Turns out I didn't need the stick. Or the white towel. Aveline already had a white flag.

Ibany led me and Cole to the gate's edge, where a thin passage, well guarded and impossible to lead an army through, points the way to the Starkhaven camp.

This was the path taken by her unsuccessful envoys, up this twisting passage through the back alley of Hightown, tripping over rubble and debris. I peer down the alley, the morning sunlight dim, casting ominous shadows.

"The guard captain thinks it best I go with you," Ibany says, her big empty eyes fixed down on me. "I know the way, and the army knows me, and that I pose no threat."

I turn to look back up at the Tranquil, before finally turning to Cole, twisting the white flagpole in my fists. Leaving Bianca with Aveline has me antsy. Bad stuff happens when we're separated.

Cole is watching Ibany. I asked him about Tranquil last night, when we were planning.

"I met Tranquil when I was a ghost in the tower. I think I was more invisible to them, and their thoughts were invisible to me." His thin, pale hands folded blank sheets of paper over and over again. "They have no pain. No fear. No anger. There is nothing I can do for them, and they need nothing from me. They are free, but like a dandelion seed is free. They are adrift, floating free of purpose, but slave to wherever the wind takes them."

We'll unpack that another time. I reach out for Cole's hand and press the flag into it. "You remember the plan, Kid?"

Cole's eyes find on me, and his hands tighten around the pole. "The flag is my focus," he says.

I nod to him. The flag, while a sign to the Starkhaven army that we're non-combatants, will also serve Cole. A focus. Something to hold, and to keep him grounded, physical. I can't have him flitting from soldier to soldier, reciting his morbid poetry, startling the shit out of people. "That's right, Kid, you remember. Good job. And if the Prince won't see us?"

"I give you the flag and go in alone. Then I find the Prince, and I help him. He is hurting. All of this is because he's hurting." His thin fingers drum on the pole. "This is scaling up. Help one person, one important person... and many more stop hurting."

I give him a soft, genuine smile, and clap him on the arm. "Exactly, Kid. See? You're learning, just like I said you would."

It's a minor miracle we talked Aveline into letting us do this. For somewhat understandable reasons, she wasn't too keen on letting a spirit help. Or letting me sic a spirit on Sebastian.

Desperate times.

Ibany's eyes flit between the pair of us, but she keeps her opinions, if she has any, to herself. "If you are ready, Messires?" she says at last. She motions to the passage and climbs over a pair of boulders to lead the way.

Yeah, there's no way to lead troops through here. Or supplies. Or much of anything other than a small group, single file. I knew this alley. Good cut through for a cutpurse. There were businesses to the north, banks, tradesmen, guild headquarters. Slip through here to the south, hang a left, and there's a tunnel down to the Under City. Eventually the guards got wise and added this route to their patrols. But for a few years there, a much younger, much stupider dwarf made a small fortune running down this cramped alley.

On the far side of the alley there is a large, heavy door that I recognize. It used to be on the front of the bank. Ibany picks up a heavy rock and bangs out a cadence on the metal. It rings out like a bell. A voice calls out, "'Oo goes?"

"Ibany, with two other gentlemen who wish an audience with the prince."

"'Ow long is yer boss goin' to keep trying this, knife ears? The prince wants the city, or those 'oo helped the mage. Nuffin' else."

"Then run and tell him Varric Tethras wants a word with him!" I tell the bank door. "He'll know the name."

There's some murmuring on the other side of the door, then receding footfalls.

Cole stares up at the door. "I hope they let us in. I can't go in unless they let me in."

I blink over at him. "That... would have been nice to know beforehand."

The kid presses the bottom of the flag on the ground and leans on the pole. "They have dogs in there, can you hear them barking?"

"Mabari," Ibany says. "Where I used to live, before the Circle, I helped take care of the mabari."

Cole looks back at her, his eyes widening a little, "I've only seen bad mabari, kept by bad people."

"Mabari are very smart." Ibany rocks on her heels and looks back at the kid with a blank expression. "If they have bad owners, they will be bad dogs. If they have good owners, they will be good dogs."

Cole opens his mouth, looking the way he does when he's about to pull something painful out of someone's head. But nothing comes out, and he just exhales, looking a bit lost. Finally he asks, "Would I raise a good mabari?"

"I think so," Ibany says in her low, even voice, and pivots on her heel to face the door again. The kid looks pleased.

This is some of the weirdest flirting I think I've ever seen.

Finally, the door opens. A soldier, decked in Starkhaven colors, stands at the opening with a sword and shield. "The prince said to leave Bianca behind." The sword motions at Ibany, "Izzat her?"

"No, Bianca isn't here. Choir b-... his highness has agreed to see us, then?"

"'E 'as. Follow me. No weapons." The soldier eyeballs the flag, and Cole clutches it a bit tighter.

"Kid takes his flag bearing duty seriously," I say with a smile.

"Aye, leave that, then."

Cole looks back at me, eyes wide. "Varric said... I have to carry it. It's my focus."

The soldier takes a step back and lifts the sword a bit higher, "Wot, like one a dem mage staffs?"

"No, no, no!" I say, laughing. "I told him he had to focus on his flag bearing duty, that's all. Cole." I look at him, my smile tight. "Do as the gentleman says. Leave it right here by the door." He'll just have to focus on staying solid and human on his own. I'm not sure that'll work. I wasn't certain the flag would work, either, but I got the idea from a story about a bronto and a feather.

Cole puts the flag down, his movements slow and deliberate under the watchful gaze of the armed soldier. Once his hand is empty, Ibany steps closer and reaches out to take it in hers. The kid relaxes, and I exhale.

Smart Tranquil.

The soldier eyes the both of them warily, then shakes his head. "Nah, the both of them can stay 'ere. 'Is 'ighness only wanted to see you."

Shit. This wasn't part of the plan we went over. I watch Cole's eyes go wide again. Kid's smart enough to know what to do, isn't he?

I shrug to the soldier, then motion to Ibany, standing alone at the gate entrance. "If that is what his highness wants, that's what he'll have. Ibany, I'll be back before you know it.

The Tranquil blinks down at her empty hand, then stares at me. She stays quiet. The soldier looks satisfied, and off we walk, deeper into the Starkhaven camp.

The north half of Hightown doesn't look that bad, but the south half didn't put up much of a fight. They fell back behind the barricade. But if the bank doors are being used on this side of the barricade, I have to imagine that at least a little ransacking went on.

We meander through the streets, lined with military tents and bored looking soldiers. The shops that fill this side of town have been opened, supplies gone through, stands empty of goods.

Respectful ransacking. Light looting. Polite pillaging.

Eventually we arrive at the merchant guild hall, a big, impressive building with big impressive gates. If there is anything the merchant guild loves, it's showing off money. It's a very dwarven design, and the doors are flung open to let the sunlight stream in, spilling over the mosaic floor.

Inside, standing in wait, is the choir boy: Sebastian Vael, Prince of Starkhaven.

He looks exactly as I remember in, still in that stupid white armor that could be seen for miles in the dark. It's the sort of armor that should be worn at ceremonies, but it's well made, and Choir Boy always had a sentimental side. It was a gift from his dead parents.

His striking blue eyes take me in, hands on his hips. He seems to want to smile, but isn't sure if that would be wise, so his mouth hovers in this halfway smirk. Deeper into the room, I spy what must be advisors, generals, and one scrawny former Seneshal. Bran.

I pass a quick, assessing look over the group assembled. Two women, four men, including Bran. All human, because of course they are. All dressed well, because of course they are. One of the men looks military. The women look like twins. They all look like they were passing around a lemon before I walked in.

There's a royal guard here, as well, dressed in Starkhaven livery and keeping close to the prince. He's got a bland, forgettable face, but sharp little eyes that are fixed on me. Guards always make me miss Bianca something fierce.

"Varric," Sebastian says at last, and his arms open in welcome. "This is a surprise. I was not aware you left Skyhold. It is good to see you, old friend."

Is it? I flash a quick smile and let out a little laugh. "Too cold up there for my taste. Thought I'd check on Kirkwall. So! Prince Vael, is it? How's that working out for you?"

Sebastian lets out a sigh, and his shoulders sag. "Not as well as I had hoped." He walks to a set of chairs about a table. The eyes of his advisors follow me like wasps on a picnic basket. They all stand at attention as their prince sits, and he motions me to join him. "I thought we would be greeted by the people as saviors. We expected some resistance, of course, but nothing like this. The people should want order restored."

I hop up into the offered chair. Humans and their tall-ass chairs. "Well, sort of a chaotic time, Highness. Tough to know who to trust."

"They should trust in the Maker, and that I am an instrument of His will, Varric." Sebastian's intense blue eyes lock on me. "As I have always been."

Yeeeah, he hasn't changed a bit, has he? My eyes dart across the room, looking for a funny hat in the shadows. Nothing. "I don't doubt that one bit, Ch-... Highness."

The corner of Sebastian's mouth curls up, slightly, at my little slip into his old nickname. "Tell me what she's like. The Herald."

She's not the Herald, for one. I clear my throat and sit up a bit straighter, "I'm not sure what I can say that you don't already know. Elf, mage, glowy hand. Friendly, fair. Funny haircut."

Sebastian scoots a bit forward in his seat, "I've not had the chance to meet her yet. I'd hoped after we annexed Kirkwall, I would see Skyhold. And come now, Varric. You're a wordsmith, surely you can describe who she truly is better than that!"

She left my best friend behind.

I laugh again, and hold my hands up, "I have to save some of the good stuff for the novelization, Highness. But a tease is fair, for old time's sake."

"For old time's sake," Sebastian agrees with a faint, sad smile, then nods for me to continue.

"She glows. Not just the mark on her hand that can open and close tears in the fade with a simple sweep of her arm. She's light, and the faithful are like moths, who can't help but be drawn in. Hard to define exactly what the allure is. She's pretty, sure, but not dazzling in her beauty. If she's been touched by the Maker Himself, that's impossible to know for certain, and she doesn't quite know herself. It's a purity of spirit. An honesty, an openness. She wants to do right, and she knows how hard that is, and the pain it can cause. And she feels that inevitable pain, makes it her own... but she keeps carrying on." My head shakes, "It's a rare quality, precious, so naturally people want to witness it and be a part of it." I look back at Sebastian. "I'm thinking something like that on the jacket flap."

Sebastian is still watching me in rapt attention. "An elf. And a mage." He exhales, then chuckles, "Despite that, I suspect there are any number of suitors clambering for her attention."

I arch a brow. That's a bit out of character for Choir Boy. "Things are a bit tender for her in the romance department at present." I grin and shake my head, "But I didn't come to gossip. And despite the impression you seem to have, I'm not here on behalf of the Inquisition."

His smile fades. "But you were keen to use that impression to gain an audience with me."

I shrug, "Guilty as charged."

He's frowning now, and his various advisors shift about in the background, mirroring his irritation. "You're here on behalf of the Guard Captain, aren't you? The pair of you were always close."

"Now, Highness, that's not it at all. I'm here to do what is best for Kirkwall, and that means ending this war. I'm on my hometown's side. Honest."

Sebastian is on his feet, and from the glares I get from the peanut gallery, I realize I should stand, too. "Then you know that being brought into Starkhaven is what is best for Kirkwall!"

"Choir Boy, I say this as a friend," I don't pretend to flub this time. The nickname is still intentional, a stronger reminder that I'm not his enemy. "I'm going to need a bit more convincing."

"Convincing?" Sebastian sputters. "The city is without leadership and utterly devoid of spiritual guidance, ever since that mage-..." His teeth grit at the thought. "This is all his doing, and Andraste help me, I will see him and those who supported him pay, and I will see Kirkwall brought to heel. This... chaos only drives Kirkwall further from the Maker's sight, makes it more open to corruption." He stalks to the other side of the table. "Only when the Chant of Light is sung in all corners of the world, will He return to us. What more convincing do you need?"

"He's lonely," a voice whispers. "He's a baby bird."

I cast my eyes about quickly to see if anyone else heard. Doesn't look like it. I wet my lips quickly and step a little closer to the prince, "Blessed are the peacekeepers, right? That's what I care about, highness. There has to be a peaceful solution to this mess. We've had enough war."

Sebastian's lips pull back into a grimace, and he glances over at the small collection of women and men. They all look like they want to join in on the conversation, but manage to stay silent. Except for Bran, the recently elected viscount of Kirkwall.

"Your highness," he says, chin held high. "If the city would be willing to submit to your rule willingly, perhaps. But they have already shown that they will not."

I eyeball the former seneschal, and he meets my gaze coolly. He's the sort of man who is happy to be at the side of great men. He doesn't want to put the work into being great himself. Life is a lot easier in the shade of a big shadow.

"The end result we want is order and peace, right?" I look back at Sebastian. "The Chantry restored? We can work from there."

"That isn't what he wants," Cole whispers, and I catch sight of him, weaving through the advisors, his gaze fixed on Sebastian. I try to shake my head at him, to wordlessly tell him to pipe down before he's noticed.

"Hawke wanted peace, too," Sebastian says at last. "He tried to play peacekeeper. But he faltered when he should have been righteous." The prince lifts his head to watch me closely.

I shake my head slowly, "You weren't at the last fight. You didn't see..." I pause, then continue, "This wasn't all Blondie's fault, not entirely. Meredith had a red lyrium idol since Maker knows when. For years. And Orsino was dabbling in blood magic for just as long. It was a powder keg, any spark could have set it off. Anders just chose to be that spark."

"Elthina died for his attempt at martyrdom!"

I nod slowly, "And he should be brought to justice to pay for that, I agree with you one hundred percent. But this city, it doesn't deserve more war. No one here knows where Blondie is. Aveline doesn't know, and neither do I."

Sebastian steps closer and bends at the waist to look at me, eye to eye. "Hawke knows."

He takes my stunned silence for some kind of affirmation.

"Hawke knows," he repeats, and it still takes me a moment to find my voice.

"Hawke is dead."

The prince straightens, his mouth a thin line and his eyes narrowed. "I have heard that rumor. I don't believe it, and I don't believe you."

"Sebastian," I say, and I'll admit, my voice cracks a little. "Hawke is dead. We... we left him in the Fade. He chose to stay behind to save the Grey Wardens... to save his brother..."

The prince steps away from me, shaking his head. His advisors watch him with admiration and triumph. "Lies, so that he can hide and continue his treachery. The terms remain the same. We will take this city and search it from top to bottom until we catch Anders' scent. Unless you have anything useful to provide, I trust our business here is concluded."

I stare at the line of figures in shadow, then back at Sebastian. I swallow, and say again, "Hawke is gone." Alarm bells are going off. Something is very very wrong.

"Remove him," Sebastian says to one of the guardsmen, his back to me as he walks into a meeting room in the back of the hall.

The bland Starkhaven royal guard takes me by the arm, a bit too tight, I'll add, to drag me out. "Choir Boy, be reasonable! Come on, let's talk some more! What did you say to me that one time... when you hold onto anger, it colors everything you do!" But he's gone into the shadowy recesses of the hall, and I am dragged out into the street, then back to the gates.

The guard shoves me, a bit too roughly, I'll add, to the ground. And I'm sure that kick of dirt into my ear was intentional. He exchanges a few quick words with the same soldier who let us in, shoots me a dark look, and turns to stalk back to the guild hall.

Ibany is exactly where we left her, standing with perfect posture among a collection of soldiers. The big metal door is opened for us.

"'Is 'ighness is losing 'is patience, I see," the same soldier from before informs us. "You'd best tell your boss 'at the next time sommun comes out this door, iss wif a full surrender."

Another shove, a slam of metal, and we're on the other side of the barricade once more.

I turn to look at Cole, who apparently never left my side. He picks at his fingernails, staring up at the door. "A bird can't learn to fly without any feathers," he murmurs. "But he's mistaken plucking for friendship. They all say yes, and that's almost as good as the real thing, especially since it's all he has."

"Dumb it down for us, Kid. Make your words more solid."

Cole turns to look at me and rolls his lower lip between his teeth as he takes a few moments to try and make sense. "He wants a family."

Oh. Is that all?