[ Master Post ]
Title: Adventures in Cuisine Via Hawke: An Elfed-Up Decision (3/6)
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Anton Hawke ♂, Cormac Hawke ♂, Fenris ♂
Rating: G- (L1 N0 S0 V0 D0)
Warnings: Cormac’s opinions on food are questionable at the best of times
Notes: Cormac decides to go the traditional Dalish food route. Unfortunately, Fenris is the least elfy elf in all of Thedas.
"Cormac, you’ve got to help me." Anton perched on the edge of the table where his brother was losing a game of cards, carefully placing himself where he couldn’t see the hands of either player. He’d feel compelled to play the rest of the hand, himself, if he could see the mistakes his brother was about to make.
"No, I don’t." Cormac smirked up at his little brother, but Anton just waited him out. "All right, all right. What?"
"I’m trying not to take Carver up the coast with me. You know he won’t listen to anyone but you, and he whines even then." Anton rolled his eyes.
"So, don’t take Carver. Take Aveline." Cormac shrugged. "Problem solved."
"Can’t. She’s busy. I have to get this in the next two days, or we’ll miss out."
"She’s busy, by which you mean even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t approve, and you don’t want to hear it." Cormac laughed. He knew what Anton wasn’t saying, now — that there were either smugglers or some fence’s runners waiting for a pickup, and his distribution of the goods, in the aftermath, would be unlawful, at best. "So, what? You want me to find you a swordsman you’re not going to have to keep an eye on?"
"No, I have one. I just want you to convince him to go along with me."
"Oh! What’s this? The shining Silver Tongue of Lothering is tied and can’t do its own talking?" Cormac teased, squinting at his hand and then making an extremely risky play.
"No, you ass, I need someone who can do elfy shit," Anton sighed, resisting the urge to take the cards out of his brother’s hands.
"Then you have the wrong brother, don’t you?"
"No, not like that!" Anton was aiming for horrified, but he failed. "Besides, I already tried Artie. It’s his elf."
"You want me to go talk to Artie’s elf for you, so you can drag his sword up the coast for a few days?"
"I need you to bribe him for me. I somehow managed to convince him that business negotiations should be accompanied by food. And now, if he doesn’t like the food, he refuses to negotiate. I tried Orlesian chocolates, first. Then… I don’t know what Artie did, but mum was furious, and Fenris still won’t deal."
"I know exactly what he did," Cormac sighed. "I ended up eating it for breakfast. What in the name of holy Andraste possessed you to tell him to cook?"
"I didn’t tell him to cook! I told him to bribe the elf with food, and I’d pay for it!" Anton protested, loudly.
"Maker’s balls. He’s actually trying to woo the elf." Cormac groaned. "Fine. I’ll see what I can do. You’re still paying for it?"
Anton counted his coins. "I’m still paying for it. Just don’t bankrupt me."
With the tip of one clawed finger, Fenris pushed aside the curtain just enough to peer out at whoever was hovering by the front door. Three Hawkes in as many days? He was going to need to have a chat with the lot of them. He was trying to avoid being noticed.
He considered not answering on principle, but that would just encourage Cormac to loiter out there even longer. Fenris tore open the door before Cormac could knock a second time, scowl firmly in place. "I don’t know why you’re knocking," was his greeting. "No one lives here. This house is abandoned. Remember?"
Then Fenris’s eyes dropped to what Cormac was holding. His ear twitched. "What is it this time?" he sighed.
"Bag rolls." Cormac grinned, holding up a knotted piece of cloth with lumps in it. "I figured I’d open the negotiation with something a little more traditionally Dalish, this time. I know, I know, you wouldn’t know Dalish food if it walked up and introduced itself, but it’s good enough for Merrill, and it’s good enough for me."
"Bag… rolls…" Fenris squinted at the length of cloth draped over Cormac’s shoulder. "That doesn’t sound like food at all."
"And now you sound like my brother." Cormac laughed and drew a knife, cutting the knot on the last lump and tossing the cloth-covered ball of acorn flour, fruit, and meat to Fenris. "I used to eat these all the time, back home. Easy to travel with and really good, if they’re not all you’ve been eating for a week."
Fenris took the ball from Cormac and stared down at it, one eyebrow arcing towards his hairline. "This is…" He poked at the cloth’s contents and licked a bit of the flour of his gauntlet. "Really? I’ve been on the run for how long, and this is how you hope to bribe me? I am familiar with… bag rolls, if not with that particular name. Too familiar." He handed the bag back. It was better than the chocolates, but he didn’t think he could stomach eating this again. "So should I expect a fourth Hawke with another offering? Carver or Bethany perhaps?" Just as long as it wasn’t Gamlen. Or Leandra.
Cormac shrugged and crammed half the roll into his mouth. "I dnt nww—" He held up a finger and finished eating, before he tried again. "I don’t know what he’s going to try, next, but, really, it might be worth it just to go with him. I can tell what he’s up to, and it’s going to end in a decent amount of coin. He just needs you along in case of Qunari. A couple of daggers isn’t going to cut it, against one of those bull-headed giants."
"And he expects me to—"
"Did I mention how well he pays?" Cormac shrugged again. "I don’t care. It’s between you and my brother and possibly my other brother, whatever you two have going on — and if I find out you’ve even breathed on Artemis wrong, you’ll be dealing with me — but, I can promise this is a profitable venture, no matter what the food looks like." He stepped back from the door. "Think about it," he said, turning around and cramming the rest of the roll into his mouth.