It was a beautiful evening as the sun slowly set. The crickets chirped as the summer heat started to fade. The world was coming back into autumn again, slowly, but surely.

Hawke's friends had all come to visit and have a small party in the backyard. Earlier this week, Fenris had made it three weeks sober. They had been on shift at the time and chose to celebrate a few days later on the Friday night.

Fenris was tired, but happily lying on Theron's blanket as the child played with his hair. Merrill and Varric were near by, Varric keeping an eye on his son as he danced with his wife to the record playing through the open kitchen door. Anders and Isabela were playing a game of Wicked Grace, both of their brows furrowed in concentration at trying to beat the other.

Hawke found herself on her deck chair, curled up sleepily. It had been a hard few weeks. More women were missing and it seemed every day a new report came across her desk. Now, a few lost pieces of jewelry would appear, even disturbingly a severed hand. But there was still no end in sight, and no pattern.

Fenris had been awkward at first to work with. When she looked at him, she saw the scars that she had traced so tenderly, she saw the hands that gripped her in passion. But that faded as their lives became focused on what they wanted. Hawke wanted to be with Isabela. Fenris needed to get better.

She looked over at him. He sleepily raised his arm as Theron crawled beside him, curling up in his loose sweat and resting beside him. Hawke smiled and stood, walking over to Isabela. She was pursed her lips as Hawke held her from behind.

"You're helping the mage cheat, aren't you?" She accused, "He's hired you as spy!"

"Bela," Hawke said after kissing the back of her neck, "Anders has no money."

"It's true," Anders agreed with a smirk, "Are you really going to cheat me out of my only living, Isabela? If I didn't win at cards every once in awhile, the clinic would have to go without the supplies you desperately need."

"Hush you," Isabela said proudly, smiling slightly as Hawke squeezed her hip, "I am your most fabulous client, you would miss me if I didn't stop by."

Hawke heard the phone ring. She kissed Isabela's ear and whispered, "I'll be right back."

"Good," Isabela said, "Now I can concentrate on earning back my living. I intended to spend this all at that Wonders of Thedas outlet. I'm so excited they opened one here."

Anders smirked, "Ah, how that makes me miss Denerim."

Hawke shook her head as she went into the kitchen.

"Hawke residence," She answered, twirling the chord around her finger.

"Hawke."

"…Cullen?"

"I kept trying to phone…but I could never get a hold of you. I couldn't be seen at the station. I need to talk to you."

"Okay," She said, "What is this about?"

"I can't tell you over the phone. Can I meet you tomorrow?"

Hawke paused, looking outside as Fenris picked up Theron, carrying him gently back into the house.

"Just me?"

"Yes. The less involved, the better. If you need security, tell your partner where you'll be. I need you to trust me. If that's what you need, so be it."

"Okay," Hawke agreed as Fenris walked into the house. She motioned Fenris to stay still while she scrambled through a drawer, finding a pen and paper. She scribbled down the address and time Cullen said and hung up the phone.

"What is it, Hawke?" He asked.

"I have a meeting tomorrow with Agent Cullen," She said quietly, "I have no idea what about. Just in case, I'm going to give you the details. If I haven't phoned you by 18:00 tomorrow, you put in a missing person's report and come after me."

"You don't think…" Fenris asked.

"I don't know what to think," Hawke admitted, "But I think he wants to help."

"You be careful," he warned.

She smiled, pinching Theron's cheek, "You look good with him."

Fenris rolled his eyes, "I'll never be the paternal type, Hawke. But he's a good kid. It's hard not to be fond of him."

Theron grabbed Fenris' chin and Fenris looked down at him with a slight smile.

Isabela called out to Hawke, "Anders is cheating! Constable Hawke!"

Hawke smiled and walked back into the backyard, vaguely noticing Fenris' eyes following her.

oOoOoOoOoOo

It was a surprisingly cool day for August. Hawke wrapped herself in a cardigan over her summer dress. She even put on her fancier shoes, a pair of flats with a bow on them. She knew the less she looked like a cop, the safer she would be.

She passed Leandra on the way out and her mother whistled slightly. Hawke felt herself blush.

"Have you got yourself a proper gentleman caller?" Leandra asked, "It's about time. I see how you look at Theron. You're ready for a husband and a baby of your own."

"Mom," Hawke said, blushing, "I've just got a meeting, that's all."

"Oh," Leandra smiled, "Is that what they call it these days?"

Hawke found herself blushing further as she made her way out to the car.

Cullen had asked to meet her in a park in Hightown, near an elementary school she often passed by on patrol. Children were playing on the jungle gym, their parents chatting with others, comparing gossip from their own circles.

She barely recognized Cullen sitting on a bench near the edge of the playground, dressed in jeans and a faded grey t-shirt. He walked over to her side once he saw her, taking her arm in his.

"It's safer if people think we are on a date," he said softly, "Excuse my forwardness."

"Of course," she replied, letting him lead her over to a small fountain nearby. They sat on the edge of it, the babbling water covering their soft voices from the others around them.

"I have information for you," Cullen said quietly, "Unless you and I work together, there may be war with the Qun."

Hawke tried to hide her shock as she moved closer to Cullen, "I don't understand."

"You have seen the tension in this city. It has gotten more relaxed these past few months, but that will not last long. The Chantry has been in talks. Many of the faithful are converting to the Qun; they are growing popular in the city. Some in the Chantry feel that their followers are being corrupted by the heathen faith, that they are losing ground. You remember Dumat's son?"

"Seamus," she replied, "Of course."

"It is known that he has gone to a monastery to become a priest. But the rumour is that this is not his will…there is a woman in the Chantry, she is trying to create war with the Qun, to show the faithful of their evil ways. She wants to create a purge of all Qun from the city. I still cannot prove her actions and I cannot go forth on my own."

"Why not?" she asked, "Wouldn't the Chantry take the word of a CBI agent over a police officer?"

"I need to keep…a low profile," Cullen said softly, "There are longer term goals to think of."

He looked away from her and it slowly dawned on her.

"My sister…tell me what really happened."

"It was as I said before. When they caught her…they wanted to give her the brand, your friend too. I was the one who phoned the police."

"You're working with the mages?" She whispered.

"I work for reform," he said gently, "There is corruption in this city, but it comes from those running it. I have no love for the Qun, but many will die if we do nothing. I have no love for blood magic, but many will die if we continue to hunt mages as we do…I saved your sister. I assaulted three other officers to protect her. I got her to Anders. I have tried to keep him safe…but that is not always easy. I do not think mages should run free without training or guidance…but that is no longer what my agency does, I'm afraid."

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to speak to the Arishok. Tell him he is to report any disturbances to his people to you and not the rest of the officers. Anything out of place, they are to inform you. This Sister Petrice…I do not know what she is planning, nor do I have access to Seamus to see if he is still well. But perhaps we can stop her still if we watch from inside and out."

Cullen stood, "I should go. You should also tell your friend that you were never in danger."

She looked over to where she saw Fenris sitting on a nearby bench, pretending to read the Kirkwall Sun. Cullen kissed her cheek and she blushed slightly. As he left, Fenris put down his paper and walked over to her.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Well," she said, a bemused look on her face, "That was unexpected."

oOoOoOoOo

"Fenris, we've been here for hours. Let's just go. I want to go see that new picture with the good looking army men."

"Hold on," Fenris muttered, scanning through the microfilm, "I know it is in here somewhere. Just give me a few more minutes."

"That's what you said an hour ago," Hawke complained, loud enough a librarian shot her a dirty look. Hawke whispered, "Do you even know what you're looking for?"

"I remember an article that mentioned Sister Petrice. I remember it was last June in the Kirkwall Sun. I think that's fairly accurate. I read the paper everyday for a reason, Hawke."

"If you had just written it down, then maybe we would not have been in this mess."

"And flip through a 500 page notebook for a scribble? No thank you. I know it's here. I just need to look through another week of papers. It must have been at the beginning of June."

Hawke grumbled, sitting down beside Fenris. He nudged her, "Go find yourself a book or a magazine. It might still be awhile…it might have been April."

"Ugh," Hawke complained, standing up.

She wandered over to 800s and sat on the floor of the newer volumes of poetry. She started to remember fondly those days at the factory, coming home with a new volume about sex and love and war.

She picked up one she had not read, the ink in it still new from being catalogued. She flipped open, a single sentence bolded: I am with you in Rockland.

Hawke curled up in the aisle, resting her head on a shelf as she continued. She heard Fenris cry out, "There!" and a mumbled apology.

She put the book back and wandered over to him as he frantically scribbled down information to carry to the librarian.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I'll show you in a minute," he promised, "I just need a printed copy."

They waited by the microfilm projector as the librarian returned with a sheet of paper.

"Thanks," Fenris said, handing the paper over to Hawke.

It was on the fifth page of the paper, just behind an ad for a type of dish soap. A picture of a blonde woman in the habit of an initiate. A small caption said, "Chantry Sister cleared of all charges." A short description discussed a Sister Petrice being accused of holding a Qunari mage hostage, but no evidence had been found to convict her.

"We'll still have these files at the station," Fenris said, "We might be able to find something they didn't know about a year ago."

"You do have an amazing memory," Hawke replied.

"One of us had to be the brains," he said with a smirk.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Hawke," Isabela muttered over the phone, "You said you would be back tonight. I never thought I'd have to ask you to keep me company."

Hawke flushed slightly and she turned away from Fenris, "I think we've nearly cracked it, Bela."

"Kitten, come on. You can go back in tomorrow. I miss you…and you know how I get when I start missing you."

A heat flushed through Hawke's skin and her heart beat quicker, "I'll try to get over there before 10 or so."

"I don't know if that's good enough…I may be all worn out by then."

"Damn it, Bela," she whispered into the phone, "This is important. Don't tease me like this. This is just mean."

"You like it, Hawke."

Isabela hung up on her and she turned back to see Fenris sitting at his desk, raising his eyebrows up at her. He flipped over the page as she took a deep breath and sat back down at the desk.

"Anything interesting?" She said with a feigned smile.

"This is going to take awhile," Fenris admitted, taking a drink of his coffee, "Are you sure you're in for the long haul?"

Hawke thought briefly to Isabela and sighed, "I guess I have to be."

oOoOoOoOo

Hawke woke, realizing she had fallen asleep on her desk and removed the paper stuck to her cheek. She looked over the desk to see Fenris curled up on the floor, using his motorcycle jacket as a pillow.

She looked at the piece of paper in her hand, trying to wipe off the smudged bits. It was a news article from a few weeks ago. Sister Petrice was making an appearance at a local school. She was sitting in her modest black dress, her hair pinned back with the black veil that was customary for her age and rank.

Something bothered her about the photo. She felt that there was something in this article, something that she just wasn't seeing. She stood up and went to the washroom, splashing cold water on her face. She looked at her watch, realizing it was just past 5 in the morning.

She went back to Fenris and kicked him gently. He grumbled and flipped over, looking up at Hawke.

"Come," She said, "We're going to Mass. We need to go get changed."

They had taken the motorcycle and parked a few blocks away from the Chantry. Hawke dressed in a demure black dress, her hair pinned back modestly. Fenris had dressed to cover his tattoos, his hair even properly combed.

Even though it was dark and 6am, the street grew busy as the faithful went to the first Mass of the Sunday. Hawke and Fenris slipped among the crowd, discreetly separating from each other.

Hawke's shoes tapped against the hardwood floor as she walked through the building, greeting those who stopped her to wish her the grace of Andraste. She made her way past the sanctuary, pretending to be going to help out in the kitchens. She managed to sneak her ways upstairs, heading towards the library. She paused as she passed the space, looking at the refilled shelves.

The Chant was beginning. She looked over the railing, locating Fenris near the back as he observed the ceremony quietly. She continued to sneak through the upper floors, reaching the empty offices of the Revered Mother and some of the higher sisters. She paused, looking around briefly, before she took out one of her hairpins and picked through the lock on the Revered Mother's door. When she heard a successful click, she pushed the door open slightly. She made her way in the dim light to her filing cabinet.

She made short time scouring for files on the Sisters, finally coming to Sister Petrice's. There was nothing remarkable at first. She had joined the nunnery at the age of 16 after growing up in Kirkwall. Good family, all still alive. She kept looking until she managed to stumble upon what she needed.

It was a communiqué between the Revered Mother of the Kirkwall Chantry and the Revered Mother for all of the Free Marches, regarding how Sister Petrice should be punished within the Chantry, even if they managed to keep her out of the legal system. There was a Qunari, a mage, who Petrice argued she was protecting when others of his kind attacked them. The details were unclear, but at the end, Petrice remained unscathed while the mage was dead.

She flipped through the files further, reaching to a letter only a few weeks old between the Revered Mother and Petrice. It was a photocopy of the transferring of Seamus Dumat from the Revered Mother's custody to Petrice's. It gave the location of the facility, a monastery just south of Sundermount. It also gave instructions for the handling and transporting of a new potential convert to the same facility. She didn't recognize the name.

Hawke knew she didn't have much time, so she started replacing the files when she came across the most recent addition to the file. It was a quick note, scratched with a bad pen instead of typed as the others were.

All it read was such:

September 19th.

Hawke frowned. That was only three weeks away now. Why this date? She could not wait longer and replaced the note as well, relocking the filing cabinet. She snuck out, locking the door behind her and replacing the pin in her hair. She went back the same way she came in, her shoes tapping lightly on the floor.

It was a particularly passionate part of the Chant when she returned to Fenris' side, the tenor's voice echoing throughout the chamber. They exchanged the briefest of looks and she nodded slightly to him.

As the music receded, Sister Petrice came forth to give her sermon, motioning for the faithful to sit in the pews. Hawke sat, her heart racing slightly, and Fenris squeezed her hand.

"Faithful," Petrice addressed, an arm stretched out to the crowd, "We come today in remembrance of Andraste and the Maker's love for her. We remember the sacrifices made in the pursuit for the kingdom of God here on Earth."

Petrice turned and Hawke could have sworn the woman's piercing blue eyes were on her as she said, "We remember that the flames are as just now as they were then."

As Petrice continued her sermon on the need to trust in the Maker's plan, Hawke realized she knew who the potential convert was. The benediction went forth and all stood to greet their neighbours as the Mass came to a close. As Fenris awkwardly embraced her, Hawke whispered to him, "I know what she's planning."