Kirkwall. The city's skyline loomed overhead, the famous chains casting an oppressive aura to those entering the gates.

Why did he have to be here again? Oh, that's right. No one needs a third heir for a throne, so his parents had sent him away to the Chantry. He was the trouble child. He scowled as the salty air pushed his long hair into his eyes. He already missed Starkhaven. He especially missed the women. He grinned a little at the memory of one particular redhead.

He scanned the people on the ship around him, not that he could really see around the "camouflaged" guards encircling him. There was a family of elves not far from where he was, the little girl standing out front holding on to a blanket with rough embroidery spelling out something in Elvish. He squinted to try to read what it said, but the wind kept moving the blanket, and when the girl noticed him staring, she bunched up the blanket and turned into what he assumed was her father. At least she had a father who cared.

He looked up at the chains again. Fun place. He rolled his eyes at the thought of his exile.

As the ship pulled into the port and stopped, his guards began to gather his things, rather conspicuously. More oppressive symbols lined the port. Tied up slaves in statue form were everywhere. Yup. Fun place, indeed.

Before he realized they were moving, he found himself being dragged up the steps toward the Chantry. An elderly woman stood in front of the door.

"I am Grand Cleric Elthina. Am I to assume that the young man crammed into the middle of this group is our young Prince? Sebastian?" she asked with a kind, sympathetic smile on her face, one that spread to her soft grey eyes.

He couldn't help but smile a little. She reminded him of his grandmother, kind and gentle, with the smallest spark of sass. He stepped forward and gave a small bow.

"Aye, Grand Cleric. I am Sebastian Amadeus Vael, third contender for the throne of Starkhaven, and now exiled Prince," he said a little bitterly.

"A bitter heart will never allow healing to begin, young man," she said with caution in her voice, but a smirk betraying her true intent behind those words.

Suddenly, Kirkwall seemed a bit more lively. But only a bit.

"Come. I'll show you to your quarters," Elthina said. Sebastian's guard made a move to follow Elthina and Sebastian inside. "Alone. Leave his things under the stairwell in the room on the left."

They bowed. Whether it was out of respect, or out of duty to the crown, Sebastian couldn't tell. Either way, he knew that he liked the way Elthina handled situations. He would have to watch her and learn from that.

She showed him to a minimally appointed room and waved him inside.

"This will be your room for as long as you'll have it. Your family may have sent you to us, but I will not hold you here once you are an adult."

He stepped inside and looked around. It was a sizeable room for only one inhabitant, with a large four-poster bed, large enough for three people to lie side by side. The vanity rested to the left of the bed, a simple stained oak armoire set next to it.

"You'll find that you already have service robes in the armoire, tailored to you. Your parents sent word ahead with your measurements."

Measurements? That's right. His grandfather had him fitted for armor before he left.

"Are you sure it wasn't my grandfather who sent word ahead?" he asked bitterly.

"It wouldn't have been your grandfather, Sebastian. I know him personally, and all he ever wanted for you is for you to lead the archers of Starkhaven. So, yes, I'm certain."

He opened his mouth to give a spiteful response, but then immediately closed it, thinking better of it. He went back to inspecting the room. On the right side of the bed was a rug upon which lay a large, oval metal bowl filled with three thick red candles and a copy of the Chant of Light. Behind it was a statuette of Andraste and above that hung the only wall art in the room, a very large Chantry sunburst.

He scoffed at the lack of . . . well, anything that he was used to. Where was the separate restroom, the luxurious bath? There wasn't even a chair to put anything on, just a bed and a vanity. Where would he write letters? Ugh.

"Dinner is in an hour, young man. Clean up and say your prayers. If you find you have more time, you may begin to bring your things into your room," Elthina said. "But, I fear I must inform you, no symbols of extravagance may be kept."

Sebastian thought of the crown he had packed and cringed. He'd have to get rid of that if he wanted free lodgings. And free food.

"And what of mementos of my family?" he challenged her.

"No symbols of extravagance. Pictures and amulets, depending on the quality may be kept. Letters. Perhaps that dagger I see you've hidden in your boot?" she smirked at him.

He was shocked. He had hidden a dagger in his right boot's sole, laying flat against his foot, but even his guards hadn't noticed. He became instantly suspicious of her knowledge of such things.

"Ah, I ran with a crowd of ruffians in my younger days, lad," she chuckled. "I'm certain that I know all your tricks and more. Ah, and your next door neighbor has been instructed to guide you to your meals for the next week, or until you remember the layout of this Chantry by heart."

With that she turned and left, leaving a dumbfounded Sebastian in her wake.