VI. Mage

"It was hard to forget you once had pride in something more than yourself."

They caught eyes as Hawke made his way to his room. There was a devious, almost amused grin that played on the other's face as he passed. It made Hawke curious and he slowed down.

"A mage, are you? And they just let you run around doing whatever it is that you please regardless of what you have done in Kirkwall? You know, blowing up chantrys and causing wars?"

The words amused Hawke in spite of himself and it made a silly grin curl his lips. He didn't know who this mage was, could easily tell he was a Tevinter through the way he spoke, and though he needed to tend to a few things Hawke indulged himself in the conversation. He needed to after having such an exciting time at the party he was chased out of and besides, those letters to Carver could wait. It's not like Carver, who was perfectly situated in the north, was going anywhere with the wardens disappearing in the south and all. Hawke was smart like that and thought ahead. Or at least he would like to have thought so.

"Yes, when you put it that way it does sound like a bad decision. But bad decisions are what I'm all about, obviously." The Champion leaned against the shelf of books as he stared at this curious man. He had a finely shaped mass of hair on his face that nearly rivalled his own and though Hawke undoubtedly should have been seeing to calling it a night he had decided that perhaps there was to be amusement here. Again, he needed the lightness of quick pesterings to shake off the spell with Cassandra and his beloved Inquisitor.

"They'd absolutely adore you back in Tevinter," the other mused while he crossed his arms and stared at him with a most curious gaze. "They'd make you their new mascot. I can already see it."

As much as the thought of being immortalized forever in such a way Hawke could only shake his head. Sometimes he could only take being famous for so long before it became absolutely tiring. "Unfortunately I am trying to keep myself on the down low these days. It has, however, sky-rocketed to the top of my list of things that I need to see before I die."

However fun this entertainment had been Hawke couldn't help but to wonder what his companion's intents were. He had seen this Mage around before, had seen him claim the library as his own special place as he passed through it, and though they had crossed paths on more than one occasion the Champion couldn't help but to wonder why now was important. What exactly was the driving force of this moment that had made it so special?

"So, oh great Champion," the Tevinter began after just a moment's break. "trying to catch the eye of the Maker's chosen, are we? A real dog, aren't you?"

The Champion rose a brow and forced himself from the shelf then. Alongside his exposed flesh indents of the books made themselves apparent with a soft, stingy numbness. The pain of the loss tingled with a bad sensation that made his toes curl. Was his desire for the Inquisitor so obvious? Did even the most common of mice see his want for her? That made him feel almost tired just thinking about it.

"Am I that obvious? Cloak and dagger has never been my thing but that's almost sad." Hawke responded after a second of bewilderment prompting a laugh from the other male.

"Painfully so. You should see yourself when she's in the room with you," he said while gaining a smirk upon his lips. "you're a walking tragedy."

Hawke lowered his eyes and rose a brow. Maybe he was right, maybe it was painfully obvious that his want and need for something so unreachable was in fact quite pathetic. Especially for a man of such own renown. Way to put a damper on such a killer story, right? The hero who got all torn up over one girl?

"All right, point taken. But things like this don't come up without an obvious solution. What do you propose I do then?" This was just another challenge that needed doing. If there was one thing Hawke knew it was that of seeing things through to the end, good or bad. And this was just another challenge now. There would be no more sulking, no more feeling mopey about it. He was the damn Champion after all and it was about time he started acting like one.

"Well, you're a legend. You have to do something of equal measure. And not get caught with your pants down, certainly." There was a stifled laugh that made the Champion cross his arms. That blasted moment of weakness would haunt him forever now and that would take its toll whenever it would see fit. He should have locked the door and now he'd kick himself for it forever.

"Fair point once more. I'll make sure that doesn't happen again." Hawke responded which had then prompted the other to move away from the shelf as well. In the momentary silence the sound of the party still going made the library shake with a life it hadn't seen for a long time. Even though it was a large room Hawke was sure he could smell the different flavors of alcohol being served by the Maker's finest. The fumes were intoxicating.

"Tomorrow when you leave for the Western Approach, be sure to be charming." the other said while lifting his finger up to stroke his moustache. "And not in your usual rugged woodsman way, but dashing. Flare you spells a little, put on a show. You know, be exciting. I know I would take notice and I'm not one so easily swept off my feet."

It seemed fair enough and though ignoring the woodsman comment Hawke decided that perhaps he would try it as so far where had his current acts gotten him besides embarrassment? Nowhere which was enough for him to agree with what had been suggested. But there was one other thing that quickly needed to be touched upon before anything else. It was just a small detail, nothing more really.

"And what of Cassandra? She threatened to cut off some important things if I had gone anywhere near the Inquisitor. I'm actually kind of afraid she will if I do."

The mage gave a low huff as he turned to face the Champion. "Be a man, face her in the eye as you do it. It will really get your blood flowing and only impress our dear Inquisitor more knowing you can look danger in the eye."

Hawke gave an almost worried look. "That's what I'm afraid of. But all right, I'll do it."

The Tevinter gave a rather absurd grin then as he nodded. The Champion couldn't tell if he was just plain amused that the man of legend was so agreeable or perhaps he was drunk. Maybe that's where the smell of spirits was coming from, maybe this entire conversation was only plausible because one of them needed to not really be there. But those were questions and concerns for a later date.

"Well, I should be heading to bed if I plan on going tomorrow." Hawke said while getting ready to continue his journey to his chambers. "I never caught your name though and I should just so I know who I'm smiting if all this fails and I'm missing an ear and two fingers."

But the mage's grin only widened while his arms crossed his chest. There was now a certain cockiness that had made itself apparent causing Hawke to give a look to him. "Dorian of House Pavus. And don't worry, people always say my name with the utmost confidence, I can assure you."

In this moment all Hawke could think of was a certain elf with hair the color of pale ash and how much fun it would be to see this Tevinter mage in a room with him. Just thinking about it made Hawke shudder with a terrible anticipation at Fenris' reaction to such a person as the one before him. He would have to make them meet, yes.

"All right, Dorian of House Pavus, I won't keep you any longer." And with that Hawke gave a quick nod and once again resumed his journey. It was late and it was time for sleep if he were to see this through once and for all.