Chapter Two:

Pleasantries

Home was as filthy as it had been the day they'd left, but Mads had gotten used to it. Garret went out to see Varric at The Hanged Man ("Don't even think about following me. You'll catch something."), Carver brooded by the fire and Mads spoke softly to their mother, recounting the days events.

"I don't know how I feel about this expedition..." Leandra said.

"Don't worry about it so much. If it puts food on the table, then..."

"It just doesn't sound safe."

"I know." Mads smiled. "But we're hardly safe as we are now. High risk, high reward."

Her mother didn't meet her gaze. She'd had trouble doing so since Beth died. They'd had the same heart shaped face, straight nose and wide grey eyes. Mads was perhaps what Bethany would have been like if she wasn't born a mage. She carried her older sister's aura of playful innocence, without the underlying fear and heavy heart.

Leandra looked tired. She muttered something about Gamlen going on about Kaz, Garret's mabari, all day long. Mads put her to bed. Gamlen had already fallen asleep in his chair, drunk, but Carver showed no signs of sleep.

They sat in familial silence, only speaking once or twice about letter's Garret had gotten. Varric was right. This city was bleeding for quality paid help. Maybe it would be different now that they didn't have that elf hanging over them, taking most of the profit they made. She wondered if Garret would go back to her. She hoped not. They could manage on their own now, with Varric's contacts.

Time was ticking on. She fixed her gaze on Carver.

"You should go to bed." She said, idly. She had a book in her lap – an excuse to stay up. He didn't.

"Pfft, surely I'm the one who should be telling you that, little sister."

"I'm not so little anymore." She grinned.

"You're right about that." He sighed, and sat down next to her. "Looking at you makes me feel old."

"Carver, there's barely a year between us."

"So old. Decrepit. Maybe I'll die of old age before the templar's persecute us for harboring him."

She laughed despite herself. "I wish you wouldn't keep saying things like that. It hurts his feelings."

"His feelings? There is one thing I've never known our brother to have and it's those."

"Just because he makes light all the time doesn't mean he's got no feelings."

"Maker, you've always been such a bleeding heart."

"And you've always been an ass." She batted him lightly on the arm. "You act like you don't care about him, but you'd never stay up this late waiting for me to come home."

Carver's face reddened. Caught.

"You're different." He said, not bothering to deny. "There isn't an order of people systematically hunting you down. Besides, I wouldn't have to stay up and wait because we'd come out to find you and drag you home."

"Ah, yes, my very own templars."

"Seriously, though. Just because I think mages belong in the Circle doesn't mean I want my own brother there."

It was hypocritical, Mads knew, but sweet as well.

"Don't tell him I said any of this."

"Course not." She would. She told Garret almost everything. She derived great pleasure from the gruff smiles he gave her when she revealed Carver secretly, at the end of the day, really did care about him. "Go to bed. I'm reading anyway. I'll wake you up when he comes home."

"Don't bother waking me. I'll know. He'll be drunk and want to tell me all about his new best friend."

"They were getting along, weren't they?"

"A little too well."

He got up and disappeared into the back room. She heard him moving around, the thunk of his sword hitting the ground, and then silence except for Gamlen's drunken snoring. Once she'd dropped a bottle and it had smashed on the floor and he still hadn't woken up.

When she was sure everyone was asleep, she got up and blew out the candle she read by. She crept across the room and grabbed her belt, fixing it to her waste. Her hands brushed the tops of her daggers like usual, just to reassure her, to make sure they were still there. She wound her hair up into a loose bun. Her hair was deep, rich chocolate brown, inherited from her mother, who often touched it, gushed over it, and expressed how badly she wished her hair were like that again, instead of white.

"But I don't know where those curls come from." She'd said one day, while brushing it. She began to list distant relatives that might've had naturally curly hair, but she couldn't be sure they weren't liars.

Mads pulled on her boots, great long brown things that ended just above her knee. She'd had to take them off to make it look like she was settled in for the night before Garret left.

Lastly, she put on a cloak, fastening the little sword clip under her chin, and lifted the hood to cast a shadow over her face. She hated wearing cloaks, but it was either this or put up with leery comments from the men of Kirkwall.

She left the hovel in a routine manner, brushing off her leggings. As though she wasn't sneaking out. As though she was doing something perfectly legitimate. Something that wouldn't make Garret feel guilty and furious, make Carver scold her and her mother hit her over the head with a rolled up scroll.

Aveline had jobs for them. Typical stabbing and arresting work. Good work, Mads could begrudgingly admit, no matter how tedious she found skulking around the shore for criminal hideouts.

She'd been glad to see Aveline too. They had bonded over sharing a famous namesake. She didn't get out much, too busy guarding. Mads knew Garret still saw her regularly. It was hard not to grow attached to the orange haired soldier after what they'd all been through together. She had done her part in helping them escape the Darkspawn, by far the fiercest warrior Mads had ever seen. Though she couldn't say she'd had the pleasure of seeing many.

The cool night air made her feel alive, a steady beat of excitement trickling through her as she made her way through Lowtown towards the docks.

If Aveline caught her now... or one of the other guards. She gulped. There were only so many favors the swordswoman could do for them before she ran out of pull with the Guard.

As she approached the docks, the air turned from pleasantly cool to chilly. A small wind picked up. She pulled her clock tighter around her. The smells got worse as well, mixed with the stench of seaweed. Mads liked the sound of the ocean, and it was always pretty, sparkling in the moonlight, but she wasn't one for unpleasant smells.

She tucked herself away in an ally and waited.

There were two kinds of templar. The kind ones, who do what they deem necessary with empathy and respect. And the cruel ones, who take advantage of their position. Mads always thought she could tell which was which by the way they walked, the air about them.

Eren was the cruel kind. She watched him now, with two of his companions, approach their meeting place and fold his arms, talking loudly to them. He threw his head back and laughed, not a single sense of subtlety or sensitivity to the nature of their meeting. She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the shadows.

One of his friends clapped him on the arm and pointed at her. She took down her hood and smiled weakly.

"Ser Eren." She said, "I'd say it's nice to see you, but then you'd call me a liar."

His friends sneered, while he laughed at her.

"Lady Madrigal." He said. He rested a hand on his sword, his stance was threatening despite calling her a lady. She wasn't impressed. "Let's not bother with pleasantries. The coin?"

She threw a pouch to him. 10 sovereigns in all. She'd had to save up her share of months of work. It was ridiculous. 10 sovereigns was nothing to little rich boys like Eren. She was sure this display was simply him flexing his power muscles, showing off to his friends, showing that it didn't matter if he came from wealth, he could acquire it as well.

He tipped it up side down into a gloved hand and began to count. She didn't like the looks one of his friends was giving her, so she huffed, and looked out at the ocean while Eren counted, glad she was mostly concealed in her cloak.

"Excellent." He said finally. She wondered how on earth he even passed his training. Wasn't it supposed to be rigorous? "And that'll be 15 next time."

Her jaw dropped.

"15! I barely scraped together 10." Her fists balled at her side, and with great effort she resisted drawing her daggers.

"Hmm," He replied fingering the little string holding the pouch closed. "That's not really my problem, is it?"

"You-" She bit her tongue, struggling to keep her temper in check. She was usually the picture of composure, but when it came to people abusing their power...

"Me?" He laughed. "This is how it works, Serah. How it's worked since the start. I tell you what I want, and you give it to me, or else your brother gets an unpleasant house call in the morning."

"You don't understand. I can't get that much on my own. Not without starving myself, or not contributing to the family funds. I-"

"Well, maybe we could cut a deal. My friend here, Hank, seems to have taken a liking to you... Maker knows why. How about you go entertain him a little while, and then we'll renegotiate the price."

"I'd rather drown." She spat, while Hank begun to take off his gloves. Her response was disgustingly similar to the one she'd responded with earlier that morning when her brothers were teasing her, and it just made her hate him more.

"Really? You'd rather your brother with a heart of gold got taken away? Don't forget that we know what he is."

She could see it. Eren wouldn't care. He wouldn't give a second thought to dobbing her entire family in. Then Garret would be taken, for sure, and Carver and her would be investigated, not to mention their Mother. She wouldn't be able to handle losing another child. Not her oldest.

"I could turn you in." She said, but she knew it was hopeless, they'd had this conversation before. He didn't even bother answering her. What if she reported him to Meredith? What would she care for the word of a Ferelden refugee who'd spent a year working with smugglers? But maybe... "I could go to the Grand Cleric."

Eren raised an eyebrow, but the other two laughed. Hank took a threatening step forward, but Eren raised an arm to stop him. "That's a new one." He said. "Really grasping at straws, aren't you? Listen, and listen really well, Serah."

He lashed forward suddenly, a thick hand curling around her forearm and pulling her to him. If he hadn't been a templar, she would've danced away from him in an instant, leaving him with nothing but a slit wrist, but she couldn't. Not with those other two here. Not without risking Garret.

"The Grand Cleric is an old, blithering woman. As incompetent as she is a fool. Even if you went to her and she believed you, and for all I care, she might. Any word she said would hold no weight with the Knight-Commander. Even the Viscount wouldn't give a shit."

"Grand Cleric Elthina appointed her Knight-Commander in the first place, didn't she?" Mads hissed back.

"Maker, listen to this woman talk. Threatening us, like you've got an ounce of power over us at all, girl. Be honest with yourself. There is no doubt in either of our minds, that the Grand Cleric wouldn't believe you. Especially without proof."

"How about a witness?" An arrow flew through the night, and landed in the ground between Eren's feet. He swore, shocked, and Mads took the opportunity to wretch her arm from his hand swing around his side, boot colliding with his rib cage.

From there, more arrows fired, and after the third one didn't hit she was sure their shooter was missing on purpose. She halted mid swing of her dagger and instead leaped away from them, breathing heavily from the surprise. No good could come from hurting them now.

"You bloody bitch! I told you not to bring anyone!" Eren rounded on her but before he could even get close, yet another arrow whizzed between them. This time, eyes followed where it had come from to see Sebastian Vael, standing in all his shining glory with his bow drawn and brow creased, furious.

"He's not with me." She said, clutching her twin daggers tightly.

"Hold your ground!" He snarled, marching forward and stopping between Mads and him. "Have you no shame? Taking advantage of an innocent girl-"

"Innocent! Bah!" Eren's sword was drawn now, and Mads' body was coiled like a spring, tension making her muscles ache. She was one part ashamed at being rescued like this, and two parts dazzled by her rescuer. He'd saved her like a hero from one of her stories. "Have you seen this girl? She's hardly innocent, out at this hour."

"I've seen enough to know who here is at fault." Sebastian said. He spoke well, she thought, all that time being brought up in a palace. "Grand Cleric Elthina will hear of this."

"No!" Mads said suddenly, darting forward between them. A sick smile crossed Eren's face. "Please, Ser. I was wrong when I was threatening them."

"You..." Sebastian slacked his bow slightly. His eyes met hers, brilliant blue and deep grey. The desperate expression on her face said it all. "You're only saying that because they threatened your family."

"And we've come full circle." Eren cut in. "This girl is harboring an apostate. We're merely exercising our rights, Ser. But it was gallant of you to try to defend this criminal without knowing the full story."

"I pay them." She said, ignoring Eren and trying to hold Sebastian's gaze. "I pay in coin them not to take my brother away. Please. This was a mistake. Eren, I'll pay the 15, no complaints."

There was a pause between them all, during which Sebastian's tense battle ready stance began to relax slightly, but a frown remained on his face. Behind her, she could hear the templar's chuckling at the turn of events. Who would've thought, now she was defending the templars.

"Very well. Let's see this doesn't happen again, shall we?" Eren said. Hank began to grumble, but Eren waved him off.

"Of course, Ser." Mads felt embarrassed. And defeated. She wondered what might have happened if Eren had cornered Carver instead of her those few months ago. All he'd had to say was a simple 'I know' and she'd been paying him off ever since.

Eren winked at Sebastian, and they left.

Silence followed, while Mads tried to put her thoughts together and Sebastian searched her face for some kind of explanation. She owed him one. He'd put himself on the line for her. But she couldn't think of a thing to say, and he spoke first.

"It seemed to me they wanted a little more than coin." His voice was even, quiet, and it was the first time she'd heard it without fury behind it. If it wasn't for the accusation behind it he might've sounded soft and gentle.

"Thank you." She said, firstly. "Really, I snapped at them, and I shouldn't have. They... made me so angry."

"They were trying to take advantage of you." He said this pointedly, like he thought her simple.

She shrank back from him. "I know."

More silence. He sighed. Her heart was beating furiously, fear clawing at her insides. Could she trust him? Would he tell? Telling her brothers was one thing, but if he informed the Grand Cleric and reported them, Meredith would arrest Garret regardless.

"My name's Sebastian. Sebastian Vael." He put his bow away, and held out his hand. She knew this already, of course, and wondered why he didn't introduce himself as a prince. Literally a prince in shining armor. Maker, Mads, you're in deep this time.

"Sebastian." She tried his name on her lips. The three syllables felt good. It wasn't good that they felt good. She was definitely attracted to this man. "Madrigal."

She didn't offer her last name. He might recognize it. She let him take her hand and shake it. It enveloped hers, and the leather from his fingerless gloves pinched her fingers.

And as she watched him she thought about what she knew of him – that he was a prince with a strong sense for right and wrong, who liked swooping in to rescue maidens from templars, he had family ties that had recently been brutally broken... she could use that, she thought, use his grief. She licked her lips and planned her manipulation. She would have to tread carefully.

"I'm not usually this vulnerable." She said. "I guess family brings that out in people."

"I suppose..." He said. "Listen, I... I'm not exactly sure of the full story, I know you've got someone you're trying to protect and-"

"A mage." She said, wanting to be as honest with him as possible before extorting his better judgment. "He was telling the truth. I'm trying to protect a mage. Ser Eren found out and approached me. He said we could make a deal."

"All the same, do you not think your mage would be better off in the circle?" Sebastian said after a heavy pause. He suddenly looked a lot less attractive to her.

"I know." She said dramatically, woefully, eyes going wide and fluttery. "It's just... we're family."

He seemed to struggle with this, so she carried on. If he wanted a damsel, she would sure as hell give him one.

"He's all I've got. If he got taken away, I don't know what I'd do."

"I understand this must be hard for you." He said kindly, "But surely there's some trade you can take up. We can't let those templars walk freely."

Mads had had enough practice through out her childhood of dodging templars and pretending to be a lady for her Mother to know how to lie competently. Her whole family was full of liars, their father made sure of it. More than once she'd spun a smooth tale to get Bethany out of trouble, who was sometimes too gripped by fear of being sent away to even speak. Lying came naturally to her, but acting, acting was another creature altogether and she still considered herself to be very much in training.

This was why, when her thoughts were spinning and she was trying to grasp at something, anything to keep the Starkhaven prince from turning her, the templars, and by relation, her brother in, she was so proud when tears began to fall freely from her eyes.

On some level she was sure that she was long over due a good cry, and maybe she didn't actually need to reach that far to bring fresh tears. The stress, the blackmail, her Father, Bethany, all piled up within her and she let them flow outwards.

Sebastian's face fell, much like all men's did when faced with a crying person, and she cupped her own cheek in dismay.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She wept. "I don't mean to... it's just I..."

He struggled to find something to say, even reaching up his hand to comfort her and then thinking better and pulling it away.

"You have to understand, he's so strong. He wouldn't fall to a demon." She said, which was true. "He t-t-trained in the Circle in Ferelden." This wasn't the slightest bit true. "Please, I don't have anyone else." Kind of, sort of, half true.

Then she thought of it, the last phrase to really drive it home to the prince.

"Wouldn't you do anything to protect your family?" She said this while sniffling, rubbing her eyes, but she still saw the flicker of sorrow cross the prince's face. She felt a pang of guilt, which she quickly tried to rationalize away. It's either this or Garret's freedom.

"Yes. I would." He said quietly. "I'm sorry, I've caused you pain."

"No, no, Serah, you saved me from them, you really did. I'm going to tell him. I'll tell him about the deal I've made and we'll figure something out, I promise you." Everything was a lie except for perhaps the first. "I feel silly for crying."

He was silent for a long while, gazing down at her. Perhaps he didn't know what to say. Maker, he was tall. She wiped her tears away and began to dry her eyes, sending him a weak smile. She began to tell him about how desperately she needed to get home, and how grateful she was towards him.

He nodded. "Your business... this business, is your own." He said finally. "Your secret is safe with me."

"I'm eternally grateful to you, Sebastian."

"I don't know if it helps but... the Chantry is always looking for brothers and sisters of Faith."

"I'll... keep that in mind."

There was a slight pause again. He looked like he didn't want to leave her alone, not with what had just happened, but she needed to get away from him. She said thank you one more time, and before he could protest, darted off into the night.

Sebastian was late back to his room. Very late. The sisters would talk. He brooded slightly as he shed his armor. That girl, Madrigal.

He had recognized her from earlier that day.

She had seen him outside the Chantry, thought he might be planning to hurt the Grand Cleric, he could make her out now clear in his minds eye. He had passed her, fury fueling him, and seen her hand brush across the hilt of her dagger.

When he had calmed down later he had spared her a fleeting thought of admiration. A girl as young as she willing to leap to Elthina's defense – if only it hadn't been him inspiring that fight in her.

He had been rude to the Grand Cleric. And rash. Maker forgive him, he would need to apologize.

And then...

Madrigal had seemed an entirely different person when he saw her at the docks. He had been searching in vain for some of the Flint Mercenaries. It was reckless for him to go alone, he knew that. But he could hardly sit idle. And when he saw her, so small and vulnerable compared to the heavily armored templars he'd felt furious, unable to think of anything else but that, despite being a stranger, this girl had a family just like he did... had.

Still something was off about her story, he knew that much, but he couldn't pin point it. Could he peg the differences on her fear for her mage family member? Or was there something more? He had watched the scene from the shadows, and she had started off with more fire and outrage than hesitance and weakness.

In the pit of his stomach he knew she could have folled him. He was smart enough to see it. But for now, Maker permit, there wasn't anything else he could do. Maybe he would wander by there again every other night to make sure she had kept her promise.

He added her to his list of people to pray for. His family, Grand Cleric Elthina, some less fortunate souls he'd met while living in the Chantry, a few friends he hadn't seen in years, Starkhaven, and now, Madrigal.

AN: Let me know what you think! I won't bother uploading the rest if no one is interested. :)