copper in Kirkwall – but that it was such a good likeness of Aveline’s close friend Fenris. Well, she assumed it was a good likeness, having not had the privilege of… Was that how he was supporting himself on the side?
Aveline determined to Have A Word.
Tramping down the Wounded Coast behind Varric and Hawke, Aveline slowed down, drawing Fenris’ attention to a particularly attractive bird perched on a shipwreck. Moving on, but still staying well behind the others, she changed subject with the subtlety and grace of a Qunari dreadnought.
“Fenris, are you… well? Financially, I mean?”
Fenris stiffened, anticipating another well-meaning lecture.
“I do not pay rent. Between you and the Hawkes, I need never buy food again. If this is about working for the guard, I have already made my intent clear.”
Aveline sucked her breath in through her teeth. She was socially awkward at the best of times, but how do you tell a close platonic friend Look, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen your cock?