One

Just over a year in Kirkwall and Melisande Hawke was almost despairing. At her every turn the Red Irons were hounding her steps, after her to do more jobs for them and then it seemed that every other desperate person in the city came to her for help. In a way in almost felt like she had no time for herself, what with all of that along with raising money for the deep roads expedition with Varric, looking after her mother and Bethany and making sure that Gamlen didn't burn his pathetic little house down. Sometimes she wished that she could have some time to herself, because even her alone time wasn't so alone these days, not with Isabela hounding her to get drunk every night at the Hanged Man and Anders wanting to talk mage freedom with her. Not that the mage freedom issue really bothered her all that much anyway, not least because she wasn't really all that fond of Anders' constant whining about the plight of the mages. Oh she liked him well enough of course, he was her friend and a good one at that but she just couldn't be sympathetic to his constant babbling.

Now, for once, she was alone and she relished it. It wasn't often she had a few spare moments to just take a walk through hightown market, take in the sights and sounds of the market stall holders annoying the nobility for their coin. She had even gone as far as to dress down a little for the occasion too, daring to step out without her armour. Today she was just a normal girl taking a walk around hightown in the sunshine. Of course she had her weapon on her, clearly strapped to her belt in full view of everyone. She still had to be cautious, despite the fact that she was off duty.

Yet, walking around this upper class area made her yearn for something more. As she wandered past stalls covered in beautiful Orlesian silk dresses towards the Chantry, she wished more than anything that she could have a little of the freedom that these people had, wished she had the coin to be able to treat herself to a new dress. But of course there were more pressing matters at hand than whether or not she could afford a new dress, there was an expedition to prepare for and people to help. And she was damn well going to make the most of her down time before the next urchin came running up to her for help.

By this point she was in front of the steps of the Chantry, had to tear her eyes away from her family crest above the old family estate. But there was something else that quickly took her attention and it was much more friendly on the eye. He was stood in front of the chanters' board, armour glinting in the sun, a longbow strapped to his back, and he was gently placing a notice up on the board. He was a tall young man, muscled, with dark hair that provided a wonderful contrast to his slightly tanned skin. Something about him made Melisande Hawke stop and stare, and she was unable to tear her gaze away from him even as the Grand Cleric walked up to him and began berating him loudly.

"Sebastian, stop this madness! The chantry cannot condone revenge Sebastian"

Hawke's heart began to beat harder as she heard him come back at the Grand Cleric, his accent was enchanting and it wasn't one that she had heard often. His was the voice of Starkhaven.

"It is my right, my duty, to show these assassin's that there is nowhere in the free marches to hide!"

"This is murder!" the elderly woman reached up to pull his notice down.

She didn't bank on him grabbing his bow, notching an arrow and firing it with such deadly accuracy that it pierced through the parchment, sending it flying from Elthina's hand into the Chanter's board, "No! What happened to my family was murder!" he pronounced it muhrduhr.

She looked shocked for a moment, staring back at this Sebastian in what seemed like horror as he turned and stalked away, his face like thunder.

All Hawke could do was watch him as he brushed past her, noticing as his deep blue eyes briefly looked her up and down. But he said nothing, just swept away. Who was this strange man with his Starkhaven accent? Why had he been arguing with the Grand Cleric? He looked like a nobleman, with his bright shining armour and his sure swagger. Not only that, but he was certainly handsome and very easy on the eye. Biting her lip, curiosity overcame her and she weaved her way through the crowds of people to the chanter's board and grabbed his notice, deft eyes scanning the beautifully scripted words. After a moment, her face set. So this man, this Sebastian was looking for help to de-seat a group of assassins who murdered his family and she wasn't sure why, but she knew she must help him. The time for down time was over, it was time to head back to Gamlen's and gather her friends. They were going assassin hunting.

Three days later

"The chantry? What are doing here? There are Templars in the chantry…" hissed Anders as Hawke stalked up the stairs towards the front door of the chantry.

Hawke stopped and turned to him, eyebrow raised as she took in his now worried appearance. His face seemed wrinkled with worry, and it almost made her laugh, especially with that ridiculous stubble he had taken to growing, "Shut up Anders, I'm here to help someone out…"

Fenris shuffled on his feet, obviously irritated with Anders. Nothing really changed there then, the two of them hadn't gotten along since the moment that Fenris had agreed to join their merry band of misfits, "Let's turn him over to the chantry, and get rid of his whining!"

"Oh you are naughty," giggled Isabella from behind them, "I like that…"

Hawke just shook her head and continued on up the staircase. Why did she insist on taking these three misfits with her almost everywhere she went? After all, two of them hated each other and she wouldn't be surprised if one day Fenris decided to do his magical fisting thing and mutilate Anders, or maybe Anders would freeze Fenris and then melt him into a pool of elf shaped water. And then there was Isabela and Fenris, who just kept on flirting. She wasn't entirely sure if Fenris even knew what it was that Isabela was getting at whenever she made her coy little remarks about him "glistening" or how she loved his eyes so much she wanted to wear them as a necklace, or maker forbid the colour of his underwear. This wasn't the time to put up with their constant banter at each other; she had other, much more important things to think about…

Such as finally getting to talk to that handsome stranger about his chanters' quest. And she wasn't about to admit it the others, but her stomach was so full of butterflies she thought she was going to throw up.

Maker's breath Hawke, stop worrying. He's only a man after all, and you've done him a favour…

Behind them, the others were still bickering. Anders was saying something to Fenris yet again how not all mages were bad blah blah. She didn't care really, not as she pushed open those huge wooden doors and stepped into the serene and quiet atmosphere of the chantry.

The chantry, it was somewhere you could always find peace and quiet. As a child back in Lothering she had spent many hours there with her brother, maker rest his soul, being taught the lore of Andraste. It pained her to admit it now, but she rarely visited these days. It had all become rather pointless since Carver had been killed. She still believed, of course she did, but at that moment in time she really didn't know how she could pray to the Maker when he had let Carver die in such a horrific way. Not that it mattered now of course, she was here for one thing only.

And he was stood in front of the huge statue of Andraste, gazing up at her figure, mouth moving silently in prayer. At least the others were quiet now, that had to be something. Biting her lip she walked up to him, letting the others loiter by the door. They seemed happier there anyway. She stopped beside the young man and looked up at the serene figure of Andraste and after a moment she muttered quietly to herself.

"Andraste forgive me…"

He moved slightly then, his attention now on her and her heart skipped a beat. After a moment she looked at him and gave him a cheeky smile, "So, will anyone smite me if I tell you I killed the men who wronged your family?"

The young man started and stared at her after a moment, and when he spoke his lilting Starkhaven accent sounded surprised, "My post to the chanters' board? You mean Her Grace let that stay? I thought for sure no one read but…you say you killed them?" He smiled then, "You have my eternal gratitude serah, and it is comforting to think that my parents may now rest easily in their graves"

Hawke nodded at him before crossing her arms and taking in his appearance. He certainly was dashing, and it embarrassed her somewhat to think that he was looking at her, talking to her of gratitude, "Who are you exactly?" she asked

"I am Sebastian Vael, prince of Starkhaven…"

She raised an eyebrow. A prince? That went a long way to explain the beautiful armour and the way he carried himself then.

He shrugged slightly after a moment, "Her grace might prefer I introduce myself as a brother of the chantry, but I could not stay after what happened to my family…I'm the last of my line, and unless I survive my family will have no justice…although you have gone some way to helping that cause I must say."

She was intrigued, could not tear her gaze from him, "Who sent those mercenaries?" she asked, "There were plenty of them…"

With a sigh he turned back to the statue of Andraste, "My family has ruled Starkhaven for six generations…we have enemies, but none who would identify themselves openly. A distant cousin of mine is claiming ruler ship now but he is a bit…" he curled his lip, "…simple. He can be no more than a pawn in this plot."

"You must have some idea as to who was behind it?" she muttered, her eyes grazing over the flickering lights of the candles lit around Andraste's feet.

He shrugged, "My parents were always prudent with how they handled their nobles. They did not allow rivalries or resentment to flourish. The attack must have come from outside, Kirkwall is our largest trading partner. I came back here to find support for my claim, and perhaps a clue as to who is behind this foul deed."

She turned to him again then, smiling sadly at him and feeling immensely sorry for this young man who seemed to have lost everything bar his religion, "Your parents probably don't care much at this point…" Well done Hawke, because that's a really great thing to say! "But I hope you can sleep a little easier."

He returned the smile; it reached his eyes and made them twinkle. He seemed to laugh at her lame excuse for a joke "Yes I hope I will. Thank you. Consider this an advance…" he handed her a small bag of coins, much to her shock, "when I have secured my lands again, you will be paid more royally."

She shook her head and went to hand the coin back, "oh no, I couldn't take this. I didn't do it for the coin."

"Take it please, for a job well done," he smiled, "You never told me your name Serah."

After a moment she put the coin purse in her pocket, feeling herself more than a little embarrassed at his show of gratitude, "Most people just call me Hawke."

"A powerful name, for a seemingly powerful woman. You will always be welcome here in the chantry Hawke; I do hope to see you again. Now if you'll excuse me, I must meet with the viscount and petition him for aid"

Her heart skipped a beat at that. Surely he didn't mean?

She ignored what her head was saying and bowed her thanks, "Thank you. Until next time Sebastian."

After a moment he turned and walked away, making his way to the doors of the chantry. He nodded his greetings at Isabela, Anders and Fenris before disappearing. All Hawke would do could stare after him, barely aware as her companions came over. It was only when Isabela whispered in her ear did she snap back to reality.

"Does someone have a crush kitten?"

Hawke glared at her, punched her friend on the arm none to gently, "I do NOT have a crush!"

The pirate queen giggled mischievously, "Oh come on Hawke, I could see how red you turned from the bloody doors over there. And who can blame you, he is rather dashing. I would love to see what's under that belt buckle of his…that well placed face of Andraste. Hmmm, maybe he's hiding something there," she giggled again, ignoring the look of loathing she got from Fenris.

Hawke just shook her head, "Fine, he is…kind of handsome. But you heard him; he's a brother in the chantry. I bet he's vowed to never…you know…"

"You're embarrassed to say it aren't you kitten?" gigged Isabela, "You and I are going to have a talk later on."

"Oh great," muttered Hawke, as she made her way out of the chantry trying her best to ignore the taunts of her companions. She knew what Isabela meant by talks and it usually involved copious amounts of bad tasting booze.

The Hanged Man was fast becoming her favourite place to come and drink the weariness of her days away. Nothing healed aching muscles more than some horrifically strong and bad tasting whiskey; mainly as it got her blindingly drunk very quickly. And what with Isabela sat opposite her, dark eyes boring into her soul, Hawke needed something to cushion the embarrassing blows that were about to come her way. Thankfully for Hawke, she was not alone. Varric and Merrill had joined them and were chatting about various goings on in and around Kirkwall.

"So…" said Isabela coyly, hugging her mug of ale with her hands, "Chantry boy eh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hawke muttered quickly, taking a large swig of her whiskey. She coughed as she felt it burn all the way down.

"Oh you know exactly what I mean kitten. And I know that you couldn't bring yourself to say what you wanted to say in the chantry earlier on…" she winked

"I was going to say that he had probably taken vows against marriage."

"And sex."

"I wasn't going to say anything about sex." Hawke could feel herself going redder by the second. There she was, the big bad warrior who could take down scores of men with her large broad two handed axe, getting embarrassed about sex.

The truth was, and not that she was going to admit it, was that she had never done the deed herself. She had never really bothered with boys back home, had much preferred her weapons training and teasing Carver as he lusted after the girls in Lothering. Boys and marriage had never really been on her mind and so neither had secret trysts in the bushes by the old mill. It had shocked her earlier on when she had been sat on her bunk back at Gamlen's and began thinking things of this mysterious Sebastian that she really shouldn't have been, imagined her lying in his arms experiencing the most wonderful ecstasy of making love to such a handsome man. She could imagine herself kissing him; imagine himself doing some very naughty things to him. By this point, as she remembered what she had thought and thus in turn bringing the thoughts back, she knew she was blushing.

Isabela smirked, "You're a virgin aren't you?"

Hawke coughed, and quickly took a gulp of whiskey to try and calm herself down. It didn't work, it just made her all the more hot and bothered, "What?"

"You heard me," whispered Isabela, "You're a virgin aren't you?"

Hawke placed her mug on the table and leant forward, whispering now in her own turn, "Ok ok, yes I am. Don't go bloody shouting it around the entirety of the pub please."

"Well well, little miss killing machine has never known the touch of man or woman. And now she has seen a little prince that has taken her fancy, she isn't sure how to deal with the fantasies she's having," Isabela giggled, "Oh lighten up Hawke" she said upon seeing Hawke's eyes flash in anger, "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Thankfully you have someone here who can help you out with that!"

Hawke shook her head, "OH I don't know…Bela, I'd rather just forget about him. I did my bit, helped him out of a tight spot and maybe I got a little too…excited about seeing a man I actually…thought I might like to spent some time with. He is a chantry brother; he will have taken vows…"

"You heard him though; he's left it all behind to take back Starkhaven. And come on, he is handsome isn't he? You don't have to hide it from me Hawke," Isabela crossed her arms, resting them on her ample bosoms.

"Fine, he is really quite handsome. Nothing will ever come of it."

Isabela raised an eyebrow and shook her head, "That's because you don't know what you're doing. You have to play men the right way Kitten, and do that you have to know how to service them. I can show you, if you like," she licked her lips and looked Hawke up and down. After all, Hawke was a beautiful woman with her long dark hair that fell about her shoulders in curls. Anyone would be lucky to get a taste of her.

Hawke raised an eyebrow, "You mean…with you? I don't think so Isabela…"

"Suit yourself," Isabela shrugged, "The offer is there though. You'll just have to take my other advice though…" She drained her mug and gestured at the barkeep to bring two more mugs over and as two full mugs of dirty brown ale were slammed on the table in front of them Isabela smiled knowingly at Hawke, "By the time we leave tonight, you're going to be a master in seducing handsome young chantry princes. And he's not going to know where to look."