I had no choice but to rejoin the world of the living so, stamping down thoughts of my family (death and rage) I pushed myself back into the city of Kirkwall, only to discover a letter from the Viscount.
I was to meet him immediately. By myself.
Taking in a deep breath, I returned to my room and dressed to meet the leader of the city that was ruining my life and had stolen my family.
I held my head high as I walked the streets of Hightown, my hands balled into fists at my sides. Well-dressed or not, I was always hiding weapons. I would sleep with them for years to come, whether I slept alone or with a...friend.
Seneschal Brann did not look pleased to see me but I barely paid him attention, tipping my head as I walked passed. He called after me, saying that I needed an appointment.
I laughed.
"It's my son again," Viscount Dumar rubbed his pale forehead. "He's gone and joined the Qunari."
What was his name ? Seamus? That boy – though intelligent, had an awful way of going about things. Most kids stayed out too late; this one ran away with a major player in political turmoil.
"And what would you like me to do about it, Viscount?"
"Bring him home – you did it once, perhaps you can do it again. I'd prefer it if you can convince him into it, but if persuasion is impossible, drag him back."
I was by no means opposed to helping him, but I was momentarily struck by how ridiculous the situation was. I was playing bounty hunter-baby sitter.
"All right."
He sighed heavily, "I trust that you will do this discretely?"
"As much so as possible, Viscount."
I brought Fenris and only Fenris when I went to the Qunari encampment. His connection with the fatih and the people that believed it helped me to feel comfortable in front of the Arishok.
"Arishok, I mean no disrespect – but I must speak to Seamus."
The gray-skinned, horned giant watched me from the throne on which he sat. He spoke of baas and Seamus' unimportance, how he was only a member of the Qun, now. Not a political figure's son.
"I understand that we disagree, and I will not try to take him from his choice. He did not speak to his father before leaving and I only wish to give the Viscount a piece of mind."
The Arishok looked...well, as he always did. After a long, moment, he spoke. "I do not know why you are here. His father sent him a letter that requested he meet him at your church."
I looked to Fenris and frowned.
"Why would he-" he began, his face contorted in confusion.
"He didn't," I groaned.
"A trap?"
"Most certainly." I turned back to the Arishok and thanked him in his tongue as best I knew how.
Fenris and I ran, gathering Aveline at the Keep and Sebastian as we made it to the Chantry.
The boy was on his knees at the altar of Andraste. His dark hair ruffled in a phantom breeze as we reached the top of the stairs.
I could smell the blood before I saw it.
"Seamus?"
Nothing.
Louder. "Seamus?"
Still nothing.
I gripped his shoulder.
His body collapsed to the side and the blood was all over. His throat had been slit – somewhere else, the blood that was there had spilled down his front, from the wound.
I swallowed my scream and stumbled a little as I tried to keep my balance.
"We have to find out who did this...and in the Chantry!" Sebastian rallied. I wanted to slap him. Who cared where it happened? An innocent, if occasionally selfish, boy was dead and his blood was on my hands.
"We have to tell the Viscount," Aveline spoke, shaking her head. I didn't want to leave him lying there, but Aveline was right.
Letting out a shaky sigh, I used the rail to walk down the stairs.
"Serrah Hawke," a familiar disembodied voice spoke from the shadows, followed by the depressingly familiar face of Mother Petrice, "what an unfortunate turn of events. Murdering the son of the Viscount in the house of the Maker!"
I removed my dagger from its sheath but Sebastian grabbed my hand. He was lucky that I had the presence of mind not to turn on him and cut him down instead.
"You vile, insidious woman. He was just a boy!" Sebastian still held me back. I wanted to tear into him as much as I did the woman before me.
"It is necessary," Mother Petrice spoke, shaking her head. "We must start the revolution against the heretical Qunari. They are stealing our faithful."
"They can't be particularly faithful if they're leaving," I snorted, trying to calm myself by breathing. I jerked my arms out of Sebastian's grasp but did not step forward as I wanted to. Petrice looked as if she would hit me.
"Blasphemer!" Petrice cursed. As if on cue, a group of armed men and women drew forth into our view. "Earn your place by the Maker's side! These people have come to side with the Qunari and are spitting in the face of Andraste!"
She stepped back and turned away as the Templar, whom I assumed was leading the group, made for me. Sebastian called not to harm them and I groaned. It was so much easier to cut someone down than to knock them out. However, I agreed.
"Pin them to the wall, knock them out – whatever you have to do, but spill as little blood as possible."
Choir Boy was going to get it, so help me.
It was a frustratingly long battle in which I got a knife to the side and an arrow to the shoulder but we managed to avoid killing any of the zealots. I jerked the arrow out and groaned, feeling the blood drain from my face. I'd have to go see Anders, but we had other things to attend to. For the moment, I took an elfroot potion and prayed that it would be sufficient for the time being.
"There they are – killing the faithful in the house of the Maker!" Petrice accused, walking down a flight of Chantry stairs with the Grand Cleric at her side.
"In fact, none of them are dead," I responded, shoving the vial back into the bag Varric carried. Petrice's face turned dark.
"Sebastian?" the Grand Cleric looked to my archer companion and he nodded, responding in his thick Starkhaven accent. "She speaks the truth, Grand Cleric. We left them all alive, if a little bruised. We saw no sense in murdering these poor, misguided people."
"She murdered the Viscount's boy, as you can see."
"In fact, I did not," I responded, seeing red but clenching my fists. I wished, then, that Sebastian chose to keep me at bay. Unfortunately, he was staying his ground to my right.
"She speaks lies-"
"Mother Petrice, I have both eyes and ears with which to ascertain the truth. Hawke, you stand with the Captain of the Guard, on behalf of the Viscount, and with Brother Sebastian."
"Aye," I nodded, Aveline stepping forward and Sebastian as well. Sometimes – most of the time – we didn't get along, but he felt beholden to me and when he chose to stand behind me, I appreciated it. The Grand Cleric looked at me for a long moment before she nodded. "Tell me, then, what happened here?"
"I do not know all of the details, but from what I gather Mother Petrice had Seamus murdered in an attempt to incite a rebellion against the Qunari." I continued to recount the day and the evening, bringing her full circle to that moment.
The Grand Cleric decided to turn her back on Mother Petrice for the evening, speaking cryptically about the trouble she had caused and the sort she was in. She went to rouse some templars or some find some guards to take the rabble-rousers to the Keep for the night, in an attempt to discern who were the crazed faithful and who were only misled.
Unfortunately, the Arishok was not so subtle. He had sent an assassin, in the event that Mother Petrice had done exactly what we had imagined. Two arrows and the woman was dead. The words I had to share would do me no good and so I simply shook my head as the Qunari spoke. I would leave it to the Guard. I was, again, tired. I left Sebastian to deal with the mess we had made, Aveline to tell the Viscount – she understood – and Fenris walked me home. An odd thing, that – Fenris and I were at odds almost constantly over mages or something about magic. We walked in silence until my door, at which point he turned towards me in the darkness.
"The templar." He spoke plainly, no question in his voice.
"Yes?"
"He cares for you."
His words caught me off guard and I was struck by it, so much that I was gawking at him in the flickering lamplight that I would have to put out soon.
"He has to," he continued, leaning against the stone that made up the front of the estate. "He could not be so dense as to miss what Anders and Merrill are. Taking them in, however – he must know what that would do to you."
"I don't quite understand what you want me to say here, Fenris."
Suddenly, it dawned on me – it wasn't about Cullen at all. It was about the slender, brooding ex-slave that stood before me with the gentle glow of lyrium humming beneath his skin. The rage that propelled him at my side both helped him to stand and kept him in my presence. He may not have cared about me in the way the I suspected Cullen did, nor in the way that everyone (except me, of course) knew that Anders did, but he cared. In fact, he cared so much to impart advice that I was growing rather weary of hearing from a templar that was a known protector of mages and a possessed, revenge-crazed rebel mage.
"Understand that you put yourself in danger with the company you keep."
So said the elf with a bounty on his head.
Author's Note: It's bad, short, and took forever. Sorry guys, school has been kicking my butt this week (I should've been writing a paper instead of this) and I'm coming down with something. I already have ideas for the next chapter so don't worry, hopefully after I get this paper kicked out I should be much better off. Don't worry, Cullen smut coming soon. And thank you to sassyXviolets for the review! And again, to all of my readers. (=