Chapter Four:

Deep Roads

Watching Bartrand and Varric exist in the same space was disarming. Mads couldn't for the life of her work out just how they were so different. Even Carver and Garret shared traits, or at the very least quirks.

That morning had been tense. Their mother knew they were planning to speak to Bartrand today, and leave as soon as they were able, but as she watched Carver and Mads pack their rucksacks her eyes grew wider and wider, she held her tongue though. Garret was trying to lighten the mood by teasing Gamlen, and it looked like he'd finally decided to bring Kaz with him.

"He's the best Darkspawn destroyer we've got, after all." He said, scratching behind her ears.

And now, Mads stood between Garret and Anders while Bartrand gave a little speech.

"We've chosen one of the hidden entrances. The Deep Roads there will be nice and virginal, ready for a good deflowering, Hah!" He strode back and forth as he spoke, but Mads pulled a face at his words.

Isabela, who had come to see them off, poked her in the side and whispered "Like you."

"It'll take a week for us to get to the depth we need, and there are bound to be leftover Darkspawn from the Blight."

Mads gripped the strap of her rucksack, not particularly interested in what Bartrand had to say. Her brother still hadn't decided which of them he would take, but they all knew it couldn't be both, not if he were to bring Anders.

She couldn't begrudge him that. It made sense to bring Anders. He had more experience with Darkspawn and Deep Roads than any of them, and he'd become a very reliable friend and healer since meeting him. Her brother trusted him implacably.

"Big risks, big rewards!" Bartrand crossed his arms and there were some consenting nods from the company.

"Maker, it sounds like so much fun." Mads whined.

"Trust me, the Deep Roads is the complete opposite." Anders whispered to her. He hadn't wanted to go, but at her brother's behest he'd agreed. She was grateful to him, but also there was a twinge of jealousy there. She wanted to see a Thiag. She wanted to find ancient dwarven treasures. She wanted to at the very least look at an entrance to the Deep Roads before she died. Wanted to keep an eye on Garret's back while he cast spells, as was her usual job.

"We shouldn't take any needless risks." Garret said. When it came down to serious business like his family's future he was less inclined towards jokes.

"This isn't a foolish endeavor. This will work!" Bartrand replied, and then. "Now, before we... wait. Who invited the old woman?"

Their mother stepped into sight. The lines in her forehead seemed deeper. She'd been worrying. Mads could picture her now, pacing back and forth trying to convince herself to stay out of it, that her children were adults and knew what they were doing.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ser Dwarf, but I need to speak with my children."

Carver rolled his eyes, but Garret and Mads went over to her quietly.

"Mother, no. We talked about how important this is." He said, but his face looked pained as well. None of them liked to disappoint her.

"I just want to know one thing:," She said, directly to her oldest. "Are you planning on taking them with you?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on his mothers face. Mads' heart ached. She wondered if he was thinking of Bethany. He still blamed himself, of course, he blamed himself whenever any of them got hurt. She could still remember the time she slipped on some rocks by a river as a child, and Garret desperately apologizing to her while their father healed her broken arm because he should've been holding her hand to make sure she didn't fall. Then, he glanced back at Mads.

"I'm taking Carver." He said, more to her than to their mother. Mads blew out her cheeks and sighed. Of course he would take Carver, she didn't know why she'd even entertained thinking differently.

Carver glanced at her too, almost apologetically.

"I'm going." He said. "It'll be fine."

"It's not fine!" Their mother bust out instantly. "You can't both go! What if something were to happen to you?"

She paused and struggled for words to convince them.

"You I understand wanting to do this. But leave your brother here, I beg you!" Her voice was desperate. Mads knew if it were her Mother were addressing she would've caved. She wasn't good at directly disobeying their mother, she was more the sneak out and pretend nothing ever happened kind.

"I said I'm going. Besides, if we're so bloody afraid of templars, Mads should go with me and he should hide." Carver said.

Mads perked up at this idea, but one look from her mother shut her down.

"Don't be ridiculous! Oh, you can't do this! Neither of them can go! My only girl, and my youngest boy!"

"Well, you're not going to be able to take everyone, anyhow. You'll need to decide." Bartrand snapped from aside.

The rest of the company had started mumbling amongst themselves, but Varric and Anders kept glancing over, vaguely concerned. Isabela looked bored.

And decide he did. Garret would be accompanied by Varric, of course, and then Anders, and Carver.

Mads stood by their mother, fidgeting uncomfortably. Too many things were running through her mind. That it made sense to take Carver, because Garret had Varric to pick locks anyway, and would likely need his brother's extra brute strength rather than his sister's support. That both her brothers were leaving her behind to go somewhere of legendary danger. That if anything happened to them, it would be her, left alone grieving, to take care of their Mother. That anything bad could happen to them at all made her feel dizzy and ill.

And then, selfishly and childishly, that she wanted to go too.

She almost wanted to try and convince Garret to take Fenris or Aveline instead. But they didn't know the reclusive elf well enough yet, and Aveline had so many other commitments Garret hadn't felt right to ask her.

"Carver, I beg you! Don't go, don't do this." Their mother gripped at his shirt a little, looking helpless.

Mads looked to Garret, who watched her for a moment before offering her a small smile. It was a quite asking for forgiveness. She gave him a quick one back, but still turned her head away. She didn't want to cry in front of everyone.

Carver was murmuring quietly to their mother, to sooth her, but she pulled away from him and only cast Garret one look of despair before strolling away, her composure beginning to break.

"Brother..." Mads began quietly. If their mother wouldn't give him a good bye, she would.

"You won't find a husband that pouting like that." He said, reaching out to yank at her ponytail. She pulled away, not in the mood for humorous banter. She looked at him hopelessly.

"Really, we'll be okay. You've got to keep an eye on Mother for us and-"

He paused, because she had thrown herself at him and wrapped her arms around his chest. He was too tall to hug properly, and hugging him like this made her feel like a little girl again.

"Just don't die or something, alright?"

"Of course not. Now get off me before people begin to think I've got feelings." He pushed her away, and tapped her under the chin with his knuckle.

She said good bye to Carver next, and he wrapped her into a big, but quick, hug, making a joke about how he'd make sure to grab her a Darkspawn head as a souvenir.

Mads looked to Varric next, who nodded at her, respectfully, a mutual understand passing between them. He'd known how badly she wanted to go more than anyone, to watch out for her brothers and have a unique adventure. When he told this story she wouldn't be part of it, and that made her insides twist.

"Don't worry, Little Hawke. I'll take care of them." He was rarely serious when he spoke and so this made her feel better. A little.

"You'd best come back, too Varric. I refuse to be widowed so young."

Bartrand snorted, and Varric waved. Anders, touched her arm and said good bye too, assuring her that there wasn't a wound under the sun he couldn't heal. She didn't damper his attempt to comfort her by mentioning that where they were going, there was no sun.

The company left, Garret glanced back at her once as she went, and his eyes flicked momentarily to Isabela, who hooked her arm around Mads' neck.

"Urgh, that's enough sappy drama to last me the rest of the year. How about the Hanged Man? Maybe we can find someone to deflower you, or at the very least you can give us a song."

Mads pouted, but let the pirate pull her away all the same.

Varric had learned about the Hawke sibling dynamic very quickly over the past few months.

Carver resented Hawke's shadow, and Hawke resented being resented while simultaneously feeling guilty about his magic, and being unable to protect their other sister. Madrigal had told him about Bethany one night when she'd come to hear a story. She had been Carver's twin, and by all accounts sounded like a truly gentle human being.

Madrigal acted as a peace-keeping string that kept them tied together. In fact, she was almost the only thing the brothers seemed to have in common other than their black hair and firm jaw lines.

Watching them now, without Madrigal there for them to tease, made him realise just how deteriorated the brother's relationship was. Each time one would offer a word of comfort to the other, he would be shot down, and leave the other one sulking. Carver was naturally sulky, of course. He scowled and kicked things when he was mad. On the other hand, it was harder to tell with Hawke, who carried on like everything was normal yet systematically ignored his younger brother.

One thing was becoming exceptionally clear. Without the Littlest Hawke here, he was going to have to take on the roll of peace-keeper.

He thought of her saying good bye to them then, pretty eyes wide and sad when they started to walk away from her. It was rare for the three Hawkes to be apart, he realised. The only times he saw them separately was when Hawke or Little Hawke visited him, and perhaps very rarely when they were running errands.

"What must it have been like, I wonder." Anders muttered to him.

"What's that, Blondie?"

"Those three, together, constantly. A family with three apostates, always on the run and moving from place to place."

"You think they didn't have any friends?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Apostates don't usually travel outside the safety of their families, too much fear." The mage said thoughtfully. "Our dysfunctional little group could be the first time any of them have had friends."

Varric knew Hawke had had friends. Or at least, friendly acquaintances who warmed his bed. Carver too. But now that he thought of it, Mads had never mentioned anyone other than her brothers when she told him stories of their childhood. A pit settled in his stomach, a small dash of uncertainty and then a realisation.

Other than her brothers, Varric must have been Mads' first friend.

He almost laughed out loud then. Well that's just peachy, he thought. I've taken away that girl's brothers and her closest friend.

He sent a bolt flying, whistling through the air and striking a Darkspawn through the throat just as it was about to slam Garret's head with it's mace.

We'd better get them through this, Bianca.

It had been a week since her brothers left, and Mads had been keeping herself busy by finishing off some business Garret hadn't had time for. Isabela, Fenris and Merrill were usually happy to accompany her on these tasks.

Merrill walked straight into her back, squeaking in alarm when she came to a sudden halt.

"We're not lost again, are we?" Isabela groaned.

"I'm just so used to following Garret around that I guess I never learned how to, you know, find places."

"Who?" Merrill chirped. She really was like a bird, with her musical voice and feathery cloak.

"Garret? My brother? You know, tall, sarcastic, hero complex..."

"Oh, you mean Hawke!"

"We shouldn't be so out in the open." Fenris said. He wasn't so light hearted as his peers. Mads felt for him, she really did, she couldn't imagine the fear he must feel, but Maker she wish he'd lighten up.

"Listen, we could-"

"You!"

Mads spun around in fright, only to come face to face with Sebastian Vael. His hand shot out and curled around her forearm to keep her from running. What were the chances? Here? Now? She looked around. They were outside the Chantry. She swore.

"We need to talk." He looked serious, and suddenly she felt like a school girl being chided. She imagined he had that effect on people.

"My, My, My." Isabela said, eyeing the minor physical contact. "Mad-ri-gal, what will your brothers say?"

"Isabela." Mads said, exasperated, "It's not what you think."

"Oh, why can't it be for once? That skin, those cheek bones and he's a prince." The pirate wiggled her eyebrows. Sebastian didn't blush, but Mads did, a slight pink tingeing her cheeks she tried to tug her arm away from him, but he held her firmly. He didn't respond at all to the implications.

"I remember you." He said. "You're a friend of Master Hawkes. You helped him kill the mercenaries."

"I may have." She watched him quietly for a moment, amber eyes wandering between the prince and Mads, assessing the situation.

"My suggestion would be that you unhand her." Fenris growled lowly. They weren't the closest of friends but she had been getting the airy feeling that Garret might've spoken to Fenris and Isabela about keeping an eye on her.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows at the elf, but didn't say anything, instead he looked to Mads.

"You won't run?"

"I swear."

He released her, and she stayed true to her word, merely brushing off her shirt where he'd been holding her.

"My apologies... but I need to speak with you and I thought..." His eyes flicked to her companions, all of whom were watching curiously. "Alone, preferably."

Isabela was practically buzzing with assumptions that Mads would undoubtedly have to spend hours refuting later that night. She began to make an excuse as to why she couldn't go with him, but the pirate jumped in.

"We'll return the ring, Madrigal." She simpered, holding it up so it shone in the sunlight. Mads' hand flew to the pouch she'd had it in. Isabela had pinched it. "This is clearly very important. Meet you later, precious."

She shoved Fenris, who gave her a withering look, and Merrill trotted along behind her asking what was happening.

Mads was alone with Sebastian Vael. This was exactly where she didn't want to be. The only place she wanted to be less was alone with Eren and his templar brute friends.

He beckoned her to follow him, and she did, realising uncomfortably that she couldn't risk upsetting a man who knew her secret. Not after their last run in. He led her around the Chantry, into it's gardens, and slowed his walk to a stroll. There was no one around. All the sisters would be inside for the afternoon service. She trailed along behind him, hesitant, fingers twitching towards her daggers.

"Have you been given anymore trouble by those templars?" He asked. He looked straight ahead instead of back at her. Didn't he know she could stab him right now if she wanted to? Did he trust his Maker so much?

"No. I've managed." She replied curtly.

He looked at her then, and she met his gaze as though challenging him to push her.

"Templars Eren, Hank and Wills were found dead four days ago." He crossed his arms.

Mads' mouth fell open. She only just managed to stop herself from cheering. Dead. Dead. The templars who knew about her brother were dead. She'd only seen Eren three times since Sebastian had saved her that night, and each time she'd parted with 15 sovereigns. She'd made sure to meet him in well-lit Hightown areas, of course, not that it mattered anymore.

A huge weight left her. She felt visibly lighter. Like she'd been slouching for days and days on end and had just stretched herself out. Everything looked brighter, as well, she actually felt like she had time to stop and observe her surroundings.

No more staying out night after night scrounging up those last few pieces of gold. Lying to her mother, and brothers, when they caught her coming in late, pinching silvers from Garret's savings pouch and blaming it on Gamlen.

She could breathe again.

"Judging from your expression I would guess you didn't know." Sebastian sounded surprised.

Her exuberance faltered. "You thought I killed them?"

She was about to launch into a rant about how if she could get away with killing three templars on her own she might've done it already, but he shook his head.

"All evidence points towards blood magic."

She paused.

"Hazard of their job, I would think." She said.

He watched her with narrowing eyes. If he had fallen for her damsel in distress act in the first place, he was certainly suspicious of her now.

He cleared his throat.

"Their service was held in the Chantry two days ago. I recognized them, and began searching for you." Sebastian stopped walking and turned to face her, she almost walked straight into him. "Your family member..."

"It wasn't." She said instantly. "Even if he were weak enough to fall for demons, he's away."

"I... don't know if I can believe you." He frowned and scratched the back of his head. "Could there be a chance that he found out, and killed them in a rage for trying to take advantage of you?"

"No." She said. "Serah Vael, I swear. Killing templars isn't something he'd do, even with a reason."

"You lied to me before." The prince said pointedly. "Didn't you? Judging by your new attire, and your friends, I would say you do okay for yourself."

He wasn't wrong. The presence of her new companions had opened up many more work opportunities, and after her brothers had left she'd been splashing out on new gear. She still looked scruffy – hair unkempt, shirt slightly dirty, mud stained boots, but overall her daggers, vest and belt were of a better quality.

She juggled her options. She could reveal who her brother was to him, and hope that his opinion of Garret was high enough not to report them, or keep on lying and pray to the Maker that he let her off. He was clearly smarter than she'd originally anticipated.

"I did lie to you." She said carefully. "But not entirely. And not without reason. I just needed your sympathy."

"Never mind." He rubbed his temples, frustrated. "You must understand my position. Three men are dead, and I'm only one with any sort of lead."

"I didn't have anything to do with it. Neither did my family. Please. If you take me to the Knight-Commander my brother will be taken away." She was becoming desperate now, plotting how she could get out of this. As soon as she'd felt free she was trapped again, though this time to someone whose sense of justice would ruin her. The only thing she had working for her was one simple fact: if Sebastian was telling her all this now, then he hadn't told anyone else yet. There was some part of him that wondered if turning her in was the right thing to do.

"I'm sorry."

Mads looked at his face. The face of a man who had lost his entire family, and saved her only months before, and who had the audacity, one might even call it honor, to come to her and gently let her know he was planning on ruining her life before actually doing it.

She lunged.

He was prepared.

The prince grabbed her wrist as she swung her fist towards his head, and twisted it around. She lashed her leg between his and tripped him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Mads had to admit, she'd had more graceful fights before, but this man was an archer, and close range was what she did best.

His grip on her wrist was hard, but she drew one of her daggers with her other hand. He grabbed that wrist too, rolling them over so that she was pinned under him and he had the advantage. With no hands left to keep her still with, she head butted him, hard. He released her unarmed hand and she used the opportunity to push him off of her.

Sebastian's armor was sharp, and pressed into her skin. She grabbed her dagger out of her trapped hand with her free one, but instead of stabbing him directly and getting her wrist trapped again, she flicked it between his armor and sliced several buckles, then leapt off of him, but he followed in a flurry, his chest piece now dangling off him, giving her more area to stab.

Someone was bleeding, but she couldn't figure out who. They were all flying limbs, battling for control. Sebastian was trying to grab her arms, her body, anything, to keep her contained, while she was just trying to inflict as much damage as possible. Her hair had come loose and begun to get in her way, obscuring her vision.

The prince somehow worked his way behind her, and pinned her arms to her sides, pressing painfully into a pressure point on her hand so that her dagger fell to the ground.

"Calm down!" He hissed right in her ear. "You need to calm down."

She tried to elbow him, but while she was blind rage he was calculating and cool and held her fast and strong. Her muscles were burning from all the sudden exertion and she began to stop struggling, furious with herself, and with him, and with templars, and with mages, and with her father for dying and lastly with her brothers, for leaving her with all this over-whelming responsibility.

She was panting heavily, and so was he, she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

"You... can't... turn... me in." She said between breaths, even though she'd probably just given him more than enough reason to.

"You tried... to kill me!" Sebastian said. He hadn't lightened his grip. He clearly didn't trust her anymore.

"You didn't leave me much choice!"

"If I was unsure before I'm almost certain now. You were involved with those templar's deaths." He snarled. "I was a fool to trust you in the first place."

Almost certain.

"Let me prove it." She said suddenly, anger subsiding slightly as she formed the idea. She could feel something warm and wet trickling down her arm, and knew it was blood. She'd have to get her injuries treated non-magically later on without Anders around to patch her up. Maybe she'd have a scar for once.

He chuckled, mockingly. The movement vibrated through her. "Prove it how?"

"I'll find out who killed them. Prove it wasn't me, or my brother."

A weighted silence followed this while Sebastian considered it. She didn't imagine he would, he had no reason to. She racked her head for some kind of verse she could use to convince him. Something about the Maker being forgiving, or requiring evidence, anything. But she'd never paid much attention when Mother tried to get her to remember them, her head was too filled with the lyrics of songs and the words of stories.

"I can't let you out of my sight." He said. "If it was you, or your brother, you might run."

"I know."

"So we figure this out together." He released her, and she stumbled forward, surprised. She didn't ask him why, instead she steadied herself and then turned to look at him.

He was covered in dry dust from the ground beneath them. She knew she must've been the same. His upper lip was split, and a bruise was forming on his cheek. His chest plate hung off him side ways, but he looked mostly unharmed.

Mads glanced at her arm and saw a long thin cut there, dripping blood slowly down her arm. She picked up the scrap of dark blue fabric she used to tie up her hair and wrapped it around her cut instead. The prince was still tense, watching her carefully to make sure she didn't flee.

"We should treat that properly." He said, terribly calm considering she'd just tried to kill him. "It looks like a clean cut, so it shouldn't scar."

"Your armor's as sharp as it is shiny."

Sebastian didn't laugh, but she thought he saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

"Come. Let's get cleaned up, and then start this investigation."

The sisters were beside themselves when they saw the pair. Service had just finished, the congregation barely departed, and they were swarmed with robed women fussing over them.

"Oh, Sebastian. What happened?" One of them said, gazing at Mads.

He hesitated. "It's..."

"Your Sebastian saved me." Mads said, "He was so brave, Sisters, so brave. I was jumped by a whole gang and he intervened and saved me, just as I was beginning to think the Maker had abandoned me."

The sisters ooh'ed and ahh'ed, and Sebastian gave her a prudish look. She wasn't sure on his policy on lying, but she did remember Garret saying he was a brother of the Chantry who simply had yet to renew his vowels. That was fine, she would simply have to do the lying for them.

It didn't take long for the sisters to clean them up. They even took Mads out back and gave her a bath, murmuring sympathetic words, even washing her hair, and thanking the Maker kind Sebastian had been walking by when he did. They washed her clothes while she bathed, and treated her wound while she dried off.

It was a strange and wonderful experience, being pampered like this. She was beginning to think she should wander into the Chantry after being 'attacked' more often.

Bruises were beginning to form on her wrists where Sebastian had grabbed them, as well as on her shoulder where she'd hit the ground. There were marks on her sides as well. It had been a long time since she'd had a physical altercation where the other person had actually gotten a hit on her. She chalked it up to her anger clouding her mind, though she had to admit Sebastian wasn't the soft kind of prince who cowered behind his crown away from combat. He clearly had experience. Her face remained unmarked. She found herself wondering what kind of Prince would be so capable in a scrappy fight like that one. Most of them, if they were trained at all, were trained to lead honorably and under strict military rule, not fist and dagger bar brawls.

The sisters churned her out good as new, sinfully proud of themselves. An Orlesian one showed her a new way to do her hair to keep it from unraveling so easily.

"But it'll be pretty as well!" She gushed, it was a loose braid with a fancy Orlesian name she knew she wouldn't remember.

One of them had even sewed up the holes and cuts in her shirt's sleeves. It was too big for her, they noted and offered to take it in. She told them it was her brothers.

They gave her instructions to change the dressing on her wound that night, and promised it wasn't serious, just a light cut.

When she was dressed they took her back to Sebastian, who was standing guard to make sure she couldn't make a break for it. He'd washed up as well, fixed and cleaned his armor, but the bruise on the lower half of his face had darkened considerably.

After saying good bye to the sisters she turned to Sebastian.

"They're very..."

"Generous?" He raised an eyebrow. "The sisters of the Chantry are usually raised here from birth. It's a mark of pride to show kindness to others."

"Is pride not against the Maker?" It was a genuine question.

The prince looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said "If one asks for forgiveness, the Maker wouldn't judge those who are doing His work."

He glanced down at her.

"You're not of Faith?"

"I'm not not of faith. I've just never found it to help me in the past." She was uncomfortable. Sebastian, for all his holiness, gave off an air of judgment as harsh as his justice. He seemed to believe in black and white. Ultimate Good and Ultimate Evil. While she was more of a grey area kind of person.

"Well," He said. "You may find Him helpful to you in the coming days. Shall we go and prove your innocence?"

Mads scowled at his tone, nodded once, and led the way.