Isabela laughed, the confident booming sound echoing across the dining hall. Even the bravest of the court's ladies hadn't lasted more than an hour against her and she had been the subject of many rude comments and envious looks at her bared thighs and offered breasts. His Lords had retired hours after, only when their attempts to win Isabela's favor had obviously failed.
".. And truly I've never seen Hawke look so out of place, standing there, ready for battle, surrounded by a bunch of prattling nobles trying to throw her a surprise party. If you ask me, that's what they get, for sending her an unsigned note saying the situation was 'dire'". She threw back her head and finished off her wine, throwing the metal cup across the hall to land at one of the servant's feet.
"Isabela…"
"What, now he doesn't have to come all the way over here to get it." She leaned back in her chair, bringing the front two legs up and propped her boots on the dining table. "So, Sebastian…"
A nervous rustling of feet from the servants behind him brought his attention away from her boots, "I do have a title now, Captain."
Her throaty laugh bounced across the room again, "I never called you Brother Sebastian, why would I trip over 'Your Highness'?"
Sebastian sighed, the evening had worn on him, as all social events tended to. Anything that wasn't directly involved with finding Anders was a waste of time.
"So, anyhow, Sebastian," Isabela grinned, drawing his name out, "You've spent the entire evening pointedly not asking about Hawke."
Hawke. Her name alone seemed to carry power. The servants made soft movements behind him, suddenly restless hands hurrying to clear the table and brush imaginary dust from the furniture. Sebastian leaned forward to argue and found no words, and settle for pacing the room instead, his path taking him behind the reclined pirate. "Hawke?"
"You know, Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, slayer of Mage and Templar alike, Deep Roads Explorer, Wanted by the Chantry, Broody Elf Lover, Apostate…" Isabela paused, strictly for emphasis, "Renegade Mage Releaser." Her boots thunked against the ground and she was suddenly on her feet, facing him. "That Hawke."
"Ah. Hawke." The name cut off viciously on his tongue and he turned from Isabela, hiding the anger on his face under the façade of looking out into the courtyard. "What Lady Hawke does or does not do is no longer my concern."
"Did you know they tried to keep her as Viscountess? She warned them that it was a temporary agreement. She put Donnic in charge since Aveline turned it down."
Sebastian could hear her steps behind him, deliberately bringing her closer, watching him. The prince knew that the seemingly careless woman missed nothing, "She's no longer acting as Viscount?" That was news. He hadn't heard anything from Kirkwall from her hand other than generic official reports. The appointment of Knight Commander Cullen, the school for magi opening, a temporary structure, not required, free for all, run by the few survivors of the Tower ordeal that hadn't fled to join the forces of… It. the reminders of innocent lives that resided in Kirkwall; the assurances that the city itself was stable. He had sent demands that the fugitive mage be released into his custody but no response had ever come.
"She's not even IN the city Sebastian, how could she run it?" Isabela had circled around him and now stood blocking his view. She smirked in light of the grimace on his face, "I can hear your teeth grinding."
"Where did she go?" Sebastian tried to level his voice into one of casual inquiry, but from the gleam in Isabela's eyes he had failed.
"Oh, you know those heroic types, always wandering off to go save someone," Isabela's eyes caught his and he pointedly turned his gaze to her chest to avoid the exchange.
"Did you say something?" Sebastian forced his voice low, his gaze following.
"Naughty, naughty, Sebastian. Trying to play my game."
"What is the Champion up to Isabela?" He caught a lock of her dark hair in his fingertips, still calloused from constant bow use.
"Why don't you just ask, 'Did she run off to join Anders?', it would save all sorts of time." Isabela jumped, a dagger he hadn't seen appearing in her hand as Sebastian's fist slammed into the wall beside her. The wood paneling buckled under the force and his knuckles were already smarting. The servants made hasty exits out of the room and he focused on calming himself. He slapped the dagger out of her surprised grasp and slammed her wrist against the wall for emphasis.
"Why do you taunt me with this? If you know where that abominationis you'd better tell me or Maker help me Isabela, I'll…."
"You'll do what, exactly?" The smooth voice stopped him faster than the voice of Andraste would have. He could have picked that voice out of a crowd of thousands or followed it blindly through the darkest of voids. He had trusted that voice, admired it, used it as an anchor as he fought against everything that he didn't understand and in his one moment of clarity, of absolute certainty, it had turned from the path of the righteous.
"Bollocks, I didn't even get to the point where I confront him on his secret longings for you," Isabela twisted out of his grip easily and sauntered away. Sebastian fought the desire to follow Isabela's trail, knowing it would lead to Hawke. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to talk to her.
"He looked a little uneasy," her voice stroked the room like a finger on a wineglass. "And I can't maintain that shield forever."
"Nonsense, I have it on the very best authority that you can raise whole cities to float in the sky while slaying an entire legion of dragons!"
"Isabela…"
"Fine, fine, I'll go keep Fenris company while you have a little chat with your prince."
"I am most certainly not her prince!" Sebastian turned to confront her but as his gaze swept the room his eyes locked immediately on Hawke. The sound of the door clicking close echoed into the silence.
She looked nearly the same. He'd expected something else. Some sign that years had passed, some show of the person she really was. Not the hero he'd always thought but, the mage, the apostate.
Hawke's white hair was a little longer, the locks brushing just past her shoulders. Her face bore the same calm, detached amusement he remembered, and small lines had begun to form at the corners of her bright turquoise eyes. Her attire was back to her adventurer's gear; practical, powerful, the lines and curves of runes of power barely registering on the edges of his vision. The right arm still encased in metal, ready to act as a shield in close combat. She carried the easy stance of well balanced fighter on her armored boots and…
And she bore no staff. The focus of her power was absent. Her hands rested uneasily at her sides, more obvious for their emptiness.
Sebastian was across the room in an instant, not even knowing what force had gotten him there. He felt her form give under the rush, taking the blow, rolling his weight off of her neck but he caught at her wrists as power started to grow in her hands and rolled an elbow into her stomach, the grunt of her released breath bringing a fierce joy to him. His elbow continued up to her face, dazing her, but her knee came up reflexively and caught him in the chest, the metal digging through his formal attire and bruising him.
He released her and they separated, and she caught the blood falling from her nose with the back of a hand.
"First blood is yours, Prince." Hawke didn't even bother to hide it, a brief white glow lit the room and the blood stopped. "How much more do you want?"
"How dare you come here! You.. You're a traitor! And an apostate!"
"You forgot thief and killer." Hawke absently wiped the blood from her hand onto the darkness of leggings.
"Where is he?" Sebastian paced furiously a strict ten paces from her; resisting the urge to move in again. Her weight had shifted and she was ready for him now.
"I didn't come here to talk about that."
"There is nothing else to talk about! You are harboring a murderer! A traitor against the Maker himself! You will give him to me Hawke!"
"Sebastian…" Hawke's voice was absent of anger, she sounded tired. Her eyes finally locked with his and his pacing stopped. He rounded on her, closing the distance once again but restraining himself from coming into contact with her.
"I will see you tranquil for what you've done! You will tell me everything Hawke, Maker help me, You will tell me where HE is!"
Her eyes lit up with her unholy power and Sebastian knew he'd finally pushed past her calm. The curtains swirled restlessly in the room and the tall glass vases filled with flowers tinkled in an alarming song. The very stone began to groan under the stress of her anger and then, as suddenly as it had started, the light bled from her eyes and her hands relaxed at her sides.
"I wouldn't tell you, even if I knew." She closed her eyes and turned her gaze to the moon outside. "And we both know I'll be dead before I'm made tranquil."
"Yet you come here, unannounced, unarmed. You are not strong enough to beat me without your staff. I could end this here, mage." The word snarled off his tongue.
She returned her unerring turquoise gaze back to him, "You don't have your bow, Sebastian." Hawke tilted her head, measuring him, and took a slow step towards him. "And besides, I didn't come here to fight with you."
"Then you should not have come." He bit the words off, furious that he couldn't just snap her neck and be done with her.
"Something has come up. Something that is more dangerous than the Qunari, Orsino, and Meredith combined." Her gaze bore into him, and he felt that gaze wrap around his soul and fill him with the hope to make a better world and for a moment he was back in Kirkwall, years ago, when he was convinced that there was a better way. Sebastian snapped viciously back from it, snarling at her and turned away.
The prince stalked to the far end of the room, heard her steps behind him, resolute now, determined that he would hear her out. His hand wrapped around the handle to yank the door open and hers landed lightly on top of it.
"Sebastian, please, listen to me first and if-"
"You should not have come here, Hawke." And he smashed the back of his fist into her head, the careful blow felling her instantly. He caught her weight before she hit the floor and gently moved the hair off of her face. "I will have my vengeance."