"That's it, I quit. Find someone else to run this trainwreck you insist on calling a play! I've had it with the lot of you!"

Cullen sunk down in his chair, running his hand over his face as Duncan stormed out of the theatre. A director walking out on his play? This was not good. This was horrible.

And it was all Garrett Hawke's fault.

He had been fighting with the crew all morning - all week for that matter. Half the crew was threatening to walk from the project if Garrett didn't stop walking around like he owned the place, ordering them about. And they very well could leave. It wasn't like they were being paid much. None of the crew were. And the actors - the actors were all volunteers. They all had their own jobs, the play a fun hobby to occupy their evenings.

Well, it had used to be fun. Cullen was thankful that he was at least getting some sort of compensation for this.

He cast a glance towards Alistair, hoping that he'd be able to break the tenuous silence that had settled over everyone with a joke, but instead he found his friend frowning, throat clenching, and eyes red. Duncan had been like a father to Alistair, and to see him give up… well Cullen would find no help from him. At least not now. Sighing, he stood from his seat, moving down to the stage where everyone else had gathered.

"So what happens now?" Emmalee Trevelyan, the pretty lead actress who Cullen had been shyly avoiding over the past few weeks, spoke up.

A chorus of 'is it cancelled?' and 'are we done?' came from the gathered crowd of cast and crew. And well, Cullen didn't have a good answer. It should be Alistair making the decision, he was the assistant director after all. But he wasn't making the decision. And without Aveline here as the administrative head, the responsibility fell on Cullen's stage managing shoulders alone.

"If we can find a new director, this doesn't have to be over. Anyone?"

He glanced back at Alistair, knowing his friend would not want to completely lead himself, but hoping that he would anyways. It was the simplest solution. Cullen could even help him.

When no one spoke up, he sighed. "Anyone at all?"

He cringed when he heard Garrett's voice, hoping he wasn't volunteering. "Look I can fix this if no one wants the job. My cousin has directed before. She could help us."

"Your cousin?"

"Ever heard of Mira Amell?" He wiggled his eyebrows at Cullen, knowing full well that he had. "She did that big play in Denerim last year. Denerim Newsjokingly called her the Hero of Ferelden - it was that good."

Cullen could feel the blood draining from his face. He hadn't realized the Hawkes were related to the Amells. Mira Amell. He hadn't seen her in years, not since…

Alistair broke his thoughts as he sat forward in his seat, apparently happy that he wasn't been forced into anything. "And how in the Void do we convince her to direct for our community theatre? We can't afford the Hero of Ferelden."

Hawke waved a hand to dismiss him, pulling out his cellphone. "I've got this."

Mira's hand snuck out of her blankets when her phone began to ring. For Maker's sake, who would be calling her? She had an early meeting tomorrow with a new up-and-coming playwright and she needed to sleep if she was going to be coherent at all for the ungodly hour it was scheduled at.

Wriggling out from under the body of Bruno, her mabari, she sat up in bed, groaning as Garrett Hawke's bearded face graced her phone's screen. She was tempted to ignore the call, but if she knew her cousin - and she did unfortunately - he'd keep calling until he got an answer.

Already regretting it, she tapped to accept the call. "What?"

"Who's your favourite cousin?"

"Not you, Garrett."

A scoff from the other end. "Well, that's just rude, Meer."

"What do you want?"

Bruno lifted his head from her feet at her tone, a concerned whine rippling through his muzzle. Her free hand moved to scratch around his ears, calming the old hound.

"Well, you see, I'm a part of this community theatre - the lead actor actually - just down the highway from Lothering… in Redcliffe."

"And?"

"The director just quit."

"And?" She knew what he would be asking soon, hoping that she was wrong. She had that meeting tomorrow morning. This new opportunity could change her life. Sure, her last play had had her name in all the papers, but this - this would be on a new level. "Garrett, I don't like where this is going."

Please don't ask. Please don't ask. Please don't ask.

"I need you to step in and direct… since it was sort of my fault he left and… I told everyone I'd fix it."

He asked.

Her eyes rolled, she was right about what he wanted. "Of course the director quitting would be because of you."

"Again Meer, rude."

"Look, Garrett, things are going really well for me here, I can't just pick up and -"

"At least just come down and check it out. There's no harm in that. Next rehearsal is tomorrow afternoon." A sigh when there was only silence from her. "I didn't want to do this Meer, but you owe me."

The drive was longer than she had expected to Redcliffe from Denerim, the traffic heavy on the Imperial Highway. She tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel to the music drifting from the radio, she'd be there soon.

Hopefully.

She thought about the meeting that should have been that morning, thankfully they'd agreed to post-pone it by a week. They were glad actually, the playwright wanting to do some final changes.

She'd promised Garrett that she would arrive to observe a rehearsal, nothing more. She didn't have to stay in Redcliffe. She could watch the one rehearsal, and then leave. And come back to her life that she was making for herself in Denerim.

And at this rate with the traffic this slow, she'd be more likely to miss the rehearsal than make it there. She was almost relieved at the thought - almost. If she missed it today, Garrett would make her come to the next one.

An hour and a half later, she was pulling into the parking lot. Maker, the theatre was huge! Garrett had certainly downplayed how nice it was. She wondered how much their community theatre group was paying to rent it out, he hadn't made it sound like they were the resident theatre company for the building. It was practically a cathedral, the stonework and intricate glass patterns beautiful as she stepped from her car and approached it. She'd never known that this was in Redcliffe, had only been in Ferelden for the past few months since she'd moved back to the Free Marches after well…

But her boarding school had only been across Lake Calenhad from here, how had she never known? Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, she found herself in a vestibule as equally beautiful as the exterior.

A small raven haired girl sat at the front desk, tattoos swirling over her face. She greeted Mira with a bright smile. "Oh, you must be Mira! They've been expecting you in the main theatre. Just through the door to my left." She hastily stood to take Mira's hand, shaking it before coming around the desk for a hug that Mira hadn't quite expected. "And oh silly me! I'm Merrill. If there's anything you need let me know."

Mira liked her already. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stay here and help after all.

She regretted that thought as soon as she walked into the back of the theatre.

"Fuck you, Garrett."

"Wouldn't you like that, asshole!"

A blonde man with his back to her had his hand pressed against Garrett's chest, holding him back as his other hand kept a completely paint covered man from taking a wing at her cousin.

This was a mess.

She came. She saw. She had decided 'no'. She could tell Garrett that.

She was not getting herself involved in whatever shit-show he had made, even if every fiber of her being was screaming for her to help. Curse her need to fix things.

She turned to leave, taking her chance that Garrett hadn't seen her yet before she changed her mind, colliding with something solid. Large hands gripped her upper arms, keeping her from losing her footing as she bounced back from the collision.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled against the fabric of what she now knew was a t-shirt.

She leaned back, the hands still holding her, reading what was written on the shirt: 'Cheese built this body'. The fabric was deliciously taut over his chest. Cheese certainly did a good job, a very good job. Her eyes widened a little,where had that thought come from?

His voice broke her from her increasingly inappropriate thoughts. "Quite a sight, aren't they? You must be Mira." A lopsided grin greeted her as she looked up… and up some more. Maker, he was tall. He released his hold on her and took a step back, extending one hand out to her. "Alistair. I'm the, uh, assistant director."

She took his hand, a smile tugging at the corner of her own lips without thought. He held on for a moment longer than she'd expected, a nervous laugh and pink tint spread to his cheeks when he realized he was still holding her hand after the shake had ended.

It was rather cute, actually.

He nervously scratched the back of his neck when he took his hand back. "Well, thank the Maker that you actually came."

She gestured back to the group still arguing behind her. "Is it, is it always like this?"

He laughed, cocking a brow at her. "You know, one good thing about the theatre is how it brings people together."