Bioware owns all, except this story and any OCs I introduce in it. Enjoy!

"If this was a matter meant for the guards, Hawke, then I'm sure the Viscount would have approached me directly." Aveline followed her friend up the staircases leading to the Viscount's private office.

"The Qunari have put many citizens of Kirkwall on end," Hawke explained while sharing a grin with Varric. "You said yourself that even your men are beginning to feel the stress of having the Qunari occupy half of the docks."

"True," she agreed. "But the guards haven't been given permission to force the Qunari out. We aren't even allowed to let them use one of Kirkwall's ships to transport them back to Par Vollen."

Varric smirked and nudged Hawke. "But wouldn't you want to know what's going on in the city, Aveline? I'm sure you would have bent Hawke's ear for details if she didn't ask you to come with us."

The Captain of the Guard tried to hide her smile with a frown, but Hawke could hear the mirth in her voice. "I never knew it was like you to weasel your way hither and thither, Varric."

He chuckled and shrugged. "You learn a few things while attending Merchant Guild meetings, what can I say?"

Merrill smiled and looked between her two friends. "I thought you never attended those meetings, Varric?"

"Daisy," he sighed dramatically, "when you're as skilled as I am, you learn to be there without actually being there."

Merrill frowned and tilted her head to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand—it wasn't dirty, was it?"

Varric patted her on the shoulder. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over, Daisy."

Hawke moved toward the Viscount's office doors when she was stopped abruptly by a very flustered Seneschal Bran. Hawke nodded in greeting.

"Serah Hawke," he stated in his typical aristocratic tone. His eyes darted between her and her companions, sizing them up. "You've made quite the name for yourself over the past four years. Kirkwall's citizenry seem to have nothing better to speak of. Your adventures are well known."

"Thank you for the praise, Seneschal." She kept her expression neutral as he scrutinized her face. "The Hawke name will continue to be a popular topic, I assure you."

His brow furrowed and he took a step forward. He lowered his voice as he spoke, "Then let me remind you that the moment you choose to fall from grace, word will reach the Viscount in a matter of hours. Should you prove to be a nuisance to Kirkwall and her people, we will not hesitate to eradicate you."

She squared her shoulders and held her ground. "I have no plans to turn on Kirkwall, Bran."

"That is Seneschal Bran to you," he grunted. He stepped aside and gestured toward the doors. "The Viscount waits for your company. I would suggest not making him wait any further." When Hawke and her company walked past him, he cleared his throat and shot her an expectant look. "I believe he only requested Serah Hawke."

Aveline crossed her arms, ready to retort, but Hawke put a hand on her arm. She smiled at the Seneschal, Aveline's glare visible in her peripheral vision, and sweetly said, "Thank you, Seneschal Bran. My friends will just wait right here, won't they?" She turned back toward her small group, slipping Varric a sly wink. He chuckled and rolled his shoulders.

"We'll be right here, Hawke," he promised. The Seneschal did not see the mischievous look pass on his face.

"It's neverending," Viscount Dumar sighed. He sat in his chair, his hands folded under his chin. At first glance, it would only seem that he was in deep thought. But Hawke knew the look of desperation on his face—knew that his hands were folded in prayer. Her own mother sported the look when her father and Bethany died.

"The Qunari will not leave?"

The Viscount looked up at her with tired eyes. "They still claim that they are waiting for their ships back to Par Vollen. Who am I to believe?" He stared at his desk, the muscles in his face taut, making himself look as old as his years. "Do I trust that the Arishok is speaking the truth, or do I take matters into my own hands and investigate further?" A pause stretched between them, and Hawke wondered if he expected an answer.

A sad sound escaped his throat, and he rubbed his forehead. "If I investigate, it will only anger the Qunari and perhaps rally them for battle."

"It seems as if you are only prolonging peace between Kirkwall and the Qunari, not guaranteeing it," Hawke said.

"It seems that is the only safe option I have, Serah Hawke."

"Maybe choosing the safe way isn't the answer." He waited for an explanation. "The Qunari have been in Kirkwall for years. As far as I know, they grow disgusted by Kirkwall's people. With them still here, it is only a matter of time before that disgust reaches its limit."

The Viscount was quiet for some time. Hawke wasn't sure if he had even heard her, but when he stood up from his seat, she knew he had. "Perhaps you are right," he admitted. "But I would rather avoid awakening a sleeping giant."

She inclined her head. "It was not my intention to question your authority, Viscount Dumar."

"Nor did I ever accuse you of it." A small smile cracked the old man's stony features. "Sometimes I wish you were seneschal, serah."

Hawke bit her lip to keep laughter at bay. "You flatter me."

He slowly paced the length of the room. "You have listened to my every complaint, Serah Hawke, without showing annoyance or irritation. Instead, you offer yourself as a way to help." He stopped and turned toward her. "If I may ask: why?"

"Kirkwall is my home," she responded easily. "I protect what is most dear to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your home? I'm aware that the Amells once had great standing in Kirkwall, but I do not recall the name 'Hawke' in our history books."

Hawke met his gaze with her own. "My family, be they Hawke or Amell, have roots in Kirkwall. I aim to make sure that those roots stay here."

"So it is not for your own bidding, then? You choose to help me with the Qunari based on family and not on yourself?" He stared at one of his bookshelves and whispered, "Is it possible for someone to sacrifice so much for others?"

Hawke opened her mouth, but found that she could not form words. Her jaw hung open, and she glued her eyes to the floor so that the Viscount could not see her flabbergasted expression. She closed her mouth and swallowed. "I—I..."

"Forgive me," he mercifully interrupted. "I did not summon you here to question your motives, though I hold more respect for you now, if that is even possible." He sat back down and waited until she collected herself. He leaned forward in his seat. "The Arishok has requested an audience with you by name. It appears that there are a select few that he is not disgusted with."

Hawke, now standing straight and keeping her head level, blinked in surprise. "You are positive he wants to see me?"

The Viscount nodded. "It is surprising, isn't it?"

"And by 'request', I suppose he is demanding it?"

The Viscount cleared his throat. "You need not listen to his demands, Serah Hawke. You could always walk away from this."

"And that will only justify the Qunari's disposition toward Kirkwall. No, I will meet with him."

He smiled again. "Should it concern Kirkwall, please let me know as soon as possible."

She bowed. "On the honor of my family name, Viscount Dumar.

"And then, not being phased by the blood-red paint smeared on the bandit leader's gruesome face, Hawke stood her ground and demanded that he fight alongside his comrades like a real man. The bandit leader, realizing that a woman—a female of the opposite sex—had just demanded something from him—"

"—Varric—"

"—jumped down from his vantage point on the cliffs, brandished his sword, and charged right at Hawke—"

"—Varric—"

"—and Hawke, having seen Death's face more times than she'd care to count, met his assault without the slightest resistance—"

Hawke crossed her arms and gave him an incredulous look. "And slayed the bandit leader with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back, correct?"

Varric huffed, irritated that someone from his audience interrupted him, and whirled around to face the gutsy person. "Spoilers aren't very becoming of a—Hawke! I... wasn't expecting you to be done with your meeting so soon! What brings you here?"

Hawke glanced between the audience gathered at the foyer of the Keep and her friend. "I see you've been keeping yourself occupied."

"Well, after Daisy and I turned all the books upside down, we decided to take it to the next level."

Hawke smirked. "You're lucky Isabela didn't come with us—"

"And I can say the same for you," he laughed. "But I'm willing to bet ten sovereigns that I was the best entertainment these people have seen in quite some time." He gestured toward his audience. "I'm sure Seneschal Bran enjoyed it, too."

Hawke looked through the small crowd to see the Seneschal, ruffled feathers and everything, usher and squawk at the audience, trying to maintain some semblance of order. He ordered the guards to assist him, but they shifted awkwardly on their feet. With their Captain only a few feet away, seemingly content to watch Seneschal Bran actually work, they did not know whether to remain at ease or to actually listen to the man.

"And Merrill?" Hawke asked.

"De-alphabetizing the bookshelves," Varric shrugged. "Well, you took longer than we expected," he said in defense of the look she gave him. He followed after her when she walked toward the Keep's exit. "So, what's the Viscount want from you? Your mother hasn't been pestering him again about the Amells, has she?"

"If she was, I think he'd make the Seneschal take care of that," Hawke said.

"Speaking of the Seneschal," Aveline started as she dragged Merrill through the crowd of people, "I've heard that you're seeing his son, Raydin. Is that true, Hawke?"

Hawke visibly cringed and waited until they were finally out of the Keep before answering her. "I haven't even met him yet, and already people say I'm seeing him?"

Aveline smiled and released her vice-like grip on Merrill. The elven girl rubbed her arm, certain that there would be bruises. Isabela was right when she dubbed her 'Captain Man Hands.'

"I don't mean to pry, but be careful around Raydin. He isn't as disdainful as his father, but the apple never falls too far from the tree. He's been known to find trouble and then miraculously find a way out."

"Sounds a bit like Hawke," Varric mused.

"No," Aveline deadpanned. "Hawke doesn't hide behind her family name to snivel her way out of sticky situations."

"Was that supposed to be dirty, Aveline?" Merrill asked with her usual innocent face.

"Merrill, keep walking," the guard captain sighed.

"So, if not your mother, then I have one more hunch as to what the Viscount could possibly want." Varric patted Bianca. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with the Ox Men, does it?"

"You can ask the Arishok that when we get there."

"Javaris," Varric spat as they left the Qunari Compound. "Now there's a dwarf who should have stayed underground."

Hawke shook her head as she led the group out of the Docks. "He isn't the most tactful of people, Varric. I doubt he realizes what he's getting himself into."

"That hardly matters when lives are at stake," Aveline said. "Do we have any leads on him?"

"The Coterie," Varric supplied. "He's too shady to try the Merchant's Guild."

"I thought they had a hand in that as well?" Aveline frowned.

"To some extent. Wherever money is, you can count on The Coterie being involved." Varric took Aveline's silence as a good sign. "Besides, I'm looking forward to descending stairs instead of ascending them."

"And why should I tell you where Javaris' whereabouts are, hm?"

A frown tugged at Hawke's mouth. "You said yourself: he's been skipping on payments. Now why would the Coterie be interested in protecting a disloyal customer?"

Varric smirked and shook his head. "Seems to me the Coterie's been a bit degraded if they're willing to accept missed payments. I thought this organization was more... what's the word?"

"Criminal. Thieving. Cutthroat. An arrow-in-your-spine," Aveline growled, her eyes set in a glower on the Coterie member.

"Take your pick." Varric smiled and tilted his head to the side. "Now wouldn't that be unfortunate if word of this spread over Kirkwall?"

The Coterie Barker took a step back and narrowed her eyes at the group. "Isn't that an idea?"

"Of course, we could forget we ever had this conversation if you told us where Javaris Tintop fled to." Hawke smiled when the Barker sighed and nodded.

"I suppose that would save both our hides, yeah? He used Darktown's tunnels to reach a place called 'Smuggler's Cut'. Do me a favor if you see 'im? Tell 'im to find someone else to cheat."

"You do realize that this is criminal?" Aveline asked as they descended into the tunnels. The tunnels branched out into caves, and she had to keep one hand on Merrill's arm so that the clumsy elf wouldn't trip over a rock or jutting root.

"But it's for the Viscount and Kirkwall," Hawke reasoned. "We don't know what he's going to do with that poison gas—will he use it as a way to blackmail the Qunari for previously insulting him, or will he actually use it?"

"I don't think Javaris is nervy enough to use the poison," Varric commented.

"Maybe," Hawke nodded, "but what's stopping him from making some coin by selling it to someone who has a bone to pick with Kirkwall?"

"I see your point," Aveline said. "It just doesn't feel like protocol for the Captain of the Guard to make an arrest without a small contingent of guards behind her."

"That didn't stop you from asking me to help foil Jeven's plot against the Guard," Hawke chuckled.

"That is true," Aveline agreed with a smile.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Merrill chirped, "but does anyone else feel as if it is too quiet?" They stopped as a unit and unsheathed their weapons. Hawke held her staff tightly and drummed her fingers against it, her eyes darting everywhere at once in the cave.

"I smell an ambush," Varric quietly mused. Bianca was ready when the first thug leapt down from the ledges surrounding them; her bolt landed perfectly in his forehead.

"Carta!" Hawke yelled as she and Merrill stepped back to cast spells at a safe distance. But they were not allowed that luxury, as more of the Carta thugs swarmed them. Though their armor wasn't exactly the best, they were hardy and determined dwarves fit for battle in great numbers.

Merrill kept the worst of the Carta at bay by summoning rocks that locked their feet in place, and Aveline finished them off either with her shield or sword. Whenever one of the thugs would venture too close to the mages, Hawke would dig her staff in the ground and conjure a small circle of fire around Merrill and herself.

"Behind you!"

Aveline turned just in time to block an incoming blow. She pushed back with her shield, staggering the thug, then slammed it into his skull. Varric whistled in appreciation when he heard and saw the skull cave in. A bolt whistled past Aveline, planting itself in a Carta thug who tried to flank her. The shot didn't kill him, but a swipe from Hawke's staff sent a fountain of blood spurting from his neck.

Merrill danced toward Hawke as four thugs charged toward them. Merrill shouted and thrust her staff out, and the vines littering the cave floor twitched and reacted to her call. Her magic warped them to her liking, and they shot out and tangled the thugs in their snare. The Carta members fell to the ground, cursing and struggling to hack away at their binds. But they never could regain their feet, as Hawke scorched them all to charred corpses.

"I suppose 'stop, drop, and roll' doesn't apply here?" Varric asked as he finished off the last thug.

Hawke panted and wiped the sweat off her brow. While controlling the element of fire was a hugely beneficial and impressive feat, the fiery magic swirling in the caster's veins caused the user to sweat profusely. There was no spell that could prevent this little setback, and the only solution she knew and was not fond of was Tranquility.

Her father had once taught her that each school of magic and their levels of study had different effects on the body. Casters who specialized in earth-based spells often had a musky, wet leaf smell to them. Merrill smelled like autumn and dew-soaked grass, though it was very subtle. With Anders having experience with lightning spells, it wasn't uncommon for someone to experience a small spark when brushing past him. The feathers on his coat attracted enough static as it were.

Especially the feathers, those blasted things.

Her staff was slick with sweat from her palms and her hair was plastered to her forehead. She grunted and watched as Varric looted the bodies.

"Do you think you could have killed them without charring their possessions?" he grumbled. She shrugged and offered him a small smile.

"Why would the Carta be here?" Aveline pondered aloud as she nudged a body with her boot. "Do you think they're to gain something by helping Javaris?"

"Or are they trying to stop Javaris, as well?" Hawke shook her head and joined Aveline. "Or maybe they're not even related. The Carta are common enough in Darktown; it's no surprise that they'd be frequenting the caves, too."

"I don't like this," Aveline said. She crossed her arms. "Whatever their reasons are, the sooner we confront Javaris, the better. I'll sleep easier knowing he's behind bars."

They pressed on, keeping their eyes peeled for any more of the Carta. Varric stopped the group periodically to search through rotten barrels and crates. Most of what he found was of little import until he exclaimed in delight and showed Hawke his discovery.

"Rivaini would appreciate this, I bet," he chuckled. Hawke packed the tiny ship in a bottle away and led them further on. They entered a clearing in the cave packed with an even greater number of Carta. Aveline took the front with Varric at her flank, and Merrill and Hawke stood their ground behind them.

Merrill continued to twist the vines around the Carta's ankles, causing them to stumble and fall right on Aveline's sword. The Guard Captain roared and swept her blade clear through one of the Carta's necks, but his comrades quickly took his place.

Hawke cursed as more came pouring out from hidden passages in the cave. She gripped her staff tightly in one hand and raised the other to the ceiling, murmuring under her breath. Controlled rocks of fire rained down on the next swarm of Carta, halting them from swarming Aveline. Varric concentrated Bianca on them while Merrill watched Aveline's flank.

"There's more of them!" Aveline barked out before rushing them, her shield drawn in front of her. She smashed through the Carta leading the next wave, and he fell backward into his comrade. While she was occupied with finishing him off, one of the Carta—an Assassin, Hawke guessed—snaked around Aveline and stole a swipe across her shoulder blades.

"Aveline!" Merrill shrieked. She hurried to move her position closer to her friend's.

Her armor deflected most of the attack, but the impact of the blow caused her to lurch forward. More of the Carta saw the opportunity at hand, but before they could land another hit on her, Merrill launched a rock projectile toward them. They scattered and scrambled for cover as the rock burst and broke into small, sharpened missiles. They dove to the ground and covered their heads as the pieces of rock showered them. Varric and Aveline dispatched of them quickly before they could recover, and Hawke used her fire spells to keep the Carta behind them at bay.

Soon enough, the battle was over, all four of them panting and downing the high of battle. Merrill had fallen on her bottom from the relief of the battle being over.

"Did he break skin or bone?" Hawke asked once she collected herself. Aveline rolled her shoulders and winced.

"I don't believe so," she answered. "But it will leave a nasty bruise. Nothing I can't handle."

Hawke nodded and helped Merrill to her feet.

"Now that's a spell I hardly ever use," she nervously chirped. "I almost resisted the pull of magic." She held onto Hawke's shoulder for support and looked down at her feet. She wiggled her toes. "I wish I wore shoes," the elf sighed. "This stone is cold and hard on my feet."

"Don't worry, Daisy," Varric smiled. "I'm willing to bet we're almost out of this cave." After checking the bodies for any valuables, they finally emerged from the cave to be greeted with an onslaught of mercenaries, but above all, Javaris.