"What does one do when they finally stop running?"

Misery hadn't had a good answer for Fenris when he'd posed the question in response to her suggestion that Danarius might never come back. After all, it had been the better part of four years with nary a peep since the Tevinter magister had left Kirkwall.

Her lack of an answer didn't come from knowledge that she herself was still running. She didn't see herself in that light at all. Rather it was because she never quite understood why Fenris chose to live with the uncertainty of Danarius hanging over him. She'd have gone after Danarius, danger be damned. She'd already proven that with Corypheus. Even after having eliminated the Carta dwarves and Grey Wardens working on his behalf, Misery wasn't going to live with not knowing if Corypheus would find others to send after her and Bethany in the future.

Fenris, on the other hand, was an odd combination of active defiance and passive resignation to fate. Misery understood that he didn't like the Danarius situation being unresolved and that staying in the Tevinter owned mansion was an open invitation for the magister to try to come after him. But she didn't understand letting that continue to fester, to dominate nearly every aspect of his life.

And dominate his life it did. Like Anders, with his constant harping on the oppression of mages, Fenris seemingly said little that didn't tie back to his former life in some way. And Misery had no idea what to tell someone who was unwilling to help themselves.

Walking back to her estate with Revas after seeing Fenris, Misery sighed in equal parts relief and general mental fatigue. She didn't dislike Fenris. In fact, she appreciated his skill, his reliability, his no nonsense approach to missions, and that he'd gradually become a good friend to Bethany despite their very rocky beginning. But that didn't mean Misery was close to him or that she wanted to bear his emotional burdens. In fact, she only went to see him because Varric had slightly guilted her into doing it as favor to Bethany.

Thinking about Fenris lamenting to her reminded her how commonplace that sort of thing was becoming since she'd been back. Once Aveline had gotten past her initial anger at Misery for killing DuPuis and at the rogue's unwillingness to explain her specific actions, she opened up to Misery about feeling somewhat lost, about not finding fulfillment in her duty and wondering if she was finally ready to move past Wesley.

Then there was Merrill, who had spoken at length about her various problems a couple of times already. To Misery is was plain to see that the elf's problems all stemmed from her obsession with that eluvian, but as far as she was concerned at least Merrill had been attempting to do something about it on her own. In that regard the elf had earned more respect from her than Fenris, Aveline, Anders, and Isabela, all of whom were more apt to complain about their situations yet do nothing about them.

Misery didn't know what to make of Isabela. The Rivaini's situation hadn't changed at all in the nearly four years since they'd met. She was still searching for the relic, though Misery wasn't sure how much searching was getting done with her ass anchored to a barstool day after day. Did that Castillon fellow really think she was still getting that relic for him after all the time that had elapsed?

And the boat. Isabela claimed she was stuck in Kirkwall because her ship had run aground during a storm. Yet Misery didn't see Isabela making any effort to obtain another ship, and it wasn't like she couldn't leave Kirkwall without her own ship. Misery had been all over northern Thedas, even as far as Isabela's homeland, without owning her own ship. There had to be more going on than met the eye, though she didn't care enough to actually ask Isabela what was going on.

More generally, Misery wondered what made others want to dump their problems on her. Was she more convenient than going to the Chantry and confessing to a mother? Did they mistake her quiet nature in social group situations for being a good listener?

While she was usually more content to listen and observe than participate in a group conversation, that was rarely driven by any particular interest in listening to others. Her motivations typically ranged from not being interested enough to engage herself, to simply not having anything of value to contribute, to the practical matter of social conditioning. The latter was especially difficult to overcome.

For as much as she'd opened up to Varric, he remained the exception. She was still fiercely protective of herself with others, and still believed that the more one spoke, the more likely they were to unintentionally reveal information that could be used against them later. And the other side of the coin was that the more one spoke, the less likely they were to catch details revealed by others. She was glad Varric was the type that she swore at times spoke just to hear his own voice, because she was anything but that. He relieved her of the social burden in group settings.

However, it was more than Fenris and the others speaking with her as if she was supposed to be some sort of counselor that left her feeling mentally tired. It had been a week since DuPuis, long enough that the fervor around Hightown over a minor noble being murdered in his own manor had mostly died down, though not so long that Misery wasn't reminded of it in one way or another on a daily basis. Sometimes it was overhearing people continuing to speculate and swap rumors about what the reclusive DuPuis might have been involved with that resulted in his murder. Sometimes it was her own thoughts going back to that night.

Misery had no regrets over killing DuPuis, but part of her was still troubled. Sure, she'd killed many over the years. Sometimes in brutal fashion, sometimes in an emotionally charged state, but very rarely did passion drive brutality. And killing was almost never personal. However, with DuPuis that combination formed a toxic mix for blind rage, and brought about a loss of control that culminated in a deeply personal brutality unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She hated the feeling it left in its wake, the nagging unease with herself.

Varric had kept her busy since then, though she suspected that had more to do with distracting her from Bartrand than anything else. Merrill had been present more days than not as well, causing Varric to tease Misery about being able to get the pale elf a regular amount of sunlight when no one else could. But today Varric was busy with other things and Merrill was working on her eluvian.

Not really having a sense of purpose after leaving Fenris, Misery wandered aimlessly with Revas until her feet returned her to her estate almost of their own accord. She and Revas were barely through the foyer into the main living room when Sandal jumped out and tackled Revas.

The mabari rolled with the momentum, using his powerful haunches to pull free. He pounced on the dwarven boy, pinning him to the floor on his back.

"Woof!" Sandal shouted in glee.

Revas woofed back and licked his face, making Sandal laugh. Misery shook her head and kept walking as those two continued to playfully woof back and forth at each other.

Leandra came out of the study at the noise. "Oh, Mireille! Come upstairs, I have something for you."

Misery raised an eyebrow curiously but followed. When they reached her room, she immediately noticed a formal gown on her armor rack. She glanced over at her mother, silently posing the question with her expression.

"Tomorrow night the de Launcet's are holding a birthday celebration for Dulci. We have been invited and shall attend."

Misery groaned, drawing a disapproving glare.

"A seamstress will be by tomorrow morning to make any necessary adjustments," Leandra continued, "so you will need to be here then."

"I thought seeing the de Launcets made you feel awkward?"

Leandra sighed lightly. Simple everyday occurrences like this were ongoing reminders that her daughter still had much catching up to do.

"Much has changed since we regained our home and standing. Guillaume and Dulci were naturally suspicious of my intentions when I first visited with them shortly after we had arrived in Kirkwall. Dulci knew our history and assumed that with Malcolm gone I would try to get my hooks back into her husband. When I had told him of our situation, Guillaume assumed I was looking for a handout. I happened to see them at a few social events after moving back here, and things became friendlier as they came to realize I no interest in their wealth or in revisiting what might have been with Guillaume. And it turned out we have much in common. Their son Emil is a mage at the Kirkwall Circle."

Leandra smirked and continued, "Dulci is the perfectwoman for Guillaume. Keep that in mind when you meet her and you will understand why I eloped with your father. Nevertheless, they are friends and I expect you to be respectful and courteous tomorrow night."

"Yes, Mother…" Misery answered in resignation. "I assume I will be asked about my time away. Is there a particular story I need to be aware of in order not to contradict what you've told people?"

"I am not ashamed of you, Love, if that is what you're implying. I have simply told others that you were attending to matters concerning family and business. You are free to expound on that however you choose, though I pray you do so in a way that doesn't needlessly embarrass us. It is also common knowledge that Bethany is a Grey Warden."

Misery nodded slowly. "I see… thank you. I apologize."

"Yes, well you can demonstrate the sincerity of that by not arguing with me over your escort for tomorrow night."

"Escort?"

Leandra straightened her back, assuming that authoritative posture that Misery knew full well meant she wasn't getting a say in whatever she was about to be told.

"Yes, I have arranged for a charming young man to accompany you, a gentleman I met while visiting an old friend at the Chantry. Perhaps, if all goes well, he will even begin courting you."

"You did what? You can't be serious!"

"Mireille Louise Hawke, you are twenty-eight years old. The window for you to marry and have a family is closing. My patience with waiting on you to meet someone on your own has reached its end. Therefore, I will find a suitable mate for you."

Misery rubbed her temples. Mother addressing her by her full given name was a tell-tale sign that she was ready to enforce her will if necessary.

"Will you at least permit me to choose my own escort?"

Leandra raised an eyebrow curiously. "Oh? You already have someone in mind? The de Launcet party is tomorrow night after all."

"I… I don't know… perhaps Varric would accompany me."

"To what end? Having a potential suitor is the point of this, and surely you would not be seriously considering a dwarf."

"I'm not seriously considering anyone, but I've seen too much of the good and bad of everyone the world over to automatically rule someone out on account of their race."

Misery doubted those words would resonate even while speaking them. Her mother was no different than the vast majority of people in Thedas, where the prevailing custom was that you married within your own race, nationality, and social class. And while dwarves didn't suffer the same type of disdain in human dominated society as elves, human/dwarf pairings were very far from common and would still be borderline scandalous – both humans and dwarves would look down on it.

It was that ingrained, unconscious status quo that had kept Misery from ever considering that her feelings for Varric had become more than those of simply a close friend. And it was also why she'd never taken Bethany's suggestion that Varric was interested in more than friendship from her seriously.

"Mireille… he might be a good friend, but even if he was not a dwarf, from what Aveline has said of him, he is hardly suitable for a noblewoman to marry. On the other hand, the gentleman I have arranged for you to meet is of the royal family of Starkhaven. I only know a little about him, but apparently he shares your love of archery as well."

Leandra reached over and gently stroked her daughter's cheek, the soothing action seeking to wipe away the scowl from her face.

"Will you do this for me, Love? Allow Prince Vael to escort you to the party, and give him a fair chance to win your heart?"

Misery sighed. She knew that despite the phrasing, her mother wasn't asking. And she also knew her resistance was mostly from having this thrust upon her, as other than the loose end of Bartrand to tie up she had no real reason not to at least begin considering that part of her life.

"Very well…" she finally replied, sighing again in resignation. "I will play the dutiful daughter. However, I will not have an arranged marriage forced upon me. If I marry, it will be for love, social standing be damned. You know… just as you did."

"Ahhh… I suppose I do rather sound like my mother…" Leandra admitted. "I want what is best for you, but if you promise to cooperate with me on this issue, I will promise to leave the final decision to you. Can we agree on that much?"

Misery nodded slowly in agreement. She still didn't like it, but it was probably the most compromise she'd get at this point. Social mores being what they were, it was not only acceptable for parents to arrange a child's marriage, it was often expected – especially in the upper classes. That Misery didn't see herself as nobility didn't change the reality of her station. And being a fiercely independent grown woman didn't change the reality that she was wired to respect and honor her parents whether she liked it or not.

She knew her mother had given her much more leeway to chart her own course over the years than most children were, and that Mother had been growing increasingly impatient over her lack of progress on the marriage front. So she was actually rather surprised that Mother hadn't forced the issue before now. But even with that knowledge, she suspected the impetus now was as much about keeping her in Kirkwall as it was actually getting her married off.

On the heels of her suspicions about Varric doing the same, her conspiracy theory warning bells were going off loudly again. Not a conspiracy in the sense that Varric was involved in Mother's plot and vice versa, but rather a more general collusion where they were finding their own separate ways to accomplish the shared goal of keeping her from leaving again in pursuit of Bartrand. She'd play their game and not let them know she was on to their scheme, but if the opportunity afforded itself she'd bolt in a heartbeat.

After her mother left the room, Misery frowned at the slight tug of guilt she felt when the thought of Varric crept to the forefront of her mind. The urge to hide this from him was competing just as strongly with the urge to go lament to him. She wasn't sure why the situation felt wrong to her. She just knew it did. Even more confusing was the realization that she wanted Varric to be upset about it. She wasn't sure what to make of that, nor did she know what she wanted him to do in response.

-==0==-

Misery glanced up from the letter she was writing to Bethany to see Aveline storming into the study.

"You're coming with me," the guard-captain blurted without preamble.

"Excuse me?"

"A very unhappy Viscount Dumar sent me specifically to retrieve you. What have you done to garner his attention?"

Misery stared back curiously. "Unless you named me as the one who killed the blood mage and it has something to do with that, I have no idea. What did he say?"

"He didn't… I asked if you were in trouble, but he would only say that was between him and you. Hawke, the viscount doesn't invite citizens to his office for tea. Whatever he wants with you must be serious."

"And naturally you assume the worst of me."

"Put yourself in my boots. What would you think?"

Misery stood. "Believe what you will, but I've done nothing since my return to warrant negative attention from the viscount."

"I sincerely hope that's true."

"Aveline, I have never lied to you. Let you believe a false conclusion you'd already arrived at or withheld information, sure… But never lied. If I tell you I've done nothing, I've done nothing. At least nothing I'm actually aware of."

Aveline sighed, letting the tension drain from her expression. "Fair enough… you have my apologies. Come on then, let's go."

"Can I at least change first?"

Aveline smirked as she looked the other woman over. Misery was dressed casually in a dark blue ankle length dress with sleeves that tied off just below the elbows. It was a commonly seen style for Hightown women, a style no one would think twice about wearing in public. No one except Misery apparently.

"Maker's breath, Hawke," Aveline answered, chiding her playfully. "You don't need to get armed and armored to walk the short distance down Viscount's Way with me. If it makes you that nervous, I'll walk you home afterwards."

Misery grumbled but acquiesced after retrieving a pair of knee length leather boots with knife sheaths sewn into the sides.

-==0==-

Aveline and Misery entered Dumar's office to find him and the seneschal engaged in conversation.

"The compound was not meant to be permanent," Bran continued after using only his eyes to acknowledge the presence of visitors. "There are concerns the Qunari influence is… no longer contained."

"Was it ever?" Dumar replied, sighing in exasperation before standing and beginning to pace. "These Qunari sit like gargoyles waiting for Maker knows what, and everyone goes mad around them. As if the tension between templars and mages was not enough cause for concern. Nearly four years I have stood between fanatics…"

He scowled while gesturing towards something on his desk. "And now this."

Aveline gestured to her companion. "Misery Hawke, your Excellency. As you requested."

Dumar nodded. "Bran, Captain, you may leave us."

Both the seneschal and guard-captain looked like they wanted to protest. However, neither did, instead filing out in silence. Once they did, Dumar turned his attention to Misery.

"Meredith at my throat, Orsino at my heels, and the city scared of heretical giants," he began. "Balance has held because the Qunari ask for nothing. Even the space in Lowtown was a 'gift' to contain them."

Misery eyed him curiously. "Surely you didn't summon me here in order to brief me on civic affairs?"

Dumar scoffed. "It is most curious, Serah Hawke. The Arishok has requested you. By name. Tell me why he would do so."

"I have no idea. I met him once, years ago, right around the time I rescued Saemus if I remember correctly."

"Yes, I remember how you helped my son. It seems you are meant to have influence above your station. Now I need you to speak to the Arishok. Give him what he needs to keep the peace. Will you do that for Kirkwall, Serah Hawke?"

Misery sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Did he give any indication at all as to what he wants?"

"None. And if you think his asking me to notify you of this is strange, well… you would be right. But I have no interest in antagonizing the Arishok, which is partially why I suffer being reduced to a messenger today."

"You fear they will attack?"

Dumar closed his eyes briefly. "A treaty exists, and it has been honored thus far. I suspect if they came to conquer they would have already done so. Although… they claim they're waiting for a ship to be sent from Par Vollen, yet it's been three years. Clearly there is no rescue coming. They want something else. But they've shown no inclination to tell anyone what exactly that is. Perhaps the Arishok will tell you. Regardless, I need you to appease him. For all our sakes."

Misery resisted the urge to laugh at how preposterous this entire situation was. To listen to Dumar, the fate of the city was in her decidedly non-diplomatic hands. She couldn't wait to see Varric's reaction when she told him.

She nodded. "I will go speak with him."

"I wish you well. Good day, Serah."

Exiting the viscount's office, Misery wasn't remotely surprised to see Aveline was waiting. She smirked at the guard-captain as she walked past her without saying anything.

"Well?" Aveline asked impatiently as she fell in stride with her.

"Dumar asked me to go speak with the Arishok on behalf of Kirkwall. Look at me, a diplomat."

"Yeah, whatever. If you're not going to tell me, at least don't insult my intelligence with that nonsense."

Misery shrugged. "Go ask him yourself then. Or come with me to the Qunari compound and see."

Aveline stopped and grabbed Misery's arm. She quickly searched her expression. "Wait… you're serious?" she asked, the astonishment in her tone more than obvious.

When Misery merely nodded while continuing to grin smugly, Aveline shook her head. "Why would he send you of all people? No offense, Misery, but you're much more apt to let your blades do the talking. I don't mean that as an insult, it's just who you are."

"Apparently the Arishok has requested me by name." Her expression turned more serious. "Honestly, I have no idea what the Arishok wants from me. I'm not sure why he would even remember me from one brief encounter years ago. I don't even remember actually giving him my name."

"It's been said that the Arishok has eyes and ears everywhere in the city. This makes me start to believe it. Whatever you did must have left an impression on him… I guess we'll find out if that's for better or for worse."

"So you are coming along then?"

"Damned right I am," Aveline answered.

"Well, I'm planning to go tomorrow morning after the seamstress is done poking and prodding me. I can come get you afterward. That is, assuming you didn't want come over and laugh at my expense while I suffer through the fitting."

"I'll go there. I can visit with Leandra if I have to wait on you. So don't leave without me, alright?"

"Why do I get the feeling you don't trust me to take care of this business with the Arishok?"

"I know you get things done. It's your methods that frighten me. Sometimes it feels like you are the center of a hurricane, eerily calm while destruction swirls all around you. And the mark you leave lingers long after you have moved on."

Misery shook her head slightly. "Why don't you tell me how you really feel about me?"

"You know I'm not going to blow smoke up your ass," Aveline answered unapologetically. "And I know you wouldn't want me to. Look, when I first met you the only thing you gave a damn about was your family. Gradually that expanded to include a handful of friends. I just think if you expanded that and cared about the whole city… you know, your home… there's no telling what you could accomplish. You could change the world if you put your mind to it. I mean that."

Misery sighed. "Right… because clearly I've been so successful at taking care of my family and friends that I should turn my attention to the well-being of thousands."

Without waiting for a reply she turned and resumed walking towards the exit.

-==0==-

"You are Hawke," a gravelly voice stated as Misery and company approached the Qunari compound.

Misery glanced to her left to see a Qunari warrior standing at attention. She hid her surprise at being recognized on sight and merely returned a nod in acknowledgment as her reply.

"A patrol went missing along the Wounded Coast," the man continued. "The Arishok says you have some semblance of honor. So tell me, did you kill them?"

This time Misery did show her surprise, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "How is it you suggest I have honor out of one side of your mouth, only to turn around and question if I randomly kill your people out the other side?"

She couldn't get a read on the stoic warrior's reaction because the helm he wore covered his face. But after a brief pause he answered, "Few are capable of doing so. Some believe you are one of those few. That is why I ask."

"Be that as it may, I have no quarrel with the Qunari and it has been the better part of two years since I've set foot on the Wounded Coast. I don't know what happened to your patrol."

That seemed to satisfy the warrior. "I believe you." He turned away, indicating the conversation was over.

Misery glanced over at Varric, who merely shrugged, then to Aveline and Fenris. The guard-captain appeared slightly on edge about the situation. Misery guessed that this encounter caused Aveline to question again if the Arishok had called her here over something she'd done. Fenris' expression was blank, which Misery supposed was an improvement over the semi-permanent scowl he typically wore.

She'd felt uncomfortable going back to the elf's estate and asking for his help so soon after her first visit. However, her pragmatism won out. Fenris was much more familiar with Qunari culture than she was, and the Arishok had commented favorably on his presence when they previously met. So Misery figured his presence this time could only help, particularly if she actually was in trouble with the Arishok for some reason. Having a Qunari warrior identify her and question her in regards to a missing patrol only reinforced to her that she'd made the right decision in asking Fenris along.

As they neared the gate to the compound, one of the Qunari guards stepped forward, prepared to stop the unwelcome visitors. However, his aggressive posture relaxed as recognition took hold.

"Hawke," he said. "All are forbidden. Except you… for now." The last of his words carried more than a hint of warning.

"What of my companions?" Misery asked. "Are they permitted to accompany me?"

"Yes," the guard answered, pausing before adding, "Their actions are your actions. You will be held accountable for them."

Misery smirked and turned to the others. "Did you hear that? Everyone play nice or else this doesn't end well for me. Hmm… that could just as easily be incentive for you all not to play nice, couldn't it? Perhaps I should go alone."

Varric returned the smirk. "Perhaps I should get Daisy to tattoo 'I have your back' on my forehead so you'll get the hint."

"Your forehead certainly has enough space for all the words," Aveline remarked dryly. "And grows larger with each passing year."

"Ouch…" Varric grumbled, pretending to be offended. "Commenting on a man's hairline is definitely not 'playing nice'."

Fenris sighed in exasperation. "Perhaps we should stop wasting their time."

Misery nodded. "Agreed. Let's go."

-==0==-

The Arishok was already sitting on his makeshift throne as Misery and the others approached.

"Serah Hawke," he said while leaning forward as if to get a better look. "Last we met, I did not know your name. Did not care to."

Misery remained silent, nodding in acknowledgment for him to continue.

"You have changed your fortune over the years. The Qunari have not. I offer a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok. You will want to hunt him."

She wanted to question how he apparently knew so much about her, but recognized this wasn't a social visit and that at least for now she should stay on topic.

"I… what is gaatlok and why would I care?"

"The explosive powder you once came here regarding. The stolen formula was a decoy. Saar-qamek – a poison gas, not explosives. A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind. But if made in quantity, perhaps by someone intending to sell it… would he be cautious? Or would he assume success and make enough to threaten an entire district? An entire city? As I said, a courtesy, Hawke. You will want to hunt him."

Varric shook his head. "Sad to say, but Tintop is very much the type of do something really stupid like this."

"His crime seems obvious," the Arishok said. "I would not wait."

Misery shook her head as well, except in bewilderment. "Why would you give this to me to deal with? Shouldn't this be the City Guard's problem?"

"Yes," Aveline answered, her eyes narrowing in annoyance.

The Arishok waved a hand dismissively. "You, Hawke, are capable. I cannot say the same for your Guard. I have yet to decide, however, if you are capable of… understanding. Save your streets from this fool dwarf. Then we will talk."

Aveline bristled visibly at the insult directed her way, but opted not to verbally protest his accusation. Instead she asked, "Arishok, is this poison gas not a threat to your people too?"

"No," he answered, maintaining eye contact with Misery, as if the guard-captain wasn't worthy of speaking directly to. "It is no threat to Qunari. For your kind it is as dangerous as those who breathe it. The gas kills… eventually. But first it clouds the mind and turns allies against each other in a blind rage. So, the greater the skill of those sent against us, the greater the threat they become to their own people."

Varric whistled low. "Pretty damned brilliant if you ask me."

Misery nodded at him before turning back to the Arishok. "Do you have an idea of where Tinhead might have gone?"

"You should determine that for yourself. It is not my concern."

"He'd have needed serious help to pull off something like this." Varric said, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "We'll check with the Carta and maybe the Coterie."

"Alright then," she replied. "Thank you, Arishok. I will look into it."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "Panahedan, Hawke. It will be interesting to see if you die."

Misery couldn't suppress the grin that formed at that parting comment. She didn't know why, but she rather liked his dry wit.

-==0==-

"Who does he think he is?" Aveline exclaimed in anger once they were out of earshot of the compound.

Varric shrugged. "Apparently someone about as impressed with the Guard's 'appearance of force' as I am."

"That's not fair, Varric."

He shrugged again, his expression unapologetic. "All I'm saying is that if I wanted something important done, Misery would be my first, second, and third choice too. She's relentless to a fault and not hamstrung by petty political bullshit."

"It makes no sense for the Arishok to know anything about me," Misery said, choosing to leave Varric's remarks alone. "Did he have me watched after that incident with Tinhead a few years ago? And if he knows that much about me, what makes him think I actually care what Tinhead does with the saar-qamek formula?"

Varric rubbed his chin. "He said he was undecided on whether or not you're capable of understanding, whatever that means. I'd say he's testing you, but I don't know why."

"Great… I get to waste my time running an errand while he sits back and judges it?"

Aveline's scowl deepened. "Waste your time? So you don't care if that stupid dwarf sends the city hurtling into chaos?"

"Why should I? That's your problem. The only reason I'm going to bother with this is because I agreed to Dumar's request to appease the Arishok, and to do so means hunting Tinhead like he told me to. And before you look down your nose at me, don't forget how quickly you agreed when I asked the Arishok why he requested me instead of you."

"It is the Guard's responsibility! Are you even going to investigate? Or are you going to just go take out Tintop and wash your hands of it?"

Misery's eyes narrowed as her temper began to ignite. "You want to resent me for doing what you can't or won't do, fine. But you don't get to use me to do your dirty work and then turn around and chastise me or worse when I do it for someone other than you!"

"The Emeric job wasn't supposed to be dirty work!" Aveline hissed.

"Was it my fault I was attacked by demons the moment I entered the estate? And there was evidence all over his place that he was a blood mage and involved in illegal stuff, not to mention he had a woman held captive that fit the profile of the other missing women! What the fuck did you and your people actually investigate that you couldn't discover what I turned up in under an hour?"

"I'm not having this argument, Hawke. I'll just say it's a lot easier when you get to focus on one thing at a time rather than fifty."

Misery shook her head. "Something either matters or it doesn't. If it doesn't, you don't bother with it. If it does, you put the effort into dealing with it. If you don't have the resources to deal with what matters, you figure out how to get them!"

"Must be nice to live in a world that black and white!"

"And yet you are the one always telling me there aren't supposed to be shades of gray when it comes to the law!"

Fenris sighed in exasperation. "Is there a plan here, or will you two simply shout at each other for the amusement of the crowd you are gathering?"

The two women glanced around to realize Fenris was right about their bickering creating a scene. Before either could speak, however, Varric cleared his throat.

"Meet at Hawke's in the morning for breakfast," he said. "I should have some leads to follow up on by then."

"Fine…" Aveline muttered and then left immediately. Fenris nodded and went his own way as well.

"So…" Varric began after he and Misery had walked a short distance in the direction of The Hanged Man. "I could use a drink after that. How about I buy you one too?"

Misery looked up to the sky. Even through the smog of Lowtown she could tell it was mid-afternoon already.

"I'll have to pass, unfortunately. I need to go prepare for a fancy party Mother is dragging me to."

Varric laughed. "I'd say 'this I gotta see', but that sour expression makes me think you'll punch me if I do."

"I don't care. I'd have invited you to suffer through Orlesian pomp and circumstance with me, but Mother had other ideas."

"Oh?"

Misery sighed and waved a hand. "Forget it… it's nothing."

Varric stared at her curiously for a moment, wondering what was behind the expression that seemed to be contradicting her dismissive words. But he also knew it was pointless to pry. Once she decided she didn't want to talk about something she hardly ever changed her mind right away. So he left her to her thoughts, walking her to the Great Stairs before parting ways.

However, despite his joking delivery earlier, the chance to see Misery dressed to the nines was an irresistible urge. His mind was already working on a plausible excuse to conveniently stop by her estate before she and her mother left.

-==0==-

"My lady? Your guest has arrived," Bodahn said after knocking on her door.

Misery sighed deeply, exhaling slowly in an attempt to push her anxiety away. Preparing for a formal party reminded her that she hadn't been to such an event since DuPuis', and while she knew it made little sense to still dwell on that, especially after having finally killed him, the thoughts came to mind anyway. She was beginning to realize that moving past the assault wasn't as simple as completing her revenge.

Coaching a polite smile on to her face, she exited the room and went downstairs to meet this Prince Vael her Mother arranged to accompany her.

"You must be Mireille," the man said as she approached.

"Misery," she immediately corrected. "Do not call me Mireille."

His eyes opened wide and then went distant as he wondered why that name seemed familiar.

"Misery…" he said slowly, as if sounding out the name would jog his memory. "Forgive me. I am Sebastian Vael. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

He reached out and took her right hand in his before blinking in surprise and staring at the hand encased within an elbow length glove. He blushed upon realizing his faux pas, which drew a smirk from her.

"I left the rest of it in the Deep Roads."

"The Deep Roads?" he asked in obvious astonishment. "You are an adventurer?"

"At times."

She thought he looked vaguely familiar, but after he gave his first name it finally clicked.

"Sometimes I take on work people can't or won't do themselves, such as, oh, getting rid of mercenaries someone posted a bounty on."

Sebastian's mouth dropped open in shock as he suddenly realized where he knew her from. "You! Of course! Misery Hawke… now I remember."

Just then Leandra came into the room. "Ahhh, Sebastian. I see you have met-"

"Misery," her daughter finished. Leandra flashed a glare of disapproval but Misery didn't back off.

"Mother, to the rest of Kirkwall I am Misery Hawke. Please don't confuse the issue with a name I haven't gone by in years, since Ferelden."

Sebastian coughed uncomfortably as mother and daughter continued a silent battle of wills.

"Y-yes, well…" he began. "It so turns out that we have previously met. Your daughter… answered a posting I'd made on the Chanter's Board a few years ago to… erm… subjugate a group of mercenaries that murdered my family."

Misery burst out laughing. "Mother, he means to say I killed a bunch of people on his behalf, and then he paid me for it."

Leandra's expression turned to one of mortification. "Maker's breath…" she whispered.

"Ummm… shall we go?" Sebastian asked.

Just then there was a knock at the front door.

"Are we expecting anyone else?" Misery asked her mother, who shook her head.

Bodahn answered the door, and the grin of amusement Misery had been wearing from the delightfully awkward situation was wiped clean by Varric sauntering into the room.

"V-varric?" she asked softly.

The dwarf's eyes flicked back and forth between Misery, Sebastian, and Leandra before settling back on Misery. He quickly realized what was going on and felt a knot forming in his stomach.

"You look great…" he said, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I…ummm… am here for the pup. You know… boys night out and all. Revas, you ready to go play cards with Fenris and Blondie?"

Revas barked and got up from his spot next to the fireplace.

Sebastian looked confused. "Your dog plays cards?"

"Excuse me for one moment, please," Misery said, striding towards Varric. She grabbed his arm and tugged him out into the foyer.

"Why did you really come here?" she asked in a quiet, stern tone.

"Just thought the pup could use a night on the town with the fellows while you were at your party."

Misery eyed him skeptically. "That's the only reason?"

"It's not like I knew about your date. So I wasn't trying to interrupt anything if that's what you're asking. You really do look great, by the way. Sunshine was right about how well you clean up."

He was fighting to keep his emotions from becoming visible, and knew he needed to extract himself from here before they led him to say something he wouldn't be able to undo. And he had no intention of ruining her night by transferring his hurt on to her.

"Varric…"

He waved his hand. "You need to go. He's waiting on you. I won't disturb you when I bring Revas back later. Come on, boy."

Misery frowned. "Don't be like-"

"Stop, alright?" Varric said, interrupting her. "You didn't want to tell me earlier and you don't owe me an explanation now. I'll see you in the morning about the Tintop job."

He turned and left with Revas, leaving Misery to reluctantly return to her mother and Sebastian.

AN: Thank you again to xseikax for her helpful beta work. I appreciate it!