Chapter Text
It wasn't much, but she finally had her own office. The custom, newly-hung nameplate – complete with its Lowtown-quality gold lettering – made it real, announcing her existence to the world of Kirkwall and beyond.
Hawke Investigations, it read. Simple and to the point. Why mess with perfection?
Marian Hawke ran a finger over the letters on the door, and huffed a quiet sigh. Keeping the name was the least of her concerns. For one, with the way her finances sat currently, even Lowtown-quality was more expensive than she could rightly afford, and that was saying something.
It had been different before, back in Lothering. When she had been an assistant private investigator, working alongside her father.
Back when he was still alive, she mused bitterly.
Even though Malcolm Hawke's death had happened several years ago, the grief still rose up unchecked from time to time, still just as fresh as when she'd first been told about his 'accident'. Hawke tried not to let the twins – or anyone else, really – see her moments of weakness, but every so often she'd let herself indulge in a good shower cry or drunken solo sobfest if things felt particularly bleak. But this was not going to be one of those times, she decided, forcing the grief down deep, somewhere past her stomach.
Shutting the front door behind her, Hawke surveyed the room itself. Or rather, rooms. Exactly three of them; it felt downright luxurious compared to the small two-room office space she and her father had shared.
In the main room, there was a second-hand desk and chair for a theoretical future secretary, a metal filing cabinet that had definitely seen better days, and a used mini-fridge with coffee maker on top that took up most of the floor space. Then, there was the smaller inner office behind frosted glass walls, with another slightly-less battered desk and chair. Hawke had set up her laptop on the desk, and a half-finished can of cheap beer sat beside it. At least the place had its own working bathroom – the third of the aforementioned rooms – which was more than could be said for several of the other rental spaces she'd initially looked at. The office was cozy and more than a little rundown, but there was some room to grow. At least, hypothetically.
Over the years, Hawke had gotten used to flying solo, whether she liked it or not. For one, she held out little hope of either of her siblings joining the practice. She and Carver were better when not confined together in close quarters for any length of time, and Bethany had her heart set on graduating from med school. In typical Hawke fashion, the three siblings had never really discussed the arrangement, per se, but they all knew that it was probably for the best that they didn't work and live together. And aside from the twins, the only other person Hawke really knew in Kirkwall was --
As if on cue, Aveline Vallen pushed through the door, sporting a pair of aviator glasses and a brand-new, freshly-pressed police uniform, complete with hat and Kevlar vest. Even without the uniform adding extra bulk and presence, the six foot tall redhead would stand out in most crowds.
“You made the force?!” Hawke swept up her taller friend in a bone-crushing hug. The two women had become unlikely but close confidantes on the two week long journey by boat from Ferelden to Kirkwall; since arriving in the city, it was rare for them to go more than a day or two without texting each other, and they usually got together in person at least once a week. Recently, it had been a lot fewer hangouts, and more of Hawke texting Aveline than the latter initiating conversation. By sending silly puns or cute animal photos, as she often did, Hawke knew she could at least count on a facepalm or heart emoji in reply.
“You're looking at Kirkwall's newest beat cop!” Aveline beamed enthusiastically, while skilfully extricating herself from Hawke's limbs. “I wanted to come tell you in person, especially since they're assigning me to patrol Lowtown.”
“Told you that you'd ace the exam. And that uniform makes you look extra-hot, by the way.” Hawke grinned back, throwing in a wink for good measure. Aveline's happiness was contagious, and Hawke couldn't help but be thrilled for her success. Privately, Hawke was just as thrilled for the professional help that could come with having a cop as a friend, but Aveline probably didn't need to know that particular fact.
Aveline sighed deeply, and rolled her eyes in response to Hawke's shameless flirting. Knowing she didn't really mean anything by it didn't mean it was any less ridiculously over the top.
“Wanna get a drink somewhere to celebrate?” While it may have been only noonish in Kirkwall, surely it was five o'clock somewhere, Hawke reasoned.
“Maybe tonight? I'm on shift until seven, but should be free by eight-ish.” Aveline gestured vaguely to her uniform, her movements half-apology and half-explanation.
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Hawke's easy grin faltered, just for a split second. “No worries!” Knowing that Aveline would likely abandon her altogether, sooner or later, was in fact somewhere on Hawke's list of worries, but it wasn't a subject that was open for discussion with anyone else, least of all Aveline herself. Besides, like many things in life, Hawke preferred to only deal with potential problems when they became too big of an issue to ignore.
Thankfully, Aveline had missed Hawke's very temporary moment of distress. “The office looks good, Hawke. I think your father would be proud of you.”
Hawke smiled again, while pushing down the hot tears that suddenly threatened the corners of her eyes. Malcolm was another subject that was largely off-limits for discussion, at least if she had her way about it; Bethany had been the one to tell Aveline about their father's death and how it had disrupted their already-tenuous family dynamics. “He'd better be singing my praises from the afterlife, especially after how long I've spent scrubbing this place. You want the grand tour?”
Aveline cocked an eyebrow, which translated to Hawke as 'go ahead and do the thing.' So Hawke launched into her best game show host persona as she gestured to each area. “To the right is my mini-fridge and coffee maker, which are full of booze and coffee respectively! In the middle is a spare desk. Behind that is my private office, and to the left here, my brand new used filing cabinet. And finally, le piece du resistance,” Hawke put on a terrible Orlesian accent as she opened the smaller interior door to demonstrate, “a proper bathroom, with sink AND toilet!”
Aveline nodded her approval. “Well done, Hawke. I'm glad you finally found a place to set up shop.”
Hawke tilted her head. “Thanks. Though I'm sensing a but here.” There was always a 'but' with Aveline. She might die of shock if there ever wasn't a 'but'.
“But.” Aveline popped the last consonant, apparently annoyed at needing to state the obvious. “Did you remember to get things like pens? Office supplies? Toilet paper? And do you really need to be drinking during the day at work?”
“Serrah, you wound me! Mortally! Alas, I am dead!” Hawke feigned being stabbed with an imaginary sword, partially to cover her embarrassment at realizing she had forgotten to buy office supplies and toilet paper. A small detail to worry about later, really. “People expect PIs to be day-drinking. It's part of our mysterious charm. And I can't let the good people of Kirkwall down!”
“You know that excuse wouldn't fly if you were on the force.”
“And there's a very good reason why you applied for Kirkwall PD and I didn't. Besides, there's a huge difference between having a drink now and then, and being too drunk to get work done.”
While Hawke didn't quite understand her friend's love of following and/or enforcing stupid rules, the two at least shared a penchant for giving violent assholes a taste of their own medicine. Their methodologies varied wildly, but the end result tended to be more or less the same.
“I suppose we'll agree to disagree, then.”
While Aveline did her best to sound dour and perhaps the tiniest bit judgmental, Hawke couldn't help but notice her small smirk. “I suppose so. But you know you love me and my rogueish charms. Now, how about a selfie to commemorate this momentous occasion?”
Not giving Aveline the chance to say no, Hawke pulled out her phone. Aiming the camera with one hand, she flashed a peace sign with the other, snapping a bunch of photos in a burst.
Hawke didn't really take photos with the intention of posting them publicly on social media. It wasn't like she had a ton of friends to keep up with, or a great life to show off to the rest of the world. Plus, it was better if she kept a low profile, in case clients' targets somehow recognized her, which was always a distinct possibility. Instead, she'd taken to keeping all her favourite photos saved in a specific folder on her phone.
The two women reviewed the current batch together, with Hawke navigating. Flick, flick, flick, until -- “This one?”
“Yeah, that one's good” Aveline nodded, her phone pinging a few quick seconds later as Hawke texted her a copy of the photo.
“Awesome. I'm making it your new caller ID! And next time, I'm totally stealing your hat. I just let you keep it coz it's your first day.” Hawke's fingers flew across her screen as she made the change to Aveline's contact card and starred the photo as a favourite, before returning her phone to her back pocket.
“Really? You're admitting a pre-meditated theft to an officer of the law? Of that officer's own property?” Aveline's eyebrows raised again, together this time. Practically all the way into her hairline.
Hawke was roughly 99.9% sure Aveline was joking. But, just in case, she amended her previous claim “Did I say steal? I meant borrow. Temporarily. Yeah. Borrow your hat. Just for the photo.”
“I heard what you said, Hawke.”
“Two words, Aveline, darling: plausible deniability.” Hawke clapped her on the shoulder, and nudged her toward the door. “Don't you have a patrol to be on?”
“Trying to get rid of me already?” Aveline laughed, but turned obediently toward the door. Mostly out of a sense of duty – she really shouldn't be wasting time with a friend while on the clock at work. Even if that friend was Hawke, and she admittedly felt a little guilty for neglecting their friendship over the last couple of months while preparing for the police entrance exam.
“I'll buy you a coffee from the cafe down the street? I, uh, only have one mug here, and I actually need to run some errands this afternoon.” Hawke gathered up her purse, laptop, and a few other items as they bantered. She still wasn't sure if leaving her computer alone in the office was a good idea, even though she didn't relish the idea of having to carry it while running errands. In this case, she couldn't afford to replace it if it got stolen, so it was better safe than sorry if she just carried it around.
“Actually, I could probably get you a free coffee,” Aveline offered. “Most places will give a free cup or two to anyone on the force.”
“See, if you'd led with that fun tidibt, you would've had a better chance of getting me to apply with you!”
Hawke hung a 'back in an hour' sign on the exterior door, as she shut it behind them. After turning her key in the lock and rattling the doorknob for a moment, she decided she was satisfied that the lock would hold. It was definitely on her mental list of upgrades, but she'd need to get at least the deposit from a decent-paying job or two to be able to cover the cost of a good locksmith.
Turning from the door, Hawke followed Aveline down the steps and onto the Lowtown street below.