The Seeker raised an eyebrow.
"What now?" Varric chuckled.
"Why suddenly treat me like a fool? You can't possible expect me to believe that the Champion devoted the rest of her life to the Chantry."
"And why not? Choir Boy was very attached to his vows. And even you must have heard about their relationship. What more natural choice than for them both to devote the rest of their lives to chastity for the Maker's sake?"
Cassandra's eyebrow managed to rise farther.
"Ok, ok. But remember, I wasn't there, so this is strictly on Hawke's word."
"I'm willing to accept that."
"It began when Choir Boy got up the courage to propose…"
Hawke's mind had been wandering. She couldn't understand how Sebastian could so lightly dismiss Starkhaven's claims. Hadn't he himself said that a city needed a strong hand in difficult times? But Sebastian's voice had taken on a more urgent tone.
She sighed, turned back to him, and found their faces inches apart. Her knees turned to jelly. All thought was instantly erased from her mind under the intensity of his eyes. He gently gathered her hands into his, sending a flash of fire through her body. All she could hear over the thundering of her heartbeat were the words, "marriage," and "never be separated."
Adara managed to catch enough breath to mumble something that sounded a lot like, "Ooooh." Over the last few years she had often imagined this moment. Usually she had imagined it with starlight and soft music, and not in the middle of a political discussion. This was so sudden. Could you really propose to someone you had never kissed?
"Will you?" Sebastian pressed. The warmth of his breath made her knees go wobbly again.
"Yes." She closed her eyes and leaned up on her toes to kiss him, feeling his lips softly brush her forehead.
"ELTHINA!"
Sebastian's shout of joy snapped Hawke's eyes open. She would have fallen forward if Sebastian hadn't kept her hands in his. Did the Chantry seem brighter? Had the clouds finally lifted or was she glowing brightly enough to make the statue of Andraste gleam a brighter gold?
"Gently, Sebastian," Grand Cleric Elthina's voice preceded her up the stairs. "What is so urgent?"
Adara beamed at the Grand Cleric, giving Sebastian's hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement.
"Your Grace," said Sebastian, pride overflowing from each word, "Hawke... Adara, has agreed to take her vows to the Maker and join me in a chaste marriage in His sight."
Ice replaced the fire that had been burning through Adara. In the sudden stillness she could feel her eyes going round and her jaw dropping in shock.
"Oh my," commented the Grand Cleric.
"Isn't it wonderful!" Sebastian released her hands and pulled an arm around her waist to guide her closer to the Revered Mother. "She will be your disciple and right hand, I am sure of it."
But Hawke would not be guided. Her frozen mind and frozen lips managed squeeze out one phrase.
"Chaste marriage?" she whispered.
"Oh my," repeated the Grand Cleric.
"CHASTE marriage?" This time it came out a bit louder. Adara was proud of herself for forming this reasonably coherent thought. Then it hit her.
"CHASTE MARRIAGE?" she shouted, wide-eyed and wild at the shocked man next to her. "But you! But we! SEBASTIAN HOW COULD YOU?"
"Gently, child," the Grand Cleric chided with a sigh. "Perhaps it would be better to discuss this privately?"
"You know my vow, Hawke. How could I give you anything else? But if we..." Sebastian began.
"Sebastian! You will continue this conversation in my office," Elthina interrupted. She gave them each a steely glare. "You will discuss it fully and not return to me until you have reached an understanding. Is that understood?"
"Of course, your Grace," answered Sebastian with a stiff bow. Adara could only gape at her.
"And no hitting," Elthina qualified thoughtfully.
This woke Adara.
"Not even a little?" she asked.
The Grand Cleric gave Hawke a speculative glance.
"Give me your gauntlets," she demanded. With a confused look Adara handed the Grand Cleric the heavy, armored gauntlets from her belt. Elthina accepted them with a nod and turned a stern glance to Sebastian.
"If Hawke hits you now, she is likely to hurt her hand. So try not to be too frustrating." With which she turned and walked slowly back down the stairs to the nave.
"The Grand Cleric's private office is this way," Sebastian's voice had a bit of steel in it. As Adara turned to follow him she realized that she had hurt his feelings. Well, what about my feelings? she griped to herself. I've just found out that the man I love wants me only for my mind! A wave of rejection and nausea rolled over her, forcing her to swallow hard. That is so WRONG! Everything is all wrong and upside down. She rubbed her palms against her eyes and was surprised when they came away damp with tears. How humiliating.
Sebastian ushered her into a book-lined room and closed the door. He drifted over to the large window overlooking the Chantry garden. He reminds me so much of Fenris when he broods like that, Hawke thought, which made her chuckle: a chuckle that came out as a sob.
Ok, enough of that! Pull yourself together and enough with the self pity bit, Hawke.
"So, you are giving up on Starkhaven entirely? You are abandoning your people on the brink of a war?" she shot across the room at Sebastian's back. The venom in her voice surprised her. It surprised Sebastian, too. He turned with a crease of confusion between his brows.
"Of course not. What are you talking about? What does that even have to do with..." he began, but Hawke interrupted.
"It has everything to do with us! If you're planning on dedicating us both to the Chantry then you've given up on Starkhaven."
"Hawke, how could I be worthy of you if I denied my vow to the Maker?"
"If you've dedicated your life to the Maker then why aren't you doing what He's asking you to?"
"I am! I'm here with my flock. This is where I vowed to stay."
"You are with a flock that already has good, sound leadership! Do you think that Starkhaven doesn't deserve a Maker-fearing man to lead it? Someone with the skill and determination to see it through? Can you honestly say that this distant cousin of yours is capable of defending your city if it comes to war?"
"I cannot take responsiblity for that decision unless there is a clear sign from the Maker."
Hawke threw her hands in the air in sheer frustration. "What sort of clear sign do you need? You are the last of your family. It is your DUTY to lead Starkhaven, and yet here you are, wondering what the Maker wants you to do!"
"Why are you changing the subject?" retorted Sebastian, finally angry in his turn. "Suppose I do take back Starkhaven? Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it is the Maker's will that I set aside my duties here in the Chantry and take up my duties as prince. How does that have any bearing on our marriage? There would be no need for us to be separated!" he stormed through clenched teeth. "If you do not want to marry me then we can part ways. But I always thought you were forthright enough to tell me so honestly and not hide behind Starkhaven!"
Adara watched his heaving chest for a moment before being able to look up to his flushed face. Fury barely masked the look of hurt there. His hurt added to hers sapped her anger and left her drained. Screaming at him, as good as it might feel, would not solve anything. She turned her back on his look of accusation and leaned against the side of a bookcase for support. The satin-smooth wood felt good against her hot forehead.
How could she explain her hopes to him? Her carefully reasoned arguments felt selfish and embarrassing to her now. Another nauseous wave of rejection swept through her, and she fought a hysterical laugh at the image of her green face making her even less attractive to the man on the other side of the room.
"Well?" Sebastian snapped, pulling her out of her reverie. Hawke took a deep breath and tried to make her ghosting thoughts materialize.
"Being prince of Starkhaven does not mean just leading it for a few years, Sebastian," Hawke murmured into the bookcase.
"Excuse me?" he came a few steps closer, trying to catch her words.
Hawke lifted her head away from the bookcase and spoke clearly, though she kept her burning face carefully averted. "You have to look to the future, Sebastian. Leading a city is not just the work of a few years. Be realistic. They will want you to produce an heir."
"That is not something I can provide," scoffed Sebastian. "My vow clearly..."
"It is something they can reasonably demand of you!" Renewed frustration brought a deeper flush to Adara cheeks as she whirled around to face him. "You are the last of your line. It is your duty to your family and to Starkhaven to provide continuity. Why do you think the Grand Cleric is so reluctant to allow you to renew your vows?" Her stomach twisted as she turned back to the comfort of her bookcase. "And what would become of me if I took a vow of chastity knowing all this? What would you do when your city's council demanded that you produce an heir? Would you have me foreswear myself, or would you set me aside and find another wife?"
"Adara, surely it wouldn't come to that," Sebastian answered gently. "We could make them see reason. Perhaps we could adopt..."
"City councils are not known for seeing reason on such matters. Many royal wives have been set aside for being barren, let alone for not even trying to conceive. And I have never heard of any royal adoption working out without bloodshed."
"And yet you would have me foreswear my vow," his tone was bitter.
"You aren't changing your mind for convenience, Sebastian. You haven't changed: the world around you changed when your family was killed. The Maker is requiring something new of you. How could I say the same when my situation is clear?
Sebastian groaned, and Adara heard him sit down: she listened to the scrunching sound of a leather seat cushion and the soft clack of his bow being set on the Grand Cleric's desk. She could not bring herself to turn and face him.
"Why am I even considering this?" his voice sounded muffled.
Her jaw ached and her hands began to rise into a fighting stance. Brace yourself. This isn't the sort of blow you can fend off with sword or armor, she warned herself. Take it like a woman. The silent seconds stretched to minutes. She stole a glance over her shoulder to see Sebastian sitting behind the desk, his head in his hands. If it takes him this long, he must be thinking of a way to let me down easy. Maybe she could help him.
"I realize now that was not the type of marriage you were suggesting, and I am sorry I misunderstood you. Please do not feel obligated to offer more than you intended because of my mistake. I... should probably go," she said in a monotone. Hawke noticed with a morbid fascination that her words had made a hole in her chest right where her lungs should be.
"No, please don't go, Hawke," Sebastian's voice came from right behind her shoulder, and Adara jumped to find him suddenly so close. She had not heard him move. He took her hand and held it firmly though she tried to pull away. He turned her hand palm up and absently traced the caluses with one fingertip.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Hawke. It was unmanly of me to force you to explain yourself thus," he said, ignoring Hawke snort of derision.
"I'm hardly some wilting..."
"Please, hear me out, Hawke," Sebastian cut in. "This is not the decision of a moment. How many years have I struggled with this question? Maybe it is time to come to a final decision. I have been thinking about what you have said, and you may be right. There is no certainty, but your arguments are sound. You know that I have detested the idea of abandoning the Chantry and miring myself in the politics of Starkhaven. I still despise the very thought. But if you were the prize for reclaiming my family's..."
"I'm hardly a prize."
Sebastian glanced up from Adara's hand long enough to silence her with the intensity of his eyes. The look made Hawke find her lungs: they were apparently trying to lodge in her throat.
"I just can't believe that the Maker would reward me for abandoning my vows to Him."
"Perhaps He's trying to bribe you to do the right thing," Hawke said with a shaky attempt at a smile.
Sebastian's returned a thoughtful half-smile. "Did the Maker tell you so Himself?" he teased.
"Maybe He did!" Hawke joked back, and was surprised when a feeling of rightness filled her. "I think He did," she finished lamely.
"In that case," smiled Sebastian, dropping to one knee while retaining her hand.
"No! Sebastian, what are you doing?" Hawke tried to pull him back to his feet, her words somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
"Please let me do this properly, Hawke," and he waited patiently until Adara's protests subsided. She stood blushing and biting her lip anxiously.
"Adara Hawke, if the Maker returns me to my seat in Starkhaven..."
"When He returns you."
"When He returns me to my seat in Starkhaven," he corrected himself, "will you consent to becoming my bride?"
"But..."
"But what?"
"But do you love me?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Sebastian was genuinely shocked.
"If it were obvious I wouldn't ask. You have never once said that you loved me. It's rather important."
"Adara Hawke, I love you more than my life. Now will you agree to marry me?"
"Yes, I will," and the next thing she knew, Hawke was being whirled around in an enthusiastic hug.
"I am so blessed. How is it that you make me so happy?" he wondered aloud, finally putting her down.
"Here, I'll show you how," smirked Adara, pulling his head down and pressing a single, sweet kiss on his lips.
"Dearest, you know I cannot promise you anything until we are married," he warned.
"Don't worry, love. I understand," she reassured him. Then a sudden thought caught her. "But perhaps there is something I can promise." She grabbed his hand and dragged him from the room, snagging his bow on the way. "I think I need my gauntlets back."
"Are you going to hit me now?"
"Probably not," she grinned, "But we'll see."
It took them a few minutes to track down the Grand Cleric, who was working with some novices in an anteroom. A sudden shadow clouded Sebastian's features.
"Your Grace, I... we... I mean..."
But Hawke had unsheathed her sword and was kneeling before the Grand Cleric. Solemnly, she reversed it, and, holding it by the blade, presented the hilt to Elthina.
"Your Grace," she said simply, "I offer my sword and my life to the service of the Chantry. I swear to defend and to serve the Maker and his holy bride, Andraste, in all that I do. Will you accept my vow?"
Elthina looked carefully from Hawke's earnest face to the look of awed understanding that was dawning in Sebastian's. She placed her hand on the hilt of Hawke's sword.
"I, Elthina, Grand Cleric of the Chantry, accept your vow. May you serve the Maker faithfully... where ever He may send you." She smiled and placed a hand on Hawke's head, raising her other over Sebastian.
"May the Maker bless you, children. You have done well."