6/22/2013 A/N: Contrary to popular belief, I have not abandoned this story! LOL Thank you for all the emails, PM's and tweets from my followers who continue to check on me to make sure I that am still alive an' kicking, and planning on continuing with my stories. This chapter is dedicated to you. :)
Oh yes... as always thanks to BioWare for allowing me to play in their wonderful Sand Box and especially to David Gaider, who has been gracious enough to answer my questions regarding lore and such, and for not thinking I am some crazy person who stalks him on Twitter!
Chapter Twenty-five
Hawke drew back the deep hood of her cloak, baring her head to the coolness of the early morning air. She picked her way with care as she moved along the waterfront, making sure not to trip over the coils of braided ropes placed here and there by the dockhands that worked in this bustling area of the city.
A large vessel with two tall masts sat moored in the harbor, her Captain keeping a watchful eye on the men that were unloading the cargo that had been stored in the ship's hold. The loud sounds of splintering wood rent the air when a large crate crashed to the ground, spilling its contents of silks and colorful fabrics. Gauging by the loud and angry curses the ship's captain hurled at the clumsy workers, Hawke had no doubt the fabrics were Orlesian and very expensive.
Drawing her cloak tighter around her, she gave the scene one last cursory glance and moved past, continuing on to her destination. She wanted to get this meeting over and done with before Fenris woke and realized she had left the estate alone. She still marveled that she had managed to leave her bedroom without waking him; he had not moved a muscle when she had slid away from his side and out of the bed. Hawke suspected that his deep sleep had something to do with all the wine he had consumed before finally retiring for the night. He was generally moderate in his drinking, but last evening he had downed bottle after bottle of the heady liquor until he had sunk into a depth of broodiness that had driven her from his presence to seek the lonely welcome of her bed.
She wished she knew what was really bothering Fenris. He had been somewhat withdrawn as of late, almost as if he was purposely keeping his distance from her. At first, she had thought it was because of her refusal to abandon her friendship with Anders, despite Fenris' extreme disapproval of the close relationship she maintained with the troubled mage, but the more she thought about it, the less she was inclined to believe that was the motivating factor for his…well, for his reticent behavior around her.
By Andraste's ashes, why can nothing ever be easy between me and the elf!?
One of the city guards called out a greeting to her as he passed by, heading in the opposite direction. Unable to remember the young guardsman's name- Padrick? Percy? She could never keep their names straight- she simply smiled and inclined her head in return of his greeting and continued on her way. It seemed that Aveline's recruits were getting younger and younger each year, Hawke thought with another glance back at the guard, who had stopped and was watching her as she walked away. Taking quick note of that fact, she frowned and quickened her stride. She glanced back one more time and was relieved to see that she was no longer under the guard's scrutiny as he resumed his patrol of the waterfront.
Skirting around a large puddle left behind from last night's rains, she wondered what Aveline was up too. Her forehead puckered in thought as it suddenly occurred to her that the city's guards had been taking a much too keen of interest in her lately. And yesterday, when she had been sitting on a bench in one of the small alcoves that was not too far from the steps leading to Viscount's Keep, Aveline had suddenly appeared and sat down next to her, telling her that they needed to talk.
The Guard-Captain showing up unexpectedly was not an unusual occurrence; Aveline did that all the time. What was strange- now looking back at it- was that Aveline seemed to know exactly where to find her, despite the fact that Hawke had purposely picked that particular spot due to the overhanging ivy, which kept the seat in deep shadows, making it difficult for those passing by to see just who sat there. Yet some how Aveline had known she had been seated there.
The wind rose higher, carrying with it the strong scent of salt and seaweed as it lifted the loose tresses of her hair. Pushing away the tendrils from her face, she drew in a deep breath, calming the irritation that was rising within her. For as long as she could remember, others had closely watched her because of her status as an apostate mage- was she now also supposed to endure her lover and her friends spying on her simply because she was pregnant?
A loud epithet burst from her lips startling one of the dockhands within a group of men that were taking a break near the stack of crates they were moving. Two of the others laughed at her colorful choice of words and the fourth man actually had the nerve to proposition her-rather poorly, she might add.
"Watch your tongue, you cur! You will address my sister with the respect she deserves as your Champion." The distinct sound of a steel blade scraping against its holder filled the sudden silence. "I will not ask again. Apologize."
Hawke turned to see Carver striding toward them with sword in hand, his heavy Templar armor clanking softly with each step he took. She watched in surprise when he walked past her, placing himself between her and the group of men. Did her brother actually believe she needed his help with this harmless bunch of uncouth males? They probably would have scurried away like rats on a sinking ship if she but conjured a few flames of fire within her hand.
"Carver- this really isn't necessary," she hissed in irritation. Of course, he just ignored her completely, which only served to further annoy her. She quelled the urge to box his ears as she had done on frequent occasions when they had been children.
Instead, she listened to the profuse and quickly mumbled apologies of the dockhands, watching with amusement when they hurried away- no doubt to spread the exaggerated tale of their encounter with a templar and a woman who had turned out to be the Champion of Kirkwall.
Carver slid his long sword back into its sheath on his back and turned around to face his sister. "You're late."
"I got here as soon as I could. It's not easy slipping out of the estate alone, you know." Frowning, she glanced over to the horizon, noting the sun's position. "And I'm not that late, brother. Must you whine about everything?"
Carver scowled. "I was stating a fact, not whining. You're the one who asked to see me, sister, not the other way around. The least you could do is to be here when you said you would. It wasn't easy for me to slip away from the Gallows either, but I managed to be here at the right time."
Hawke's lips pressed together in a thin line, her teeth clenched tight against the retort she was trying not to say. She reminded herself why she had asked for this meeting with her brother. She relaxed her jaw and inhaled slowly, then let out her breath with a soft sigh.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience of having to meet me at the docks, but I'm sure you understand why I could not go to see you at the Gallows." She crossed her arms across herself, shielding her rounded womb beneath her cloak as her brother's gaze dropped to her midsection.
"You are well, sister?" he inquired, his gaze lifting to meet her eyes. At her nod, he asked, "And the babe? It is healthy?"
"Your soon-to-be nephew is doing fine." She smiled at his startled expression. "Yes, I know the sex."
Carver stared at her perplexed. "But… how is that possible? How can you be so sure it will be a boy?" His brows drew together at the shadow that passed across his sister's face. "Sister…?"
"I had a…feeling that it might be a boy," she replied after a slight pause. She gave him another quick smile. "Then Anders confirmed that it actually was a boy. I'm not sure how he is able to do that- find out the sex of a child-but it seems to have something to do with why he is such a gifted Healer."
At the mention of Anders' name, Carver's expression hardened and he looked away from his sister's face. Hawke followed his gaze, out across the water to where the Gallows stood- the symbol of everything that she hated and feared.
"Carver…" she began slowly, "I need to talk to you about your visit to Aveline's office. You told her that Anders' methods have been drawing more attention to himself…that there is growing unease within certain sects of the Templar Order here in Kirkwall. I need to know if Anders is in any immediate danger from the templars."
Carver turned from her and walked a few paces until he reached the end of the wooden dock; he stopped and stood with his back towards Hawke. With a loud, exasperated sigh, she followed his lead and joined him at the dock's edge. When she reached his side, he turned his head to look at her.
"I wanted to make sure that our conversation was for our ears only," he explained.
Hawke glanced back over her shoulder and noticed that there were more than a few people milling around or working close by the area they had been occupying a few moments ago. Meeting her brother's eyes again, she looked at him with more than a glimmer of respect. It hadn't even occurred to her that people might have been listening to their conversation.
Carver gave her a thin smile. "Contrary to what you may think, I am not an idiot. I do happen to know what I'm doing, sister."
She cast a lingering gaze to the Flaming Sword insignia emblazoned on his breastplate. The armor he wore told a much different story, to her point of view, but she didn't think it necessary to revisit that argument again.
"What exactly has Anders been up to?" she asked, coming to the point of the matter. "As far as I'm aware he's been doing the same thing that he always has- that he and I have always done- giving mages a chance to find freedom away from the Circle."
Carver folded his arms. "Not every mage wants, or even deserves, this so-called freedom. The Circle and the Templar Order were established for a very good reason: To protect both mage and citizen from any harmful effects of magic, and to provide a safe and secure place where mages may learn how to control their craft. If Anders had his way, he would completely do away with it- and the Chantry as well. He tells the mages in the Gallows that they "must fight against the tyranny of all those that have oppressed them". He spreads nothing but sedition with all his talk that all mages should live free to do as they please- to be accountable to no man or authority. All you need to do is look at Tevinter to see what a disaster that would be. Even you must agree with that, sister," he beseeched her. He sighed in irritation when she didn't automatically agree.
"Anders is allowed his opinion, Carver. I do believe this is still a freedom that even we mages are afforded," she said with more than a touch of sarcasm. "His views may be unpopular to some, but that is no reason to brand him as a seditionist. Anders is just willing to fight against what is unjust." She stared at her brother, her eyes turning hard and cold. "But look who I am talking to; a templar." She spat out the word in distaste. "You- and the Order you so staunchly defend and are so proud to be a part of- are the very ones that have committed some of the biggest injustices against mages. You have joined a system that seeks to enslave mages, who treat us no better than second class citizens."
Hawke expected to see the anger in her brother's eyes, but she was unprepared for the hurt that also showed in his expression. The two siblings stared at each other in silence as the seconds turned into minutes. Carver finally broke the silence.
"You may hate me all you want sister, but I have finally found a purpose in this world, a place where I can make some sort of a difference. You may not believe me, but one of the reasons I joined the Order is to make sure that every citizen in Kirkwall-including mages like yourself- are protected and kept safe." Carver unfolded his arms and his eyes searched his sister's face. "Father named me after a templar that he admired and respected…I suppose I am just trying to live up to that name."
Hawke did not know what to feel anymore. She had been so angry and hurt for so long over Carver's decision to become a templar. It had felt as if he was betraying the memory of their father and their sister Bethany, and all that they had been. Carver knew how she felt about templars and about her….fears…yet he still joined them- become one of them. How was she ever supposed to forgive him? How could she make peace with such a decision?
Carver spoke again, as if he had read his sibling's mind. "Cat…? Are you ever going to forgive me? Can't we just move past this?"
She turned away from her brother and looked out across the sea. She had no answers: Not for Carver, not for herself.
"I love you, Kitty Cat," said Carver softly.
Tears came to her eyes at the familiar childhood nickname, and she blinked them back. "I always hated it when you or anyone else called me that," she replied. A small, wistful smile crossed her face at the memories the name had evoked.
"I know. That's why I kept using it." Carver gazed at his sister's profile as she stood looking out over the water. "Be well, sister. And please… don't let your friendship with Anders continue to blind you to how dangerous his actions have become."
Hawke did not reply. She heard him walk away, heading towards the mooring where the small boat was waiting to return him to the Gallows. Breathing in the salty tang of the sea air, she watched the sun as it came up over the horizon through eyes blurred with tears. "I love you too…" she whispered, knowing her brother was too far away to hear her words as they mingled, and then was lost, amidst all the other sounds and voices that filled the air.
She started and blinked as she felt her son kick sharply inside her womb. She had no idea how long she had been standing at the edge of the docks, lost in her memories and thoughts. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced up at the sun, noting that it sat higher in the pale blue sky.
Blood and Damnation! Fenris was bound to be out of bed now, and she could picture the irritated expression he would be wearing once he realized that she had left the estate without telling anyone where she had gone. She quickly put the image of his scowling face out of her mind, deciding that she would just deal with the repercussions- for there were always repercussions when it came to Fenris- after she had completed the rest of her morning's agenda.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned her back on the view of the Gallows and left the docks, heading in the direction of Darktown. It was time to find out for herself, whether Carver's concerns were real or imagined. Yet knowing Anders as well as she did, she was afraid that his desire to help other mages might be turning into an obsession: One that was slowly consuming him and pushing him to take extreme and dangerous risks.
Anders had changed over the years; she was not as blind to the transformations as Fenris often accused her to be. She could see that Anders was slowly losing himself to Justice's control and to his own need for vengeance…succumbing to the hatred that was born so early in his youth when the Templars had come for him. That day they had taken him against his will and sent him to live in the Fereldan Circle at Lake Calenhad, something that marred and forever changed Anders.
Hawke had never experienced the loss of her freedom, had never had to endure the helplessness of being locked away from family and friends…from the life that you had once lived. To be told what to do…where to go…even how to act. To have the free will that the Maker endowed to all men and women slowly stripped away from you and reduced to nothing by the templars and Circle life.
A cloud passed by the face of the sun, blocking out its warming rays for a moment; she shuddered as a sudden chill took hold. Even when the sun's light appeared once more, Hawke still felt a lingering coldness in her soul as she reflected on all that she knew about Anders' life while locked away in that Circle Tower… at the scars that had been left behind not only upon his body, but on his mind and spirit. She doubted that those types of scars would ever truly fade away, that time could ever heal such invisible wounds.
When Hawke arrived in Darktown, she headed straight to the clinic that Anders ran. She felt guilty for not stopping to talk to the various inhabitants of Darktown that called out to her as she passed, but a quick smile and nod would just have to suffice; she was determined to avoid anything that might distract her from her task. She had not seen Anders for weeks, and she needed to make sure that all was well where he was concerned.
She stopped at the foot of the steps that led to the upper level where the free clinic was located, taking a moment to catch her breath. She had seen the lit lanterns above the double doors, so she knew that Anders was inside. She hoped that he would be available to talk, but she was prepared to wait for however long it would take until she could speak to him in private.
Lifting the hem of her garments, she climbed the stairway and made her way to the entrance of the clinic. She paused, her hand at the door, when she heard the sound of voices raised in anger. All of them were male, and one of them was definitely Ander's irate voice.
She opened the door just enough to see into the clinic. Her heart dropped in her chest when she saw two templars standing before Anders, their backs to the entrance. Sweet Andraste! Were they here to arrest him? She hesitated, not sure what to do. Her eyes narrowed when one of the templars took a purposeful step towards Anders. Moving into the clinic, her hand outstretched, she just reacted without thought and on instinct.
The templar abruptly stopped in mid-stride when he hit the invisible barrier. He stumbled back and managed to catch himself from falling just in time. His companion looked at him in surprise but quickly recovered from his shock; he held up hand and placed it flat against the barrier, unleashing a counter spell- it dissolved in an instance.
"No more tricks, mage. You'll come with us now- or else," commanded the templar that had been thwarted by the invisible shield. He drew his sword, pointing it at Anders chest. "You won't get away with what you did last night! You'll answer to the Knight-Commander for your crimes."
"Whatever happened last night was not done by Anders, templar. Of that I can assure you," stated Hawke calmly despite the way her heart pounded within her chest.
She moved between Anders and the templar holding the blade. She heard Anders hiss of anger and felt his hand pull the back of her cloak as he tried to move her aside. She moved back a step and ground the heel of her boot on his toes. He let out another hiss- this one of pain- and promptly let go of the material.
"Champion," said the other, older templar. "My name is Ser Kendrick. We have never met, but Knight-Captain Cullen has spoken of you with great respect and admiration. Ser Reginald and I have orders to bring this mage – to bring Anders in to the Gallows for questioning." He shot a sideways disapproving glare at his fellow templar. "Ser Reginald, lower your sword at once."
Hawke relaxed slightly when the templar reluctantly lowered his blade, though the look he gave her put her on guard. She could feel the animosity radiating from this templar, and she imagined he would be more than happy to run his blade through both her and Anders. She gave Ser Kendrick what she hoped was a cordial smile for his intervention.
"What crime, exactly, is Anders being accused of?" she asked, ignoring the younger templar and directing her question to Ser Kendrick. He seemed more even-tempered than Reginald.
"He set fire to one of the storage rooms in the underground caverns beneath the Gallows," snarled Reginald. "Then while everyone was distracted, he kidnapped two of our Circle mages!" His dark, hard eyes flashed with unconcealed condemnation.
"Kidnapped is a strong word," replied Kendrick, giving his fellow templar a warning look. "Perhaps it would better to say that he helped two of our mages leave the confines of the Circle. In either case, Champion, we are required by Chantry law, and by the laws of Kirkwall, to follow all leads and bring any suspects to the Knight-Commander for questioning."
Hawke felt Anders' warm breath at her ear, whispering for her to stay out of it. She ignored him. "Well, if that's the case, then perhaps you should go find a valid suspect. Anders could not have done any of those things." She felt Anders' breath on her neck, but stamped her heel on his foot again before he could whisper anything else.
Ser Kendrick studied Hawke's calm face for a moment. "And pray tell, how do you know that it couldn't possibly be him?"
Hawke had been desperately trying to come up with a convincing reason why it could not have been Anders. She knew she would have to lie, and it would have to be a good lie, but the problem was that she never had been a good liar. She wiped her damp palms against the sides of her cloak, hoping that the templars would not notice her nervous fear.
"I know because Anders was with me all night."
"Dragonshit, Kendrick!" exclaimed Ser Reginald. He turned his head to look at the other templar. "You can't seriously believe her?" He snorted in derision and eyed Hawke, a sneer on his face. "So tell me- what exactly were the two of you doing all night?" His gaze slid insultingly over her body."
"None of your bloody business, templar!" yelled Anders. He put his arms around Hawke, pulling her back against him in an attempt to shield her from the templar's gaze.
Hawke was startled at Anders' actions for a moment, but she realized that it may actually make the rest of her lie more believable. She just prayed that Anders was in control long enough to play along with what she was doing. She felt his anger and hatred of the templars simmering just below the surface, and she feared that Justice was lurking within, just waiting to be let loosed.
"Shall I spell it out for you, Ser? Or, is it that you can't believe that a man would still find pleasure with a woman that is with child? There are many positions that work quite well… aren't they my love?" Hawke slid an arm around backwards, pulling Anders closer.
Ser Kendrick's eyes widened and he stammered, his face turning red. Reginald's face fell, and he looked incensed when Anders began to nuzzle the side of Hawke's neck.
"Yes, there are… and we only explored but a few last night." Anders said huskily against her neck. He gave her one last nuzzle and raised his head, giving the templars a small, tight smile.
Ser Kendrick cleared his throat a few times and then swallowed. He was having a hard time meeting Hawke's eyes. "Champion… if you swear that… that you were with this mage all night…and…" He gave a nervous cough. "…and that he was otherwise occupied… I will let the matter drop."
"Wait a minute- what about the elf? The one covered in all those strange markings! It's common knowledge that you and that elf have been carrying on!" Ser Reginald's look dared her to deny that fact. His smile grew when Hawke did not immediately answer.
"Who said he wasn't with us?" replied Anders smoothly. He grinned at the templars.
Hawke felt the heat stealing across her face at Ander's answer. This lie just kept getting worse! How in the Void was she ever going to be able to live this one down? Maker, she groaned inwardly, the rumors would just grow and grow once this conversation got out.
She had never been as embarrassed in all her life! She could hardly meet Ser Kendrick's gaze, anymore then he could meet hers. She could kick herself for not coming up with a less sordid lie… what had she been thinking?!
It was all his fault- Anders. If he had only told her what he had planned to do… she might have been able to find a better way to free those two mages. She definitely would have been able to come up with a more acceptable alibi for him.
And now the stupid ass of a mage had dragged Fenris' name into this lie!
Dwelling on her anger lessoned her embarrassment to some extent and she was able to show a calm exterior to the templars. It appeared that they had fallen for her ruse and after a few uncomfortable moments, they left the clinic to report to the Knight-Commander of their findings.
"Well, this is certainly a strange turn of events," remarked Anders. "I never dreamed when I woke up earlier this morning that I would acquire an entire lover before mid-day." Chuckling, he rubbed her stomach before withdrawing his embrace. "And a pregnant lover at that."
Hawke said not a word in response. She simple turned to face him, drew back her arm with a single fluid movement, and proceeded to smash her fist into his smugly grinning face.
"Son of a whore!" Anders took a step back in surprise. Glaring at her, he wiped away the trickle of blood that was running down the corner of his rapidly swelling lip. "What did I do?"
Her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "How can you stand there and ask me such a ridiculous question? Because of your foolish actions I now have two templars thinking I have been sleeping with you and Fenris!" She groaned aloud, lamenting, "What in the world am I supposed to tell Fenris?"
"You're the one that came up with that bright idea of an alibi, not I. If you remember, I told you to stay out of it," he pointed out to her with a grumble.
"Fine, I'll be sure to let the templars drag you off to the Gallows next time," she replied, glaring back at him.
She was furious with him. How could he not realize that his actions-on the Gallow's grounds, no less- would only make things that more difficult for the Circle mages? The templars would institute stricter measures, curtailing whatever meager freedoms they may still possess. It now would be almost impossible to liberate those mages from Kirkwall's Circle that wanted out.
"Why would you take such a foolish risk?" she asked. "What if you had been caught on the grounds while setting that fire? Or while helping those two mages escape?"
"I would have figured something out," he replied defensively. He winced and rubbed his bruised jaw. "Damn, you have a hell of a right hook," he muttered.
Ignoring the slight twinge of guilt she felt for injuring him, she gave him a heated look. "Did it even occur to you that had the templars apprehended you, my status as Champion would not have been enough to protect you?" His gaze slid away from hers and by his sullen expression, she knew that it had not.
"Blast it, Cat! They were going to make both of them into a Tranquil! Their fate had been sealed by Meredith because she sees Blood Mages where there are none!"
"And were they?"
Anders scowled at her, disgusted by her question. "Of course not- you know I detest mages that resort to such a foul thing. I would never help a true Blood Mage escape from the Circle."
Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared at him in angry silence, unsure what to believe anymore. Would he help a Blood Mage escape? His anger at such a suggestion seemed genuine. Yet Carver would have her believe that Anders no longer differentiated between law-abiding mages and workers of the dark arts when he spoke of freeing mages. She could never condone any actions that would allow a true Blood Mage to have such freedoms that would allow these workers of black magic to operate in Thedas unchecked. Moreover, in the past, Anders had agreed with such a view. She and Anders had always thought alike when it came to the mage/templar issue; in fact, she generally thought that they had similar views about most issues. Now, she was starting to feel that she didn't understand his point of views as well as she thought did. Maybe she didn't know him, as well as she had always believed.
And coming to this realization only made her that more furious at him. Other than her brother and Fenris, there wasn't another person alive that she loved more than Anders… who was considered a closer friend. The thought of losing him to the templars, to the Circle…or to something else… was unbearable.
"Blood and Damnation, Anders- what am I going to do with you!" She eyed the sudden grin that slowly made its way across his face. His thoughts were clearly going in a direction that- for his own sake- he would be wise to keep unexpressed. "By Andraste's Ashes, if you don't wipe that ridiculous grin off your face I'm going to punch you again," she threatened through gritted teeth.
Anders let out a short laugh then winced. Raising a hand to the bruised area of his face, he tenderly felt the part of his lip that had split, wincing again at the pain his exploration caused. "Bloody hell, that hurts."
Feeling another twinge of guilt, she snapped, "For Maker's sake, Anders. Just heal yourself." The sight of his rapidly swelling lip and bruised jaw stirred her compassion and her resolve to stay angry with him was starting to crumble.
"Maybe later. I rather like the idea of knowing that every time you look upon my marred handsomeness, you'll be feeling guilt and generally really bad for hurting me," he replied. "That should keep those claws of yours in check."
Hawke counted silently to ten and reminded herself all the reasons why he was her best friend, for there were days- like today- when she seriously wondered why.
The door of the clinic swung open and a petite woman, carrying a small child in her arms, entered. Anders turned to them, and seeing the hesitation in the female, he smiled and then bade her to come in. Hawke nodded when Anders excused himself from her presence and watched as Anders walked towards the woman and child.
Hawke watched as Anders spoke to the woman, listening intently to every word she said. Every so often, he would nod his head, or smile in response, and she noticed that his manner put the woman quickly at ease. After a short time, Anders took the child- a young girl- from the mother's arms and they all moved to the closest examination table.
Observing Anders at work, watching the interactions he had with the mother and child, Hawke could see how much he loved his work as a Healer. The compassion he had for those who were sick, or who were suffering, was immense and boundless. His care and concern for Kirkwall's less fortunate denizens was genuine, and a beautiful thing to behold.
Watching him as he ministered to the child, it reminded her why she had been drawn to Anders in the first place, why she loved and cared for him. There was an innate goodness in him, a light that the darkness, which warred within him, could never completely quell or diminish. That is why she would never abandon Anders, why she believed there was still hope for her friend.
Settling down on an empty chair to wait for Anders, she came to a decision- a decision that would undoubtedly cause more friction between her and Fenris- yet it was the only one she could make. She would continue to follow her heart and trust him, standing by Anders in all things; she would continue to fight by his side no matter what.
Looking around at the poor conditions of his living area here in the clinic, she also came to another decision; it was high time that Anders came back home to her estate. She needed to be able to keep a better eye on him, and she was not able to when he was staying here, or over at the Hanged Man with Varric.
Now she just had to figure out a way to tell Fenris.