Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, m'dears. I had a bit of a Hallowe'en catch-up to do on a costume. Next week's chapter should be up on Monday, as usual. Thanks, as always, to mille libri for beta duties, though all mistakes are mine.

Steal Away Home: Chapter 9


It hadn't taken long to organize the transfer of quarters from the Siren's Call to the palace. At least not once the footmen arrived with their handcarts. Sebastian had to smile a little at Aeryn's disconcerted expression before she tucked it away to begin ordering the rearrangement of their trunks and packs. Her little household in Kirkwall was no great organization compared to the resources of a palace.

That she'd considered herself spoiled by Bodahn and Orana boggled his mind, really. He could imagine spoiling her properly, though...if she'd ever allow it.

Sebastian listened to Aeryn's low voice as she spoke to Macie. "We are guests of the king. There will be no pick-pocketing or swiping on the palace grounds. It's disrespectful, got me?"

"What's the point of being your apprentice if I don't learn..."

"You'll learn when to steal and when not to. It's just as important. I'm not saying that everyone who walks into the palace is off-limits, I'm just saying you aren't to do anything that would insult King Alistair. Nobles are usually the best targets...but being noble doesn't mean you're rich. And it's best to keep your thefts to those that won't affect another unduly." Aeryn smiled up at Sebastian and, slightly distracted, he was startled when her hand popped up, holding a feather from one of his pockets.

"Aeryn!" He snagged it back, with a shake of his head as she smirked and Macie giggled.

"Think about it...take something from someone who doesn't have much and it's like to be a treasure. They'll notice if it's gone. You want to stick to things that won't be noticed right away. A rich man usually can't recall if he had eight sovereigns in his pocket or ten. A poor one knows down to the last bent copper what he's got in his pockets. And he'll hunt you down for it."

"I guess." Despite the bored expression, Sebastian could tell from the bright eyes that the girl was absorbing what Aeryn was saying. He was...uncomfortable, he supposed, that Aeryn was openly teaching Macie how to improve her thievery. But it had been his idea to bring the girl along. It shouldn't surprise him that Aeryn was passing along trade secrets.

"Stick to us. If you can pick Isabela's pockets or Varric's, that's a pretty good clue that you're improving. You can't keep those things, though. And don't steal from Merrill at all. Or Fenris, he doesn't like it and it's not particularly safe to startle him. And sometimes he carries fish hooks." She gave sort of a reminiscing little smile

Macie snorted and then tipped her head, curiously. "Can I tag you?"

"Pup, if you can pick my pocket without me knowing, you're welcome to what you come by. Except the poison, give that back. It's not all labeled right. And don't put anything you pull from my pouches in your mouth to hide it. Isabela's, neither."

"Why?"

"Because we both coat our coin with spider venom." Sebastian coughed, covering a chuckle at Macie's comically startled face and Aeryn shot him a wink. "Teaches people not to doubt our word that our coin's good."

They entered the bustling market square and the girl's eyes went wide. Aeryn hid her grin a little better than Sebastian managed, but it didn't matter. Macie was too busy ogling. "Is it always like this here?" Her head jerked around like a puppet on a string as she tried to see everything at once.

"Oh, I doubt it. It's the queen's name day, so, I expect the revelry is mostly on account of that." They stopped for a moment to watch a group of Morris dancers doing a rhythmic step dance, bells jangling cheerfully on their legs. Merrill and Bethany drifted over to an open air stall to check out the staves, notably different in style than what was popular in the Free Marches. It had always boggled Aeryn that such magical tools were openly sold, because, really who needed them besides mages? But at least, now, it was a reasonable thing to do in Ferelden with the king's protection. Fenris followed Isabela into the tavern to deliver Varric's things and, like as not, to indulge in a bit of refreshment.

Aeryn let her eyes drift over the square, as Sebastian was keeping his sharp gaze on Macie. A sign swaying in the breeze caught her notice, Master Wade's Emporium. Wade was the name of the armorer Meridan had called an artist. Wonder if that's the fellow? Sebastian and Macie seemed caught up in the performance, so Aeryn took a moment to look.

Slipping between wandering townsfolk and walking closer to the shop, she could catch the acrid scent of tanning and dye, the nose searing tang of hot metal. It did seem likely. She stepped up onto the wooden boardwalk.

Sebastian felt more than saw Aeryn leave, the sudden absence like a cool chill at his side. He glanced up and saw her gleaming hair disappear into a shop.

He caught a passing carter and purchased three strawberry ices in orange halves. Then, after corralling Macie, he delivered his treats to Merrill and Bethany who took them with delight. Sebastian waved off Macie's attempt to pay him back with an outward smile and inwardly considering. The afternoon had turned warm with that golden glow that an autumn sun could take on and the ices were welcome. Then he went after his errant lass with a promise to catch them up.

He found her looking skeptically at a balding middle aged man who was complaining that the lack of flame stitching on the shoulders of her jerkin rendered the garment into obsolescence so dire that it made him faint to contemplate the results. "Aeryn, I swear I'm going to bell you. Could you not at least mention that you're…"

Another man, taller and with a strident braying voice, welcomed him to the shop. "Welcome to Wade's Emporium..." But the balding man broke in excitedly.

"Oh, please tell me he's the one you came in looking to re-fit. That armor is to die for...meaning who ever made it should die. Horribly." Aeryn was left to watch in amusement as Wade circled Sebastian with a critical eye. "Herren, clear my schedule."

"Wade..."

Aeryn laid a hand on Herren's arm and smiled, charmingly. "I'm sure Prince Vael would be happy to mention the Emporium and Master Wade's skill whenever the armor was admired. And, of course, if there's a slight expediting fee, we would understand."

Herren's eyebrows slid up his forehead. "Prince...well, perhaps priorities could be re-arranged."

Wielding his tape measure about Sebastian's inseam, Wade chattered on as Aeryn spoke quietly with Herren at the counter. "And you're an archer? Really, whoever designed this must have wanted you dead."

"My father had it made for me. Modeled on the lines of our...the archer corps of Starkhaven."

"Well, I can see where they were going...but, how impractical. No, now look...if I..." Master Wade rattled off a series of technical sounding terms, drawing alterations with a blue chalk pencil on the formerly pristine armor, while making Sebastian simulate his various draws and frequent movements. It probably wasn't particularly necessary for him to strip down to his smalls, but he blushed a little at Aeryn's poorly hidden smile as he followed Wade to the back of the shop.

If she wanted him to be properly kitted out, as she said, he'd do it. Despite whatever indignities might come along. Sebastian resisted the urge to smack the craftsman's hand as it drifted a little. But he'd repay the favor.

"Did I hear you say that Lady Hawke's armor was inadequate?" He couldn't help a wicked smile when Wade went off on a rant about wyvern hide and its irregularities. Sauce for the goose, then. It wasn't like he couldn't recite Aeryn's measurements quite easily.

They were both a little discombobulated when they exited the shop a half hour later, still tidying themselves and re-latching straps. Looking about, they spotted Isabela and Fenris as the two critically watched a display of knife throwing.

"You two look like you found a handy back alley." Isabela smirked at them, chortling when Sebastian answered.

"No...just an armorer with roving hands."

Aeryn gave a prim little sniff, smoothing her sleeves. "Master Wade was a perfect gentleman."

"Maybe with you, leannan," Sebastian grumbled, and when Fenris gave his half smile, continued, "Yes, smile if you like. Aeryn promised to have you in there next, my friend."

"My armor is adequate." The smirk slipped to a frown as Fenris observed his old gear, eyeing down one arm, critically.

Aeryn flicked one of the spiked epaulets. "Your armor is ancient and the patches are showing. Coran didn't get that last upgrade soldered as cleanly as he could have."

The elf let his bangs cover his face. "It suits me, Hawke."

She touched the tip of her steel-toed boot to Fenris' foot, delicately and he shot her a glance from beneath his shock of white hair, with just a little smile. That was an old reminder of how far they'd come together. It had been the first way she'd shown him affection, when he couldn't bear to be touched. In a low voice, Aeryn continued, "I didn't say it wasn't well made. I just think...since we're here for a bit, you might like to try something new. What do you think, 'Bela?"

Shrugging, the pirate answered, "So long as it's still lovely and form-fitting, what do I care?" Aeryn trod on her foot as she moved to lead them towards where Merrill and Macie were watching a puppet show on the corner. "Oh, I suppose change is nice, too, though." Isabela rubbed her bruised foot against the back of her calf with a glare at her friend, who blinked innocently.

As an apology, Aeryn mentioned, "Trips to the tailors and the seamstresses tomorrow." That sent a spark of interest into the pirate's amber eyes and Aeryn grinned. Isabela did love clothes. Usually Aeryn's, but maybe she could be persuaded to buy some of her own, this time.

"I will await Sebastian's results, I think," Fenris decided and Aeryn shrugged. He'd suit himself, of course. But she'd not let up. It was high time Fenris wore something besides the armor Danarius had made. He'd finally taken to dressing down in tunics and leggings during more casual times aboard ship and she didn't intend to allow him to backslide.

They were met at the palace gate by the young page, Harry, who had attended them earlier. Brendan had arranged for Harry to run their errands and messages. "To generally be at your service, m'lady," he explained to Aeryn, studiously ignoring Macie's attempts to draw the older boy's attentions. "Except for mornings when I have study hall."

The boy led them to the western third floor and the companions found their gear already unpacked and ready in the various rooms. There was a large study lined with bookshelves and warmed by an enormous fireplace that could serve as a gathering area just off the landing from the stairwell leading down to the main hall. It was comfortably furnished, suiting the more casual company of rogues, mages and warriors that would use it than the general run of nobles. Or perhaps, that's just how most of the areas of the Fereldan palace were furnished, Sebastian wondered. None of the rooms in his father's palace would have been allowed to be quite so…casual. The tapestries hung to discourage the chill were of various hunting scenes and one of an archer kneeling beside a wounded griffon that made Sebastian smile nostalgically. It was a scene often depicted in Starkhaven; one of their archers, Connaut, who legendarily had joined the Grey Wardens that fought the third Blight.

Merrill seemed caught by the scene outside the broad sills of the windows. Most of the glass was gaily colored, to lend cheerfulness to the general grey days of long winters, but one span of clear beveled glass looked out over the aforementioned rose gardens.

Aeryn leaned over her shoulder. "What do you see, Kitten?"

"I…I'm not sure?" Her long slender finger, with its painted nail, traced the pattern of the rosebeds out on the glass. Two sets of four arching rows, crossing in the middle before a central tree. "It…looks like a Dalish pattern. But why would it be? I think I'm maybe just…missing them." She peered up at Aeryn out of the corner of her eye as the rogue tilted her head to see if she saw the same thing.

Shrugging, Aeryn shook her head. "I don't know, Merrill. I never got as familiar with Dalish customs as I meant to."

"Can we go down, do you think?"

"I think King Alistair gave us permission to roam the whole place, grounds included. I suppose if the gate's open, there's no problem."

"Would you come, too?"

"I can. We've a few hours yet before the dinner we've been invited to. Anyone else?"

Sebastian was amenable to strolling in a rose garden with Aeryn, so he came. Isabela and Fenris claimed to have other plans, but Bethany and Macie tagged along.

Harry, interrupted from the book he'd brought to occupy himself at his post, directed them to the entrance of the garden. "Just past the practice rings in the courtyard is the inner gate. There's another outside, just past Andraste's Rock, open to the public some days as it's a tribute to the Hero and the folk who died fighting the Blight."

"Oh." Merrill's eyes went soft and she ran, fleet-footed, down the staircase.

"Merrill, wait!" They jogged to catch up.

As they crossed the courtyard, they interrupted Alistair in the middle of his practice drills. The king, in full armor and sweating, dragged a linen towel across his face and hailed them as he sheathed his sword. "Leaving already, Hawke? Doesn't say much for my hospitality!"

"No, just doing a bit of reconnaissance, getting a feel for the territory. Thought we'd start with the garden." She smiled up at Sebastian, who took her hand. This would be a first for them, a quiet stroll in a garden.

Varric would be so pleased. "It's sodding hard to keep telling stories about your romantic walks amongst the dying shades and corpses, you know, Hawke. People will get the wrong idea about you," he'd grumbled once, not long ago.

"The rose garden? Mind if I come along? There are a couple of small monuments that won't be obvious if you aren't looking." The king's face was open, but his eyes were serious and Aeryn smiled at him, happy to include him.

"More the merrier, I'm sure." It gave her another chance to observe Alistair, too. Get to know him without being too obvious. A guard followed them, discreetly, but at a glance from Alistair, he turned and stood at the gate to await the king's return.

He moved like a warrior, still, evidence that the past years had not really allowed him to set his sword down too often. The plate had to be heavy, but he didn't clank and clang. Somewhere along the line, he'd managed to learn how to carry it as quietly as possible. The Hero and two of her companions had been rogues. Perhaps, that explained it, then. Aeryn had always complained about Aveline's plate on quiet runs.

Just past the Birth Rock shrine, a wooded glade separated the two open areas and a small meadow opened into the rose garden that lay beneath their windows. There were roses in beds laid in bow-like arcs. A few of the bushes, near the stone walls and right around the center, were still braving the chill and blooming in glorious crimson. And at the heart of the garden, a rowan tree bearing a full flush of orange berries on its spreading branches. The berries had drawn in the birds that would linger here on the coast during the winter, redbirds and sparrows and chickadees.

There were a few carved stones placed here and there along the winding path. In full summer leaf, the bushes and flowering plants would have obscured them, but the fading foliage didn't really hide them away. Alistair pointed them out, anyway, to Aeryn and Sebastian, strolling hand in hand next to him. The crushed rosy stone that made the path scrunched under their feet and they could hear birds and squirrels, all used to human company, continuing on in their chatter and busy work. Macie was touching plants as she walked, trailing a long stem of plantain, letting the different foliage leave their dusty green scents on her skin. Bethany refrained from telling her the various names, which Aeryn thought was best. The girl really hadn't shown any interest in herblore, which didn't bode well for any aptitude in poison.

They paused, finally, on the mossy path circling the tree. There was a low seat made of grey stone with a pale green veining, simple in line and carving, and it was here that the arching beds they saw from above were planted.

Merrill was trailing them, looking everywhere at once, following the line of the beds and finally kneeling at the base of the rowan to touch the bark reverently. Aeryn watched her, curiously. Merrill liked nature, but she wasn't a particularly...frolicky...elf.

Then, in a flurry of scarf and limbs, the blood mage flung her arms around a very startled king's neck.

"Oouf. Ah. Hello, there."

"She's here, isn't she?" Merrill's hazel eyes were huge and damp as she looked up into Alistair's confused face.

He blinked his own hazel eyes back at her, and just a touch of color crept over his cheekbones. "Oh. Well, um." A sheepish look warred with defiance. "Yes. They were going to burn her...carry her ashes to lay at Weisshaupt. It wasn't...We switched her and buried Lyna here. She...told me once, that's what the Dalish did. I couldn't get her to the forest, but...there was this grove, here, anyway. And I planted the rowan. The...garden came later. When I had a chance." The confession came haltingly as Alistair patted Merrill's back awkwardly with a gauntleted hand and sent Aeryn a pleading look as the elf cuddled him. Biting her lip, Aeryn drew her slim friend away. He looked bereft for just a second. "It...it was right, wasn't it?"

Merrill nodded, sniffling. "It's perfect. It's beautiful. Oh, thank you."

Alistair ran a hand over his cropped hair and down his face, and then looked up, composed and well-humored again. "Well. Nicer in summer when it's all in bloom. Though there's almost always roses here. Wynne says the stone wall keeps it warmer."

"Would you mind...oh, could I...there are a few things I could plant...that would make it..." Merrill spoke a few words in Elvish and then, "More right...I mean? Do you mind?"

"In the winter?"

"Not quite winter, yet. And they'll be just right to move now. I can find them, I think, Hawke, if you'll come?"

Aeryn nodded. "If it's alright with Alistair, Merrill. I'll help, of course."

Alistair looked out over the garden. Something quietly pained crossed his face and then he turned back to them. "Yes. Do...as you think is right, Merrill. You'd know, I guess. And, this was never meant to be...It should be as right as it can be." He bowed slightly. "I should...I should go. Excuse me, please." They watched the king stride quickly across the garden, head bowed. But he straightened and set his shoulders before he turned back down the allee to where the attendant manning the door could see him.

Aeryn watched him, an ache in her heart, and when Sebastian tugged her back against his tall, lean frame she went willingly, wanting to feel him alive and vital against her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her hair. "He grieves her, still, I think." His voice rumbled in her ear.

"I think you're right." Aeryn turned in his arms. "If it were me…left behind…I would, till..." Always. Forever. Until there was nothing left of me. And she wanted to make him promise, suddenly, but there were no promises that could account for ill-chance. Her fingers curled around the edges of his jerkin, not quite clinging.

Sebastian looked down, the blue blazing with emotion. "As would I, à ruin. Never doubt it." He bent his head to kiss her, hoping to chase away the sudden fear that crossed both of them.

Rather awkward to think I considered trysting in a graveyard, though. Aeryn pulled away slightly. "On the off chance, though that you do outlive me..."

"Aeryn..." Holy Beloved, he didn't want to think about such a thing.

"No, I just...please don't bury me under your bedroom window. It can'tbe healthy."

What? Sebastian saw the hint of sparkle in her eye and the wry little twist to her mouth and laughed, helplessly."That is terrible. Maker forgive you."

"I suppose He might if you have anything to say about it." She grinned, making light of it, but as Aeryn laid her forehead against his chest and he kissed the back of her head he wondered if some part of her meant exactly that.

- -000-

A maid had come and collected their finery, earlier, and when they returned to quarters, it was all laid out in their rooms, cleaned and pressed. A steaming bath waited in each dressing room as well and Aeryn stopped to wonder how much work that had involved.

"I dinna care, myself. I'll be glad to bathe without the saltwater stinging, thank you," Sebastian had replied.

"Well, there is that," she agreed and then had to chivvy him to his own bath so that she could bathefor once withoutmost of the water endingup on the floor. The maids had even found her almond soap in her trunk, Aeryn noted. She hoped they'd been careful in what they touched. Her trunks often held surprises for the unsuspecting.

After she'd bathed and, after two attempts, seen Macie as clean as the girl would stand, Aeryn set up a small test, with three of the less elaborately locked trunks placed in front of the fire while their hair dried and they had a small tea.

Sebastian grinned, recalling. He'd gotten the same run through, when he'd first joined up. He'd been truly dismayed (and then ashamed of his dismay) that his skills had decayed so desperately in his time as a priest, when once he'd prided himself on the fact that no lock in his father's keep was capable of keeping him out. Or had taken himthree triesto get the most complicated, with Aeryn sitting on the chaise in her study, one eyebrow arched incredulously, as Varric and Isabela snickered next to her.

In his own defense, his reward hadn't been dessert, either.

Macie got to the lemon tarts in the third trunk with quick ease. Aeryn, thankful to have finally found something Macie had an aptitude for, allowed her one before dinner, with a promise of the other two after.

Harry, who had been watching the proceedings with a sharp eye from his corner, spoke up then. "If she is finished with her…training, Lady Hawke, I could show Macie to the areas the other children of the palace gather. Unless you have further need of me before dinner?"

"Fine by me," Aeryn agreed. "If you'd like, pup."

Macie nodded from where she was sprawled on the hearth rug. "Yeah, I guess."

"Remember what I told you about respecting our host?"

"Yeah." Aeryn looked evenly at her until the girl bowed neatly and clarified. "Yes, ser."

"Alright then. Have fun."

Aeryn was pleased to see that Macie was generous…or shrewd…enough to share the tart with the page and they were munching companionably as they left.

Sebastian picked up his cup and moved from the armchair to drop to the floor at Aeryn's feet. He laid his head against her knee and she speared her fingers into his hair, letting the drying strands slide through. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the caress. "She seems to be settling, don't you think?"

"We'll see. I'm glad to know there are other children in the palace. I was wondering what she was going to do for mates…not much fun to be cooped up with grown-ups the live long day."

"Hard on the adults, too." Aeryn had slipped into one of her wrapped woolen housedresses and it left her knees bare. He pressed a kiss to the joint and was rewarded with a pleased hum.

Considering what those adults could teach her, Macie's better off picking locks than pockets, anyway, Sebastian thought and then caught himself, realizing what he'd just done. He chuckled, a little ruefully, and Aeryn smiled at the reluctant, but warm sound.

"What were you thinking?"

"Oh, just that I'm a bit of a hypocrite."

Her slim fingers paused in their finger combing. "That's a rather harsh thing to say. Are you?"

"That I'd rather see her pick locks than pockets?" Sebastian shook his head. "Aye, a wee bit. When did you learn to do it?" He'd always wondered.

She was quiet a moment and he turned, concerned that he'd hurt her. There was a look of consternation on her face.

"Well, I was always something of a magpie, you know. I...don't know, really?" Aeryn cast back and couldn't recall. She'd just always...done it. "I just wanted to know what everyone was carrying in their pockets. It wasn't until I was a fair bit older, twelve or so, that I ever went for coin. When was your first lock, then?"

He chuckled again. "My bedroom door, when I was eight."

"Oh." A flash of sorrow in her eyes had him pressing another kiss to her knee, a little higher than before.

None of that, now. "And it's a skill that served me well, there after."

"You do have the nimblest fingers of any man I ever met." This was said with a happy little sigh and he laughed outright. Sebastian turned his head to look up at her and Aeryn felt a flutter of desire well up at the burning intent in his gaze. "I need to work on my daggers." She had meant to be productive while they waited for dinner.

"Do you now?"

"All that salt water, ah…wasn't good for them."

"Is that so?"

"Sebastian…" Maker, he did love to hear his name on those lips.

"Yes, leannan?"

"Our room has a bolt on the door, you know."

He glanced up from where his hands had been sliding up along her firm, strong thighs under the slitted sides of her skirt. Her eyes were smoky and heated and her mouth was curved up in her crooked smile. "And that's true. Shall we…"

She slid away from him and threw him a laughing smile over her shoulder. "I don't know…that's a pretty big bed. I might actually win a game of keep away, here."

"Never." And he was smiling, too, when she threw the bolt behind them.

They actually managed to get dressed an hour or so later.

Aeryn allowed one of the maids to help her with her hair. It was longer now than it had been for years and even when it had been long before, Aeryn had never done more than weave it into plain braids or pull it back severely into a ponytail. She needed to learn a few tricks. The young woman looked at her critically for a few minutes and then set her fingers to work, braiding back the bangs and getting the waving hair to curl sweetly around her ears. It was, Aeryn had to admit, quite attractive. A few adjustments, and the new look would be suitable for fighting, too. She'd been having trouble keeping her bangs pinned away from her face, but the braid could be tightened enough to fix that.

She'd opted for another of the laced velvet waists and fitted trousers, in deep green. Alistair had said informal, and her maid had assured her that trousers, while unusual, wouldn't stand out too much. Aeryn had no trouble being unusual, but she didn't want to be outré, either. Plus, she'd seen that Sebastian had laid out his russet doublet and the green would show well, beside it.

Adjusting the lay of the two small knives she carried in specially embroidered sheaths tucked along her ribcage, she came out of the dressing room. Sebastian had just finished lacing up his dress boots and had to catch his breath. He'd not seen her in green before.

"How do I look?"

He set his hand to his chin to consider a moment as she posed, showing off the new hairstyle with an upraised chin. "Have you any idea how beautiful you are, mo chridhe?"

Smirking, she called him out, "Flatterer."

"Not at all, for flattery is a lie and a sin. And when I tell you that your skin is like white silk, that your lips are curved like the line of my bow, that your hair is a crown of dark flame and the perfect foil to all your pale beauty, that your eyes put all the stars of the heavens to shame, I speak only the Maker's own truth. You are so beautiful, my Aeryn."

Sebastian stalked towards her as he spoke, his voice sinking low in his chest and smoothing over her like rough velvet. Aeryn swayed into him as he drew near. The truth was she had no real doubt of her own appeal. But, somehow, hearing it from him in that rolling brogue with all the love in his gaze was far better than any proof her mirror gave her.

He did like the new hairstyle, Sebastian thought, though the neatness of the braid made him long to tug it free and let the crimson bangs spill. Ah, but he had years of training in resisting temptations behind him.

And he only had to last out the evening, thank the Maker.

Those eyes of hers were glowing, now, like molten silver. Sebastian couldn't resist bending to kiss her, the need to taste her setting such a rushing beat in his ears he almost didn't hear her whispered thanks before he nudged apart her lips to claim their sweetness. Their tongues slid together, tantalizingly stroking.

Rapping on the door signaled the arrival of Macie, looking pink cheeked after her freetime. And she agreed readily enough to staying behind. Especially once Isabela had offered to stay with her and Merrill.

"I had more than my share of noble parties long ago, thank you. I'd rather teach the kid how to cheat at cards." Aeryn grinned at Macie's look of delight. She hoped her…apprentice, fine. Yes, that's clearly what she was, now. Although maybe less just Aeryn's than all of theirs. Anyway, hopefully the lesson on sneaking and breaking in that Aeryn had planned for the morning would go over well. She wanted someone small who could get into the little crevices that even Aeryn couldn't hide in anymore to help her scan out the palace's hiding places.

Fenris had pulled out the formal wear he'd been forced to wear to Aeryn's official Champion's recognition ball, years before. The black jaquard and leather doublet and trousers suited him, but it always surprised Sebastian to realize again that the lyrium seemed to know it was being hidden. It glowed, faintly, even under the leather.

"I will stay as well, if..."

Aeryn interrupted, with a soft note of concern. "Stay behind if you like, Fenris." She knew that the increased lyrium display would wear on him after too long, giving him a headache and shortening his already short temper. "I had hoped to have you scope out the security with me, but until we find you something more comfortable..."

He shook his head. "No, if you need me, I will come. I can...it's fine, Hawke."

"Alright." She'd have to keep an eye on him.

The dinner wasn't what Aeryn would call small and informal. She was introduced to dozens of people; nobles, dignitaries, and hangers-on. But it was how she was introduced that surprised her most.

"My long lost cousins. Great great grandfather Merrin married an Amell." Alistair beamed at her. "Knew those genealogists would come in useful someday."

Sebastian looked almost as happy about it as Alistair. "It's a nice tie, Aeryn. Starkhaven...likes titles. And kin-claim to a king, no matter how distant...well, let's just say it'll smooth a few paths for us, later, since Kirkwall is shut to us now."

"I see."

"Cousins to the king." Bethany looked quite perky about the news. "What do you think mother would have to say?"

"I...guess she'd be glad of it." Nobility had made Leandra's life easier. Better. And if Aeryn had resented how easily her mother had seemed to move on, well, that was just Aeryn's own problem, wasn't it?

Bethany squeezed her sister's hand and soon found herself quite the center of attention. After all, an unattached cousin to the king had more potential than Aeryn, who was obviously Sebastian's lady.

After Bethany had been whirled around the room on an introductory front by Dierdre, she returned to Aeryn's side to eat, some what breathless and inclined to be a little sarcastic. "I do wonder if they'd be as friendly if they knew..." Bethany wiggled her fingers suggesting magic.

"Probably not, but they don't know about my proclivities, either. It'll work out, Beth. At least we aren't surrounded by Templars."

"True." But sadness traced across Bethany's features. Cullen still lingered on her thoughts, then, Aeryn realized. One Templar she wouldn't mind seeing.

"Oh, Beth. I'm sorry, little sister."

Beth waved her off. "No. No...it's just...I just realized I hadn't thought at all about him tonight. Not even when...I hadn't thought it was possible. To not be thinking of him, I mean." Her brown eyes were soft and pensive. "What does that mean, Aeryn?"

"You can't grieve forever, Beth. It isn't healthy. He's living his life, right? Doing well, even. I don't think he'd want you to pine so much that you couldn't live, too."

"Wouldn't you?" Those too-seeing eyes cut over to Sebastian who was listening intently to something Alistair was saying.

"I..." Aeryn shook her head. "I'm not you, little sister. You know I deal...poorly...with..." Taking a sip of her cider, a sparkling variety she'd heard of but never tasted, she shrugged.

"Loss." It was true, Bethany knew well enough.

Aeryn shot her sister a wry grin. "Don't take my path, anyway. Come on, let's critique the clothes. Merrill and Isabela will want to hear. And surely puce isn't really as popular as it seems to be. Tell me I'm imagining it, pretty please."

The dinner moved on into small entertaining acts and Bethany excused herself after the Nevarran acrobats, still too quiet. Aeryn watched her go, worried, only to be distracted when Fenris came to stand by her, looking a little haggard and grim.

"There are not enough guards. If there was a concerted attack, this would be too vulnerable a place."

She snagged a cup of wine from a passing servant and set it in his hand. "Well, it's a fine line to draw. I imagine Alistair doesn't want to feel smothered."

"Perhaps not. But he will regret it if something happens. We can be useful, here." Fenris took a cautious sip of the wine and raised his eyebrow, appreciatively.

"I think so. Varric?" The dwarf had made another round, picking up on gossip.

"I've got an introduction to the Guildmaster tomorrow. We'll find out if there's any official hit out." He shrugged and then with a gleam in his eyes that reminded her of fun nights in Kirkwall, added, "This isn't a bad gig, Hawke. We're going to make some good connections. Choir Boy...you better take advantage of this or I'm gonna regret taking you under my wing."

Sebastian grinned. "Is that what you call it? I thought it was hazing you were doing."

"Boy, if you had been hazed, you'd have woken up in your skin in the parlor of the Rose with a tattoo on your ass that read "Property of the Maker. Return to sender."

"Oh, I might have enjoyed that!" Aeryn grinned when Sebastian gave a wicked smirk and a slight bow.

"And so too would the ladies and gents of the Rose. I'd have given good measure, even unconscious."

Varric's rumbling laugh made everyone around them ask to be let in on the joke, which did make Sebastian blush. He wasn't quite up to keeping up with Varric's banter outside of their little group.

Turning away from the conversation a moment, Aeryn cast her eyes over the crowded room. There was a couple in the darker corner, trysting. And a few steps away, an older woman who was clearly looking for one of the young dalliers.

A servant passed delivered a tray holding delicate glass cups of elderflower liqueur to an older group and Aeryn's gaze slipped over them.

Only to come back, when something nagged at her. Something setting off that little pestering worry at the base of her spine, setting the hairs on the back of her neck on end. She'd seen...what? She never could quite explain it, how she picked up on danger. Mainly because the truth was she'd seen something that reminded her of herself. A wolf in the fold, pretending to be a sheep.

Something about the way the one servant moved. All of Alistair's household staff was quiet and unassuming, a sign of Dierdre's management to keep them out of the way of her husband, but that woman moved just a little too smoothly and with too much purpose.

Varric coughed at her elbow. "Hawke."

"Yeah, I see her." Aeryn's voice had dropped from the cultured murmur she'd been using to her sharper hunting tone and Sebastian looked up.

"What is it?"

Aeryn set orders as she leaned softly against Sebastian to cover her adjustments, loosening the ribbons on her sleeves to give herself better range of movement. "Fenris, get between the queen and the rest of the room. Varric, cover Alistair. Sebastian, sweep the room, anyone here look...wrong?"

Frowning, he used his height to observe the room and... "There, the man with the pale blue sleeves. No' a servant nor a noble." Fenris tracked on the man slinking around the edge.

Aeryn slipped away from them, letting Varric explain quietly behind her. Sebastian watched as Aeryn's graceful form swayed, and she stopped to pick up a small plate of delicacies before gliding unobtrusively to the other side of the room. In another few steps, she could intercept the servant and check her out…no, too late.

The servant's hand flashed and Aeryn tossed the plate up to intercept a throwing knife. A handful of shaved ice from a platter of spiced shrimp served to distract and Aeryn moved in to break the woman's wrist against a stone column. Another knife flicked out in the off hand and nicked Aeryn's palm. Aeryn stopped playing and smashed her forehead into the other woman's face, breaking the nose and disarming her. Shrieking, the assassin dropped the knife to cover her face. Aeryn jerked the assassin across her hip, flipping her and finally landing with Aeryn's knee in her chest and her own knife in her throat.

Sebastian watched her with fond appreciation for the smoothness of her movement, efficient and precise. She really was exquisite in her art. A huntress in her prime.

Ignoring the shrieks from the crowd, Aeryn flicked her eyes up to Alistair, who had drawn his blade and shifted Dierdre behind him.

Fenris had moved in a blaze of lyrium as Aeryn had stopped the first knife, and was now holding the struggling man Sebastian had picked out, one lean, branded arm around the man's broad neck.

Sebastian and Varric stepped out of the way, so that the king could see his attackers.

"Your Majesty, shall we dispatch these villains for you?" Aeryn's eyes were pale and impersonal as moonstones on the king. She blinked as a slight disorientation slid over her, but it passed quickly as Alistair stalked over and set his sword at the woman's gut. Pushing away with a slight extra shove to the assassin's ribcage, Aeryn rose to her feet and allowed the king room to stand over the prostrate assassin.

"You will tell me why." No trace of the merry young king now. He was cold and terrible in anger, giving all gathered a glimpse of the Warden who had crossed Ferelden with the Hero. This, as much as his popularity with the common folk, was why the country had come together so quickly after the Blight, Sebastian thought. It was something to consider.

"Bastard! Imposter! You had the true queen murdered and now you attempt to set your cuckolding wife's bastard on the throne." From Fenris' grasp, the man grunted his agreement and Fenris' grasp tightened, choking him off.

She looked up at Aeryn, then. "You...you're not from here…you aren't one of them. Our true queen, m'lady. Anora, daughter of our true hero, who those ...Maker forsaken wardens...dragged through the mud, dared to call traitor…"

Sebastian saw Aeryn's lip curl and knew what was coming. That icy, cruel side of her. He stepped closer to her, offering her his presence.

"Let me stop you, there. I am not one to defend Loghain to, bitch. I, who stood at Ostagar, bleeding and nearly dying alongside hundreds. I, who saw Loghain turn tail and let his King be viciously slain, let his countrymen fall to the filth and beg and die and rot..." Aeryn had to stop and regain control of herself. The knife was clenched in her hand and it nearly trembled.

"You will find no sympathy from me. Your Majesty..." She stopped again, realizing she had been about to beg permission to kill like a leashed hound. Aeryn beat back the urge with reasonable success. What had her so short? There was another small wave of dizziness and she realized. Void. Poison. Nothing too lethal, considering all the nasty things she'd exposed herself to, but she'd have to be mindful till it wore off. Angling herself so that she'd be unseen by the larger crowd and her companions, she drew the king's eye and mouthed, "poison." Wiggling the knife, to indicate it.

Alistair went very still and the assassin at his sword point blanched.

But he kept his voice even, with every measure of control he had. "You'll get no pardon from me, either, mistaken as you are." Alistair glanced around at the gathered court. "Does anyone here deny my right to kill them?"

No one spoke for a minute until the lady Aeryn had been introduced to as Bann Alfstana sighed. "Well, don't do it here, Your Majesty. It would ruin the floor. Think of your poor housekeeper." Aeryn's lips curved just a little. She had missed Ferelden.

Sebastian was a bit shocked, he had to admit. But had it been his court, Aeryn's celebration marred by such an attempt? He wasn't sure. He would have to think about such things, soon.

"Alistair..." Dierdre's voice was soft. Alistair glanced up and at the look on her face, immediately sheathed his sword and stepped to her side, wrapping a strong arm around her thickening waist. Dierdre didn't quite sag against him, but her color was off, Aeryn noted worriedly.

The king escorted his queen to the door, throwing over his shoulder. "Take that trash to Drakon. They'll hang in the morning." The three attending guards, embarrassed by their lack of participation in the fight, gathered up the bleeding attackers and marched them away.

Aeryn felt a little unsteady and shook herself, hoping to fend off the adrenaline and the toxin as Sebastian stepped to the couple's side, already.

In a low voice, he asked Alistair, "Is there a healer on hand or should we send for Bethany?"

"Oh, I'm fine...just a bit too much excitement is all," Dierdre demurred.

But Alistair nodded. "Send her over, in case. There's a healer at the Chantry, but she might be out when the messenger gets there."

Aeryn thought the party would end, but most lingered. "Jackals after the gossip," Fenris informed her caustically.

That did seem to be why everyone stood about. The seneschal had the tables rearranged and decks of cards and other amusements soon had the guests happily situated. But almost all tried to draw Aeryn aside, applauding her quick intervention. She soon had a glass in her hand and if she downed it rather too quickly, it was refilled just as fast.

The attention was...not unpleasant, though it felt unnatural. Aeryn had grown used to nobles smiling at her face and sniping behind her back, but the ones who spoke to her seemed sincere. Still, she was relieved when Sebastian reappeared and she could use his larger presence to shield herself a little. Fenris had joined a card game, the traitor.

And Varric...oh, Maker. He was back to his tales. "Oh, you want to hear about the Arishok? That, my friend, is one for the ages, no shit, you should have seen her..." He had a crowd in minutes.

Sebastian watched her, a little concerned. Usually after a fight, Aeryn was bursting with energy and ready to be a bit social. But she had her cool, bland mask on and she was holding herself a bit aloof, despite the attention. When she allowed him to hover, it worried him further, and he slid his hand from her arm to her waist, protectively.

After a bit, Alistair returned to assure everyone of Dierdre's wellbeing and a spread of sweets and coffee was carted in. "She's her usual sparkling self. Back to her bustle tomorrow, don't doubt it!" And the relieved laughter in the room made Aeryn reconsider Fenris' comment about jackals. Dierdre was popular, and they were worried.

The king swept over and, with a grin, swept her into a bear-hug. "Excuse me, Vael! Had to thank her properly." Aeryn's face went pink as the room buzzed with amusement. "Really. I knew I did the right thing having you stay!" He excused himself again and the crowd thinned to just the few dignitaries and visitors staying at the palace within half a mark.

Bann Alfstana slapped Aeryn across the shoulder, one last time. "It was neatly done! I'm glad to see Alistair finally found himself another protector as sneaky as..." She stopped suddenly, reconsidering her words. "Well, you'll do. I hope he convinces you to stay on."

"I'm sorry, what?"

But the bann excused herself, hurriedly, and headed for the door.

Rubbing at the incipient headache at her temple, Aeryn looked up at Sebastian who had his warm hand securely in the small of her back. "I think we can leave now."

"If you'd like, Aeryn."

They got to the landing, out of the sight of curious eyes, and Aeryn leaned into him, her head just at his shoulder. "It is lovely that you're so tall." He'd been like a bulwark between her and the crush.

Sebastian couldn't help a pleased smile and wondered if she realized she'd just repeated the first compliment she'd ever given him, outside of her strategic approval of his aim. They had been out on the Wounded Coast, following yet another rumor of Tal Vashoth, and between Aeryn, Varric, Merrill, and Fenris, who was tall for an elf, they'd not been able to look too far ahead without giving away their position. He'd received a delighted smile when he spotted their prey, half a mile away over several boulders. She'd said it just that way, with fondness and admiration. And for the first time in years, he'd been glad of it. It had never sat well with his father or brothers once he'd hit sixteen and been the tallest in the keep. "You remind him too much of his father," one visiting noblewoman had told Sebastian when he'd been ignored, again, and she'd taken advantage of his willingness to be distracted.

And no one ever mentioned physical attributes in the Chantry. Or so he had discovered after one embarrassing instance when he'd admired a sister's graceful movement in placing candles. Oh, once, Sebastian had been given endless compliments on his eyes, his elegant manners, even his mouth on several memorable occasions. He'd forgotten what it felt like, though, until Aeryn had come into his life.

"Lovely and tall." She stroked his cheek and stretched up to kiss him, just brushing his jaw. "Ah, missed."

Aeryn couldn't have drunk enough to make her unsteady, but he took the excuse to draw her closer. "You're a wee bit tipsy, à ruin." He smiled into her hair.

"Possibly. But don't change the subject."

"The subject being I'm tall and, ah, lovely?"

Aeryn tipped her head, enjoying the flush of color running up his neck. "Well...handsome, just this side of pretty."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. "Pretty, is it?"

"Hmmm."

"Not entirely sure how I feel about that."

"Well, so long as I know how I feel. Such a temptation you must have been as a youth, my lad. That nose of yours sends you solidly on the side of masculine beauty, now, though, I promise."

"And do I not tempt you now, broken nose and all?" Sebastian angled his gaze through his lashes. Ah, he was a charmer, her rogue prince. The Maker alone knew how anyone had ever resisted him.

Aeryn's low chuckle caught in his chest like a lure, reeling him in. "Oh, Sebastian. If you only knew, my love." She languidly slid one finger down the bridge of said nose. "I'm terribly fond of it. Very rakish, even makes you look a bit dangerous. It was the third thing I noted...what sort of priest had any right to look that dashing?"

Sebastian caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertip. Dangerous and dashing, was it, then? He'd have to remember to say a prayer for the barman who had cracked him across the face with a pitcher. Apparently the Maker did have a reason for all things.

She frowned, suddenly distracted from their teasing play. "Oh, sodding Void."

"What?"

"I had empty pockets when I came down." She pulled out a small black runestone with a silver rune carved into it. "Maker...where did I...?"

"Dinna blame the Maker for those light fingers of yours." Sebastian shook his head and plucked the stone from her hand. He'd seen this somewhere in the last few hours…but where, then? And she surely hadn't drunk enough to let her fingers stray in a room full of nobles? After what she'd told Macie?

"I'll face my own music, thank you." She took it back, palming it. "I'll just tell the steward I found it on the floor."

Shaking his head, Sebastian remonstrated with her. "I'm not sure that counts as facing the music, mo chridhe, unless you actually admit to your thieving ways."

"Hmph. So long as it gets back to whoever was so careless as to lose it." Aeryn stumbled again and Sebastian caught her.

"Aeryn?!"

A deep breath cleared her muzzy head again. He was worried now, though. She'd better own up. Sighing, she said, "I'm alright. The liquor must have reacted badly with the poison."

Shock widened his eyes. "Poi...Aeryn, what poison?"

She sent him a crooked smile. "On the knife. I'm fine, love. Just need a bit of a restorative and a nap. My toes are a little numb. It'll wear off soon. I'm mostly inured to the ones I use and this was just…oh, spider venom and woundingwort, mixed, if I was to guess. Baby stuff." Lethal enough, though, to someone who hadn't been playing with poison since she was a child.

Sebastian had gone white to his lips. He was going to...honestly, he wanted to shake her. She took so little care of herself. What could he do? If there was going to be a more dire reaction, she'd have already collapsed, but…"D'ya think your sister is still wi' the queen?"

"I'm alright. Hey!" He'd swept her up and was walking her towards the stairs. "Sebastian! I'm fine!" She thumped him on the shoulder, ineffectually since all she got was an arrogant look.

"Dinna push me, Aeryn. You should ha' said something." Sebastian tightened his arms around her and headed for the upper landing. He'd almost stayed to the card game. She could have stumbled on the stairs or...he forced the could-have-beens aside and simply prayed for patience.

Aeryn laid her head to his shoulder, in resignation. She was off-balance. Might as well enjoy the ride, she supposed. And take the comfort.


Author's Note:

There is art for Shelter and Steal Away Home, now! *cuehappyfangirlsqueeingfromy ourauthor*

Elyssa Wecera, known around here as fruitsexual, did a saucy, daggery, Aeryn that I've been using as my avatar here and as a cover for Tales from the Shelterverse.

Lenacast over at deviantart has done a lovely sketch of Sebastian and Aeryn, called Mo Chridhe. It is very NSFW, but if you're of age, go tell her how awesome she is!

Ladies, I'm in awe. Thanks!