Cullen:

It was nearly a month later when he finally saw her again, and as predicted her anger was visible from halfway across the courtyard. It was not unexpected, a visit on this day. Carver had been officially instated as a recruit the day before and he expected nothing less of her. He saw her storming across the Gallow's Courtyard, determination in every stride and steel in her eyes.

"Ser Cullen! A word with you!" She growled when she was perhaps ten paces off. He waited until she stood directly in front of him before speaking.

"I suppose we both know why you are here, serah," he stated calmly.

"I suppose we do, ser," she hissed.

He stared down into those cold eyes of hers. She thought this was his doing, of that there was no doubt. The accusation he found there angered him. They had formed a sort of truce after their last encounter, he was a fool to think it would ever last. Still, the expression on her face rankled him to the point that part of him wanted to taunt her, make her think that the entire thing was his doing; to test her composure for a change. He resisted this temptation, however. Such games were for children.

After length he spoke, "Your brother came to me for a recommendation into the order."

"And did you give him one?" She ground out.

"No," he answered honestly.

She raised a brow at his statement, clearly unconvinced, "and yet the fact remains that he is a Templar recruit. I can't help but consider where the fault might lie."

"A recruit he may be, but without my aid," her said, perhaps more harshly than he intended.

"But neither did you turn him away." She accused.

"Knight-Captain!" He glanced up and saw a messenger fast approaching. Cullen had been waiting for news regarding a deployment of knights who had failed to return a week prior, and had a feeling the messenger was bringing him just that. He held out a hand to halt the page and continued speaking.

"Hawke, truth be told, I had nothing to do with this. Carver made it clear that this is what he desires, and I suggested he speak with you before making any decisions." He kept his voice calm and well-modulated, "Your brother applied and was recruited, with no doing from me. Perhaps you should take this up with him?"

A muscle in her jaw ticked, she looked away and muttered. "Ser Carver won't deign to grant me audience."

"A pity," he glanced over at the messenger whose expression clearly stated his information could not wait. "Is there anything else you needed? Or may I continue about my day?"

The glare she sent him was icy. "We are not finished, Templar."

He sighed, "We never are, Hawke."

Hawke:

Hawke paced the length of Varric's suite at the Hanged Man, muttering curses to herself and occasionally sparing some words for Varric and Aveline.

"Hawke," Aveline offered from where she sat, "perhaps this will be good for him. Carver could do with some discipline."

"But a Templar Aveline? You wouldn't even have him in the guard!" Hawke cried.

"He'll have more supervision in the order than he would in the guard. It will be years before he's considered for an actual knighthood," Aveline said calmly.

Hawke sighed and rubbed her head.

"I have to agree with Aveline, Hawke," Varric added. "This might be good for junior."

"Tell that to mother. Apparently his joining is somehow my fault even though I didn't find out until she did," Hawke groaned.

"Well..." hedged Aveline. Hawke shot her a glare,

"Well what?"

The other woman shrugged, "He probably did join it just to spite you. You know better than anyone what a tit he can be."

Hawke had thought exactly the same thing, but didn't voice her opinion. Mother was right; it was her fault, though Maker knew she had tried to repair their relationship. How she missed Bethany at times like this. Her little sister always managed to mend things between them. She sat down at the table with a sigh and filled a tankard with the pitcher of warm ale from the table. "The bloody Knight-Captain could have at least informed me that Carver had gone to him about it," she muttered into her ale.

Varric snorted at that.

"What?" Hawke snapped.

"Hawke, did you really think that he would go to you with anything at this point? You've admitted you do your best to irritate the man. Besides, I highly doubt he encouraged Carver to join. Or even wanted him to. The man had to realize the backlash he'd have to endure."

Varric, of course, was correct.

She groaned, "I know. I just feel like I lost my brother. We may not have been on the best of terms, but he's still my little brother." She lowered her head into her hands and muttered, more to herself, "I wish he would have come to me first."

She felt Varrics hand briefly land on her shoulder, "It could be worse you know. He could have, I don't know, locked us up in a chamber in the deep roads and left us for dead."

She felt a corner of her mouth pull up, "I suppose you're right."

He sat back, satisfied, "I usually am."