Hawke was sitting at her desk shuffling through the stack of correspondence she'd received that day, stretching her neck and back to loosen muscles still taught from her late night of seemingly endless spelunking through the ridiculously hollow Kirkwall coast. The well wishes from people she only half remembered were the hardest to deal with, usually. Everyone else wanted something – either help or to divest of her of her money through ridiculously transparent schemes – but these people wanted to thank her. She had to struggle to remember the names and events that might have put this person in her path and then inexplicably plucked them away from the destruction that she left in her wake. She didn't feel like she saved many people or that anyone should be thanking her. Adding in that she never remembered names – often too fueled by adrenaline to do so anyway but also never grasping that particular social nicety once she was in Kirkwall and was expected to actually remember and interact with people – well the whole thing made her feel terrible.

After the hard to read letters were some requests for assistance and a few rumor reports from Varric's runners and shipping notices, bills, invoices, and other necessities of keeping up the house to mother's standards. These she would pass off to Bodahn since she refused to let him grovel and clean and instead used his fine merchant mind to keep her household books in order.

At the bottom of the pile, having arrived very early that morning while she was still out mopping up another slaver den was a note that looked hastily scratched out and was much shorter than the customary letters she received which gave her a ridiculous number of titles and started with all manner of praise, grandiose pronouncements about her prowess or intelligence, and other assorted horseshit. She read it and then read it again – it had to be a joke, right?

Dear Marian Hawke,

Please meet me in the Keep.

-King Alistair of Ferelden

Surely one of Aveline's guards was playing with her or maybe Varric was having some kind of laugh. Or someone else even, expecting her to show off her "Ferelden-ness" at being summoned by the King for some sort of poor machination or joke. She'd certainly been jerked around by people in Kirkwall enough to expect something of that sort but… well it seemed rather bold and transparent.

After staring at the letter and reading it yet again, as if there was some hidden meaning she could glean but that just hadn't become apparent yet, she rose from her desk and went out to the balcony. Bodahn appeared promptly when called, bowing in that manner she'd practically begged him to stop doing while she descended the stairs toward him.

"Yes, Messere?"

"Bodahn, who delivered this message?," she asked as she handed it over to him and watched him look across it. "One of the Viscount's messengers delivered it this morning, Messere, along with the other request from the Viscount, which was sealed."

She'd seen the sealed request – another request to talk to the Arishok on behalf of the city about… something or other. She'd stopped paying too much attention to the nature of the requests because the Arishok invariably already knew anything she'd be sent there to talk about and was usually far more helpful than that weasel Seneshal Brann or the Viscount himself. The Arishok was taciturn, difficult, riddlesome, but blessedly blunt – a quality Hawke appreciated immensely.

"This request wasn't sealed? Just three lines, no seal?"

"Just so, Messere."

"Bodahn, would you be willing to come with me to the Keep to honor this request? I can't believe that the king would request my presence at all and you travelled with him and the Hero during the blight, so you'd know far better than I what he actually looks like."

"I'd be pleased to acquiesce to any request you have for me, Messere, as I am, after all your humble manservant."

Hawke rolled her eyes. She would swear he did this on purpose just to irritate her if he hadn't been so constant and persistent in his need to pay back some imagined debt. Finding Sandal in the Deep Roads hardly warranted him leashing himself to her service and it definitely did not warrant this ridiculous and constant show of deference.

"Thank you, Bodahn. Allow me to change and we'll go shortly."

Turning to head back up the steps, she was stopped short by her mother who had a hopeful, eager look on her face.

"You were really summoned by the King? King Alistair requested you personally?"

"It would appear so, mother. Would you like to come with me? I have a feeling that I'm utterly out of my depth here."

"No, dear, as much as I would love to see you received by royalty, it wouldn't be proper. He summoned you alone by name. I'd argue against taking Bodahn except that it is totally appropriate to take a personal attendant."

"Mother, don't encourage Bodahn in his servitude. I didn't ask for it and, while I do appreciate his management of the household, his refusal to take payment chafes at me. It means I'm keeping a slave and I can't stand that."

"He's not a slave, dear, he's pledged his service to you. Why you can't accept that for the gift that it is I will never understand." Leandra sighed and placed her hand on her obstinate daughter's cheek. "But go, get yourself ready for your audience with the king and please put on a dress and not your armor. You are not a warrior, you are a lady being summoned to the keep and the King will expect you to look like a lady, not some ruffian."

Hawke bit back at the natural reply to this which was that she was indeed a ruffian and not a lady at all and wouldn't it be better to be honest. "I have other things to do in the city today, mother. And besides, haven't you always claimed it's best to be honest?"

Leandra huffed at her daughter's smirk and twinkling eyes, but there was no rancor in it. "Yes dear, I'm sure you know best."

Hawke ascended the stairs and gave herself a quick wash, making sure she didn't have any remnants of blood or filth on any visible portions. She was sure it was her imagination but slavers seemed to bleed more than just about any other man or beast she'd fought. Or Fenris tore through them with such fury that their blood and bits just splattered further. It was hard to say. While she dressed she smiled at the thought of Fenris in battle and the stark difference between him in that setting with his determined and stony cold face, his occasional screams of pure anger, the feral way he tore through groups of armed attackers and Fenris at ease, sipping wine, face placid and filled with flirtatious humor. Remembering their most recent private conversation made her feel a little flushed. "There are few pleasures greater than speaking to a beautiful woman," said with that smirk, leaned forward, voice dropped to a lower, rumbling timbre that plucked at her in a way she couldn't describe. Flirting with Fenris felt both more dangerous and more satisfying that flirting with anyone else had ever been. And flirting was something she was very comfortable with. It got her deals, it opened doors, and it eased a lot of the trickier points of being an armed female who needed to get things done. And she never did it maliciously or with ill intent. The last thing she needed was someone feeling lead on or jilted because she let a little banter go too far.

Despite her mother's protests, she strapped on her well worn, well fitted leather armor. Would she need shin guards and vambraces? Most likely not. Would she simply feel more comfortable wearing them? Absolutely. She'd take the time to do her hair and put on a dress when her mother insisted, but if she were going to the Keep to potentially walk into a trap – or worse, an actual meeting with Royalty – she wanted to be as at-ease as possible and as prepared as she could be.

She met Bodahn in the foyer and asked him and her mother if there was some protocol to this like if she was expected to curtsey or kiss his ring or come bearing gifts.

"A curtsey would be appropriate, as would a bow. Don't you dare go grabbing for his hands to kiss them. His guards would probably tackle you if you tried to touch him."

Bodahn piped up and said "I'm not sure how your customs are, but I do remember that the young man quite liked cheese if you were going to bring a gift."

Hawke couldn't tell if Bodahn was putting her on. "Cheese? You're suggesting I just hand over a hunk of cheese to the King?"

Bodahn smiled placidly and shrugged "I do not know your customs so it may not be a good idea, but he certainly did enjoy his cheese."

"Well, that's a thought. Okay, right, well, I'm off then. Wish me luck, mother," Hawke leaned over to kiss her mother on the cheek before the two of them headed out. Instead of going directly toward the Keep, which the house was situated at the very foot of, she veered instead to the market, deciding to throw caution to the wind and bring the King a gift.

She asked the stall keeper to put together a sampler of what he considered to be their finest selections, since she knew nothing at all about cheese except that some was okay to eat when it was blue and some was not and that she was a little appalled at ever having to actually learn the difference. Cheese to her came in a block, was a little strong and chalky, and was best had with some kind of fruit and fresh bread. It was usually a milky color, sometimes closer to yellow or orange and anything else was probably spoiled, so why bother? The cheese stall proprietor was more than happy to babble at her about cheese names and accompaniments, some of which she took note of, but most of which completely floated happily over her head. She asked that he package them all up in a basket or bag, something that would keep for a while, while she grabbed a few other items. She also picked up a few apples and a bunch of grapes as well as some quince jam, which the cheese stall owner said was particularly good with one of the items he was packing for her. While the owner had told her that thin wafer crackers were best with these kinds of cheeses, she just couldn't wrap her head around handing a bundle of dry crusty bits of bread to the King.

All her other purchases secured, she swung back to the cheese shop for the actually very lovely basket the proprietor had put together for her for what she felt was an exorbitant price and, having another thought, swung back past home. If she was going to do something this ridiculous, she was going to go all out.

Her mother was surprised to see her back, but Hawke just held up a hand to forestall any questions and continued her march through to the kitchen where she picked up a loaf of bread that her mother had baked that morning. It was still fragrant, though no longer warm. It smelled warm and homey and right to her somehow. She tucked it along with the fruit and the jam in among the cheese basket, covering it all with one of her mother's embroidered tea towels. Her mother, as she headed back out the door, shook her head and looked embarrassed but didn't stop her. Leandra had learned long ago that her daughter was going to do whatever she wanted to do. She also knew that there was little she couldn't charm her way out of, so even if it was ridiculous to give the King of Ferelden a picnic lunch, there would be some explanation she'd dream up that would seem perfectly reasonable.

Heading through the doors of the Keep, there were certainly more guards than usual throughout the main chamber and up along the balcony that held the Viscount's office. The note hadn't said where in the keep she could expect to meet the king, so she just went to wherever there were more guards, figuring that there would be a heavier contingent directly around the king. This happened to be the Viscount's office.

As she approached, wending through local and foreign guards like they were purposefully making an odd little obstacle course of the steps, she was accosted by a feminine hand in her face and Seneschal Brann's snide, nasal voice.

"The Viscount is in a meeting and cannot be disturbed by anyone, especially you, Messere Hawke."

Hawke looked around to see if any of the guard was listening – none of them were obviously paying attention - and so she cleared her throat and spoke in a loud and clear voice that she knew would carry well – "oh no, Brann – I came to see you personally. Our mutual friend told me about the awful rash you picked up at the docks and I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright. I'd be happy to reorder the salve for you at any time if the problem rears its ugly head again." The guards were definitely listening now. "Oh! I almost forgot, I also came to see King Alistair. I received a note asking me to appear here for an audience with him."

Brann, red faced now with that eye twitch he got when Hawke managed to get under his skin in just the right way choked out, still in his haughty tone – impressive that he could hold onto it so well – "Really? The King asked you here? You're sure about that?" Bodahn stepped forward and produced the note with a flourish and then stepped back again with precision. It occurred to Hawke then that perhaps Bodahn actually enjoyed playing the officious little manservant role. Brann checked it over skeptically and heaved a sigh. "You will wait here,"he bit out, in the tone of a threat more than an order. He ducked through the office doors and Hawke bounced on the balls of her feet, arms swinging, looking around at the guards.

When Brann returned several minutes later, she was in the midst of a conversation with one of the King's guards, trying to determine if the King really did like cheese or not, but the man had been no help at all in that department. Brann was quickly followed by a taller man with coppery blonde hair cropped short except for one braid that ran from his crown and was tucked behind one ear. He sported a neat goatee the same color as his hair. His clothes were of noble cut but he had a ready smile and kind eyes. Brann introduced him as Bann Teagan, the King's advisor for this trip.

Bann Teagan held out his hand to Hawke and she took it as if to shake it but he bowed low over her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "Lady Hawke," he said as he rose, smiling, "I trust you haven't been kept waiting for long, His Majesty was most eager to meet you. He's just finishing his meeting with the Viscount and he wanted me to ensure that you were comfortable while we waited." Before Hawke could say anything in response, he gestured toward a small vestibule with chairs just around the corner and offered her his arm.

It was the oddest greeting she'd had in her entire life and she had no idea what to do except just go along with it. She tucked her hand into his elbow and allowed herself to be lead to a chair. Teagan took the chair opposite her and seemed to be nothing but pleased to see and meet her. Bodahn took up a stiff at-attention position well behind her chair. After a few beats when she realized she should probably speak, she finally managed "Thank you for your greeting, Bann Teagan. But please, no one here actually refers to me as "Lady Hawke". It's just "Hawke". My mother's family is noble to their roots, but I was raised far away from that sort of fanfare and it hasn't really taken hold."

Teagan laughed good naturedly, "Well in that case we can dispense with the titles altogether. Call me Teagan, please."

"Well, now that we've figured out what to call each other, can you tell me why exactly I've been asked here by the King of Ferelden? I'm hardly well-known there – I'm closer to infamous here, to be honest, and only in certain circles. I can't imagine what his Majesty might have to say to me."

Teagan beamed again, and Hawke had the impression he had made it his life's goal to be the most affable man in Thedas. "His Majesty has had a keen interest in Kirkwall for several years since so many of Ferelden's refugees ended up in the Free Marches and Kirkwall specifically. There is also, of course, a vested interest in strengthening relations between nations. While keeping a finger on the pulse of activities here your name arose more than once, though most accounts were… a little difficult to decipher."

Hawke laughed and relaxed slightly – this was about Varric's tall tales and that was easy enough to deal with. "Teagan, you can't listen to stories in Kirkwall – especially anything having to do with me. A friend of mine is something of a story teller and… if I'm being kind, I would say that sometimes things get exaggerated."

"And if you weren't being kind?"

"Then I'd say he outright lies."

Teagan seemed delighted by this, smiling and chuckling appreciatively.

"Well, regardless of the relative truth of it, we do know that you've managed in just a few years to go from Ferelden refugee to living in an old manor home with your family's titles restored on the back of your own work. You've also become something of a hero to the other refugees here in the city and we know that you've been generous with coin and time. That is reason alone for His Majesty's interest. I'm sure the story we heard about you taking on an entire army of Tevinter Magisters who breathed fire and summoned waves of demons to dog your efforts was just icing on the cake."

Hawke shook her head at that, grinning "I hadn't heard the fire breathing bit. In truth it was a group of 8 slavers in a single cave with one magister and he only summoned a few demons."

Teagan shook his own head at that "Oh is that all then? Just a few demons?" He laughed a little as if at some private joke. "Yes I think you and His Majesty will get along just fine. Let me just go now and see if his meeting is at an end and find a suitable location within the Keep for you to talk. I won't be but a moment."

Teagan set off to the Viscount's office and Hawke twisted around in her chair to look at Bodahn, "Have I made an idiot of myself yet?"

"Not at all, Messere."

"Somehow I think you're just placating me, Bodahn."

Bodahn managed to look scandalized, utterly sincere, and impish at the same time "Perish the thought, Messere."

Hawke narrowed her eyes at him by way of reply and he simply stared back at her placidly, silly manservant smile unwavering.

She didn't have long to wait, the sound of the approaching King was heralded by a great clanking of armor. The King must have a permanent headache from the constant noise of his guard clattering around behind him. Hawke was suddenly more nervous than she'd ever been. The King of Ferelden was more frightening than the Arishok in her mind - mainly because her mother would never berate her with questions about her manners after talking to the Arishok. When the contingent rounded the corner, Teagan was chatting with the man who was obviously King. Assuming she should stand for this, Hawke rose from her chair but didn't know what to do with her hands and after a few false starts – on hips? Too petulant; at your sides? Too casual; behind your back? Too shifty- ended up lacing her fingers together and letting her hands hang in front of her, schooling her features into something she felt was neutral.

The King stood even taller than Teagan and was wearing just as much plate armor as any of his guard. He seemed impossibly huge, shoulders wider than most of his guards, chest broad, a golden halo of hair crowning a handsome face with bright soft brown eyes, a chiseled jaw, and a strong nose set above a mouth that was currently quirked into a smirk that managed to look natural and well humored instead of snide. The only thing that Hawke could think was that she was being put on – that someone had gone out and put together and incredibly elaborate hoax for no discernible purpose and managed to find a man to play the part of king who looked like something out of an Orlesian romance novel.

Then, memories floated up of Cailan, who she saw a glimpse of at Ostegar in his golden armor. Both Maric and Cailan had been similarly handsome and golden and swooned over and the family resemblance was clear. It made Hawke wish she still had some Ferelden coin so she could compare the profile in front of her to those of Marric and Cailan that graced the coins she'd last seen.

Teagan led the contingent to where Hawke stood and gestured at her as the guards and their stomping came to a stop. "Your Majesty, may I present Marian Hawke." And there it was. No escaping it now. Hawke knew she should curtsey but she was suddenly stuck in place, confronted with this huge wall of handsome and important. Thankfully the king saved her by extending a hand, which she took to shake and much to her her relief he did not turn it and kiss it. That earned the king a pointed look from Teagan, but Hawke immediately felt more comfortable not being treated like a noblewoman.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Messere Hawke. As Teagan may have told you, we have heard quite a bit about you while gathering information before our visit and actually quite a bit more since arriving. The Viscount in particular was very complimentary regarding the assistance you've been able to provide him personally in dealing with the Qunari in the city. "

"Thank you, your Majesty, but please, it's just "Hawke", there's no need for honorifics. Teagan did tell me a little about why you might have requested this audience. Uh… well... I guess when a King makes it it's not really a request is it? Or does that only apply in your home country? For instance – if I got a note from Empress Celene telling me to pop around for tea, would I need to consider that a royal summons or just a friendly invitation from a foreign dignitary? … And I'm officially rambling. I'm sorry, your Majesty." Hawke was mortified. She'd somehow become Merrill for just a second there.

Alistair just smiled more broadly at Hawke's tangent "Well, it was a request, but don't tell Celene I said that the next time you're nibbling little cucumber sandwiches with her. I'm not sure she'd agree."

Hawke felt a wave of relief wash over her. Humor she could work with – this might not be so bad after all. "I'll try to keep it just between the two of us, your Majesty, but I'm disturbingly easy to bribe so I make no promises."

Alistair grinned at that "Oh really? And what is your personal weakness?"

"I'm sorry, your Majesty, but I'm afraid I'd require a bribe to tell you. It's a tricky circular kind of thing."

That earned an outright guffaw from the King. Hawke felt mildly proud of herself.

Teagan was smiling but there was an edge in his voice when he interrupted – Hawke got the sense that this kind of bantering could go on all day if Teagan wasn't there to step in. "Your Majesty, perhaps we can set up a room for you to talk? The Viscount has offered his office, for instance."

Hawke interrupted here "Actually, your Majesty, talking in the Viscount's office would be… well it would be uncomfortable, really. For me, if not for you. I can assure you that you needn't remember anything that you spoke with the Viscount about because it has been thoroughly cataloged and recorded by whichever pasty spy he has hiding in his walls today." Here Hawke leaned in conspiratorily "I always like to imagine that it's Seneshal Brann stuck in there, feeling underappreciated and dejected while he scribbles his notes."

Teagan looked somewhat taken aback, but Alistair himself just continued to look bemused. "I would suggest, actually, going to the Guard Captain's office."

Alistair got a curious look "Why would the Guard Captain's office be better?"

"Because the Guard Captain was one of the King's Army at Ostegar, and would, first of all, be very happy to meet you, but also be more than willing to keep anyone well away from the door. Using her own fists as deterrents if necessary. Maybe even if it isn't necessary."

"Well, then lead on, Hawke," Alistair said, gesturing her forward instead of offering his arm as Teagan had done, which earned another look from Teagan that the King either didn't see or chose not to acknowledge. Hawke glanced back to ensure that Bodahn was following with their basket for the king. Not that she need have worried. He looked solemn and austere like he was carrying something of great importance and wealth and not just a basket of semi-stinky cheese. Hawke lead them across the gallery to the barracks, and was thankful when the city guards made room for the King's Guards and only gawked a little. Hawke rapped on the Guard Captain's door and waited for the gruff "Enter" before swinging the door open.

"Aveline! I have a visitor for you!"

"Oh, Maker Hawke, what is it this time? " Aveline groused without looking up from her desk.

"King Alistair is here to take over your office, you don't mind, right?"

Aveline snapped her head up and immediately went the deepest shade of crimson ever seen on a face in the history of faces. She shot to her feet and then immediately fell into a kneeled position, head down in fealty.

Alistair waved his hands at her as if he was embarrassed "Please, Guard Captain, rise, there's no need for that. It's a pleasure to meet you. Hawke said you were at Ostegar as part of the King's Army."

"Yes, your Majesty. It is an honor to meet you. What happened at Ostegar was a great tragedy."

Alistair's face fell into a very somber state. He was clearly still aggrieved by the events at Ostegar, "Thank you, Guard Captain, and yes, I quite agree. Thankfully the man responsible for that tragedy has paid for his crimes. It will never erase the losses the country suffered there, but it may at least be a start in putting to rights everything that was lost during the Blight."

Aveline still only glanced at the king, eyes mostly averted as if looking at him directly might lead to heavy censure or perhaps the hand of the Maker smiting her where she stood. "If I may ask, your Majesty, what brings you to Kirkwall?"

"We're exploring strengthening our relations throughout the Free Marches and are meeting with city-state leaders and stewards wherever possible. I've been told that the first few years of a king's reign are crucial for setting up these long-term alliances and have rarely been in Denerim at all, truth be told, a situation I have no complaints about."

Teagan cleared his throat at that. "Yes, Teagan, giving away too much, shouldn't speak my mind after all, I'm just the King." Alistair had a rueful look on his face – this was obviously a conversation he'd had many times.

"Aveline, would it be okay with you if the king took over your office for a short time? I hate to shoo you away but outside of dragging him to my own home, which I can't imagine would be appropriate – though wouldn't my mother adore that - I can't think of a more suitable place to talk."

Aveline replied smoothly, composure regained, "Absolutely, Hawke, I was just about to check on Noodle and how his training with the guards was going anyway. Please, feel free to use my office as long as you need." Aveline bowed again to the king and to Teagan as she took her leave, the King's guards parting for her.

"Noodle? Did I hear her correctly? What in blazes is Noodle?" Alistair looked amused but confused.

"Ah, well, Noodle is my mabari. He trains Aveline's guards. Or, as she puts it, teaches them healthy respect. Even in our new estate and with frequent walks, Kirkwall really isn't the place for a mabari used to running the moors and wilds. So Aveline has him 3 or 4 times a week to chase down screaming men and women. He enjoys it."

"Hah! I imagine he does. But Noodle? That is the oddest name for a Mabari I've ever heard. And the Hero of Ferelden called hers "Xerxes". So add that to the list of stories I'd like to hear."

Hawke grinned "It's not that interesting your Majesty. But please, have a seat, arrange your guard however you like and we'll talk. I don't know how any of you even move in that armor, let alone stand around in it chatting."

Alistair took his seat, sending the guard out along with Teagan when his eyes landed on Bodahn for the first time. "Bodahn! That is you isn't it? What on Thedas are you doing here?"

"Hello, your Majesty. Bodahn Feddic at your service. It's good to see you well. May I express my condolences about your Grey Warden companion. She is certainly missed. As for why I am here, well, Messere Hawke saved my boy Sandal while we were all in the Deep Roads and then allowed my boy to stay in her home once we'd returned. It's all an ugly story, but without another way to compensate her for her kindness, I pledged my service to her as her faithful manservant."

Alistair looked a little stunned and shook his head, "Maker! I'm going to need a longer sheet of parchment for this list of stories, I see."

"Yes, well, I think Bodahn just covered most of it. He did leave out the part where I told him I didn't need or want a manservant and that he and Sandal were welcome to stay regardless. He also left out my nearly daily and sometimes hourly begging for him to please stop calling me Messere and to allow me to pay him for his service. He is absolutely the most stubborn Dwarf I've ever met." Hawke narrowed her eyes at Bodahn, who coughed lightly and gestured with his eyebrows and a little head tilt at the basket he still carried.

"OH! Your Majesty, I forgot..." Hawke began, but was interrupted. "Please, in private, just call me Alistair. If I had my way no one would call me Majesty at all, but at least in private I can have this one thing my way."

"Well then, of course, Alistair." Hawke smiled. Handsome, Funny, willing to laugh at her stupid jokes, and humble to boot. No one would ever believe her. She waved Bodahn over and he presented the king with the basket as Hawke explained. "After I saw your note I realized I didn't know what protocol there was in meeting a king and Bodahn said you liked cheese. So I went to the market and put together a little basket for you. I hope what's included is to your liking. Most of the accompaniments were the recommendations of the shop owner, though the bread is from my own kitchen. My mother baked it this morning so it should be fresh."

Alistair was already picking through the basket and breaking off bits of cheese, popping them in his mouth, before she was even finished. "This is amazing! Best greeting gift I've ever gotten. I've never seen Orlesian Brie outside of Orlais before and the stinky Roquefort here is perfectly stinky indeed. This is very thoughtful."

Hawke felt the rest of her tension flee at that. That was the last potential hiccup as far as she was concerned. Cheese basket accepted, she could just focus on answering questions and talking. Talking was never a problem for Hawke. While the king continued to munch on grapes and tear off hunks of bread – the man was eating like he was starved - Hawke continued.

"I'm glad to hear it. I wasn't sure if I would look ridiculous handing over a basket of snacks but I was willing to risk it."

Bodahn, seeming to sense that his presence was no longer required, bowed, "If that is all Messere Hawke, I will return to the estate to tend to your mother."

"You mean you'll return to the estate to report back to her about how many social faux pas I've made since we walked through the door to the Keep, right?"

"If Lady Amell were to ask, it would be my duty to tell her, Messere."

Alistair's head snapped up at that, but he continued to just chew thoughtfully while Hawke finished talking to Bodahn. "Yes, I'm sure it would be, Bodahn. And mother never gives you grief about your incessant use of titles. I know you favor her, it's okay, fly away little spy," Hawke intoned with a voice that sounded sad and put upon, but couldn't hide her smirk and Bodahn was smiling back at her with that little twinkle in his eye as he bowed again to them both and left.

Alistair had watched the end of this exchange with a quirk of humor to his features "Is that, uhm… normal, between the two of you?"

"What, you mean the bickering?"

Alistair nodded and Hawke smiled "Absolutely. At first I thought it was one level of subservience that he used all the time but I came to understand that Bodahn is sarcastic about half the time he speaks. Why we keep up the charade, I have no idea, but maybe he just feels bored otherwise. I imagine it's terribly dull being my steward. My companions come and go and are rarely a bother to anyone but me, mother's needs are simple, and really the biggest problem is Sandal occasionally swinging from the chandelier or creating an enchantment that backfires and causes some level of damage."

Alistair nods thoughtfully, "Hmmm, yes, I remember his enchantments being… powerful." Alistair trailed off talking for a moment and seemed to be thinking. "So – I need to ask… your mother is Lady Amell? Is there any relation to the Hero of Ferelden?"

Hawke laughed at that. "Your spies are paid too much if they haven't been able to get even that bit of information, Alistair. Yes, I'm the daughter of Leandra Amell and Malcolm Hawke. The Amell family was originally from Kirkwall but one of mother' cousin's moved to Ferelden in the midst of the scandalous fact that Solona, their daughter, was found to be a mage. They were at least thoughtful enough to abscond to a country with a more humane circle before turning her over. Magic has always run in the Amell family as has extreme piety – which means that a great many Amells have ended up in circle towers as soon as their magic manifests. It was only scandalous this time because my grandfather was about to claim the Viscount's seat."

Alistair nodded, but didn't interrupt. He had never heard anything about Solona's family and wanted to know anything he could.

Hawke continued, "Unfortunately, if you're hoping for more information about Solona, I'm not a help to you. I never knew her, but did meet her parents once. They seemed nice enough, as far as "nice" might apply to the type of people who would turn you in to the Templars without a second thought." Hawke noted and attempted to correct the clear bitterness in her voice as that last bit came out. " I went with mother alone because of it. I was around 12 at the time. Solona had already been at the tower for several years at that point. From what I understand she manifested her magic very early, earlier than most mages."

Hawke went quiet then, thinking about that cousin she hadn't known and the way it must have felt… having magic and being turned in like something unwanted. Bethanny, at least, had never endured that.

"You know, Alistair, I'm surprised that you haven't sought out this information before. From what mother has told me, Solona's parents are still alive and living in Ferelden somewhere, though the blight scattered everyone so we can't be sure where exactly they've settled now. Solona probably didn't have much memory of them, of course, but they wouldn't be difficult to track down. "

Alistair continued to look somber, "Well, I have a bit of a bad track record with hunting down family. Frankly, I was a bit scared of what I might find. And I don't have spies at all despite what you might think. I've never been very good at all that sneaky business. "

Hawke shook her head, "Well then that's something we'll have to rectify for you. I mean, even *I* have access to a spy network that I trust. Surely the king of an entire country should as well. I can guarantee that every noble in your country has at least one spy on their payroll working in your palace. And that many of them have spies working in the households of other noble families. I know it's unsavory, and I wouldn't suggest going that far – but you need to know what's going on in other countries at least. I'm sure your advisors would agree and if they don't then you also need new advisors"

Alistair laughed, "That sure of your correctness are you?"

"Absolutely", and Hawked beamed a full, toothy smile at him. She was actually really enjoying talking to the King of Ferelden. Not just tolerating. Enjoying. And the big smile and ruddy cheeks of his face seemed to indicate that he was enjoying it too. How would she ever explain this to Varric?

Hawke tried valiantly to get the subject back around to something neutral so that she didn't overstep something and come across as if she was flirting. Now was not the time to turn on that particular facet of things. She didn't need information, she didn't need to haggle down a price, and she didn't need to put someone on their heels and confuse them. Flirting was not appropriate in the situation, no matter how tempting it might be. She rarely had the opportunity to ply her charms on someone so… worth the effort. "So, not to change the subject entirely, Alistair, but what did you actually hope to accomplish in Kirkwall? While I know little of the political landscape in Ferelden, I might be able to provide a city-eye view of anything that might be important here."

Alistair also seemed to sober, clearing his throat, "Well, I have concerns about the circle and the Templars here as well as the Qunari. While they've apparently been quiet so far, I can't imagine that will last. "

Hawke thought about her response for only a moment. "It won't last. And… I think the Viscount may have been misleading. I wouldn't call the Qunari quiet. They've been far more reasonable than they were expected to be, certainly. And honestly, far more reasonable than I think they should be at this point. But it is not because they haven't been provoked. It isn't common knowledge, but elements within the city – especially within the chantry – have gone out of their way to provoke the Arishok. He's displeased and has hinted on a few occasions that he'd rather just raze the city than deal with our ways."

Alistair popped up from his seat and began slowly pacing. He was clearly one of those who liked to puzzle out situations while moving. "If he hates being here, why has he been here all this time? That's what I don't understand. It's hardly in their nature to simply hang about like this."

"The Arishok is not what I'd call forthcoming, however, from what I've been able to get out of him it's clear that he's being kept here because something was stolen from him, something he must regain before he can return to Par Vollen. Let me tell you, that man can sneer like he invented the facial expression. He's getting angrier by the day and the more extremist elements in the city continue to push. The Viscount means well, I'm sure, but his inaction and unwillingness to censure those who are responsible for those provocations is only going to end in destruction and bloodshed. I understand his fear of the Chantry, but he gives them far too much power. The Grand Cleric, Elthina, is not a rabble rouser. She's civil and thoughtful. She would listen to reason and she would do everything she could to stop those fringe elements under her charge from continuing. But the Viscount has done nothing to stop it. "

Alistair had a hand to his chin while he listened, eyes far away, processing this information. "The Viscount said that the Arishok asked for you by name recently and that you've become something of the diplomatic envoy to Qunari. "

"I don't know if I'd go that far. At this point, I'm an errand girl. But it seems that no one else in the city, especially the Viscount, is currently willing to deal with them. It has to fall to someone and so far that someone has been me. I don't think I've made anything worse yet, but that's as much as I can boast about my diplomatic skills."

Alistair nodded and sighed, "Sounds about where I stand. I count myself lucky if I manage to get out of most meetings without having to apologize for something I did, said, didn't say, didn't do, or may have implied with some type of facial expression. "

Hawke smiled again "Ah well I'm sure it's not that bad, you've been perfectly charming since I've met you at least." The king shot her a thankful smile. "At this point, the Arishok is putting up with me. I spend far too much time in their compound or dealing with his Karastaan and I'm sure that my never ending questions and conversation do nothing but annoy him. But I also see how the powers of this city are provoking him without cause. A diplomat who can do nothing but sympathize is rather useless, and that's precisely the position I've been put in."

Alistair seemed far away for a moment as he wandered back to the chair opposite her. "You know, we had a Qunari fight with us during the blight. Sten. Though he didn't have horns and wasn't quite as large as the Qunari you have here from what I've been told. From what I understood he was told to find out what the blight was."

"Then he was Beresaad. I haven't met any of them. It's all soldiers and scouts and Viddethari in the compound here."

Alistair held up his hands "I fought with him, I rarely to spoke to him so there were significant parts of that I missed. But… is it really as dire as you say?"

"Well let me put it this way… "Hawke leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "The Arishok is the leader of the military branch of the Qunari. He's not not a general, he is the general – the walking talking avatar of all their military might. He is a living embodiment of their way of life as well as their primary and most important military leader. And someone stole something from him. Something so important that he came and dealt with it himself." Sitting back as she watched Alistair absorb that, she added to drive the point home, " As a point of comparison, he sent a team of answer seekers out to investigate something as all encompassing as the blight."

Alistair didn't look panicked as the Viscount had when she'd made much the same point. He simply absorbed it, nodding. "Well then, I suppose more than Kirkwall should be ready for this to go badly and quickly."

"I will, of course, try to keep that from happening – I feel like I practically live at the compound these days. The guards at the gates don't even bother with making me state my business anymore." Grinning and leaning forward "I do have to say, it's very odd having the Arishok call me "serrah". Frankly if you had time in this visit, I'd recommend an introduction. It wouldn't stay his hand should he choose to invade Ferelden, but at least you'd be prepared for what that might be like."

"That's… well I was going to say comforting but I believe it's exactly the opposite of comforting."

Hawke grinned at him "I think I find dealing with the Qunari a welcome change from dealing with the nobles here. They're equally viscious and warlike but at least the Qunari follow some sort of moral code about it. Maybe their bluntness has rubbed off."

"Not a fan of the nobility? Something else we have in common it seems." Alistair had settled back in his chair and had his head tilted to the side as he watched her talk. He looked as if he were attempting to take her measure in some way, to figure something out.

"They're ever focused on the minutiae and blind to the larger scope of things. In my admittedly limited experience, they're best ignored when possible and if not possible, they're best put in their place."

Alistair grinned at that, "Hah! Eamon would swallow his beard if I ever said anything like that around him."

Hawke grinned right back mischievously "Let me guess, Eamon is a noble?"

Alistair chuckled, "As are you, Hawke."

Hawke scoffed at that "I'm as much a noble as you are a saucy lady of the evening, Alistair." Hawke blanched as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "Maker's Balls I just said that out loud to a king. I'm so sorry. If my mother were here she'd have keeled over dead roughly 20 minutes ago at my course manners. "

Thankfully, Alistair waved it away, and smiling sincerely at her. "Not at all, it's actually really refreshing having someone talk to me like a person. Which reminds me, I'm only in the city for another few days, but I might want to check in with you again before this visit is completed. Would that be alright with you?"

"Of course it would. Not only would I be happy to provide help to someone I don't loathe for a change, but you're actually good company. It's been… a really pleasant surprise."

Alistair fully blushed at that and mumbled out "Ah, well, that's me, utterly charming in a surprising way." He was looking anywhere but at her while the heat in his cheeks receded. Hawke had rarely seen a man wear his emotions so clearly on his face this way. It was simultaneously intriguing and worrying. If he was like this all the time, it would be far too easy for people to take advantage of him and she felt oddly protective of him – the same way she felt about those others in her circle of companions. Now that she knew him he was hers to protect.

Standing again, this time Hawke stood with him. "Maybe when I see you again I'll have another cheese basket for you as well – one twice the size given the way you demolished that one."

"I will never ever turn down cheese, my lady, but you needn't bother yourself. Now that I know there's a shop in town I'll be buying them out on my own. You may return to find they've no stock left at all." Alistair radiated good humor at this. "Do tell your mother though that the bread was lovely and that it makes me miss home. Maybe I will meet her before we leave."

"That could definitely be arranged. I'm sure she would love that and then you could see where the Amell nobility bit comes in since I'm a poor example."

Alistair extended a hand and once again shook hers when she responded. He bowed slightly and she did the same. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Hawke. It's a relief to see someone from Ferelden doing so well after the blight, even if they've had to do it in another country." And when he said it is wasn't a platititude or something that a king should say. He meant it, every word.

He turned and strode to the door, heading out with Hawke following at a respectful distance. He continued through the barracks and strode out into the main hall of the keep. Teagan hung back to take Hawke's hand and kiss it once again, bidding her goodbye.

Hawke just stood watching the contingent leave the keep as Aveline slowly made her way toward them through the gawking crowd of guardsmen. "I don't know how you do it, Hawke, but do you realize you just spent half an hour alone with the King of Ferelden in my office?"

Eyes still distant, watching the King's Guards filing out of the keep, Hawke sighed, "Yes, Aveline, believe me when I say that I really really do realize that."

Aveline was watching the scene as well "He really is something out of a story, isn't he?"

Hawke nodded "Like something Varric would make up. But well, less ridiculous."

"Speaking of Varric, you know he'll write about this." Aveline quirked an eyebrow at Hawke.

Hawke sighed. "Unfortunately, he will. All I can hope is that he takes this in the direction of accolades and attention and not the way he's written about … well… "

"… everyone else you've ever encountered? Including Seneschal Brann? I believe in the latest tale he's been spinning Senschal Brann is just off-putting due to his searing jealousy."

Hawke shuddered "I hadn't heard that one. That's… unsettling. Also, how could I possibly be both the avenger everyone fears and the goddess they all want to bed simultaneously? It makes no sense at all."

"His readership loves it." Aveline shrugged.

"Well then I hope the king is out of Kirkwall long before the tales of his visit start circulating." Hawke clapped her friend on the shoulder and began to leave.

Hawke could hear the smirk in Aveline's voice as she murmured "Don't bet on it."