The funeral was lovely, but Hawke found himself unable to speak when he watched his mother's body burning. He felt Merrill rubbing her arm around him for comfort and he did appreciate it. All his friends and those people who had known his mother when she lived in Kirkwall gave both him and Gamlen their sympathies.
They were turned back to his estate for food and drink, but Hawke didn't feel like in the mood and was sat in his study. He then saw Aveline entering with a bottle of wine in her hand.
"Hawke," she said giving him a sympathetic look. "I don't care what else is going on. We haven't spoken about Leandra. How are you?"
"I have a smile on my face," said Hawke putting a brave face on. "That should be enough for most people."
"That doesn't work on me. I knew her, too. I want to think my mother was like," said Aveline as she sat down next to him. "I just have flashes of… impossible long hair. But my father…" She paused and looked at him, "would you like to hear one thing?"
Hawke looked up. "You've never talked about him."
"My father trained me in all the skills he had been forced to give up. He spent everything to get me into Cailan's services." She closed her eyes and looked at him. "Do you know what I remember? When he read to me—stupid things, dragons and heroes—he wouldn't turn a page until I reached over and took his hand. That big man made every step of the story my choice. I love that.
"He died of the wasting in a Denerim ward… those last weeks, I read to him. I had to take his hand to turn the pages. And I couldn't tell if he was too weak, or if it was the same old game. He smiled at that, at his big girl." She laughed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this." She then looked at the wine bottle she bought in. "Drink?"
"A glass for those we've lost," said Hawke.
Aveline smiled. "All right then. Benoit du Lac. And Leandra Hawke." She then poured them to glasses. "Don't let anyone tell you when to move on. Take their hand and say 'my choice'. That's all I have. I'll miss too."
The children then took a drink and Hawke felt himself cheered up, he knew his mother wouldn't want him to wallow in self-pity and he was determined to keep the city safe in her honour.
The next day Hawke gave Varric his father's signet ring, which Bartand pawned in order to pay for the expedition and gave Isabela a bottled ship. He then heard from his miners that there were massive problems within his mine which involved, giant spiders. Undead. Arcane horrors. Rusty pickaxes.
Afterwards he went to the Chantry and saw Sebastian and Elthina arguing with one another.
"I'm given it all up! I made a vow to the Chantry, and it was wrong to turn my back," said Sebastian.
Elthina shook her head. "Sebastian, listen to yourself. You're as impulsive now as the day you turned away from us. Do you think the Maker wants another rashly-spoken vow that you'll abandon when the next passion takes you?"
"I will not—"
"This is your life, child. Don't spend it being blown about like a weathervane." She then noticed Hawke approaching them. "And here's Hawke. Come to goad you into further heroics, no doubt."
Hawke watched as Elthina walked off and wondered what he did to get such a cold reception. "The grand cleric upset with you?"
"She thinks I'm fickle," Sebastian explained. "But I mean it! I know you don't agree, but I can't continue to break my oath. And for what? Why would I rule Starkhaven and deal with jackals like Lady Harimann for the rest of my life?"
"Do you see yourself as a prince or a priest?"
Sebastian shrugged. "That's exactly the question I've been praying for guidance about. When I think of going to Starkhaven… calling on allies like Flora Harimann and all the corrupt, scheming nobles…" He sighed. "My throat swells shut in horror. When I think about saying, I'm at peace."
"You should ask yourself what's best for your people, not just for you," Hawke advised.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "I do not have hubris enough to imagine it matters to the common people who rules them. Someone will take the reins. The fields will be planted, the crops gathered. No one will notice that a Vael lives and isn't there. And I can devote my life to the Maker's will on Thedas."
Hawke shook his head. "I can't believe you'd turn your back on Starkhaven now. After all we've done."
"I've been praying for guidance and had nothing. I cannot return to Starkhaven—and subject my people to war—without a clear sign that it's the Maker's will."
Hawke didn't know why, but he had a feeling that Sebastian would soon regret saying those words.
He spent the afternoon helping in the clinic. Once the work started, the slight awkwardness between him and Anders vanished, and things seemed to settle back to normal or at least what passed for normal in Krikwall.
After the clinic was emptied, he glanced over at Anders. "I brought you something. It's shiny and subversive. I thought you'd like it." Hawke tossed the parcel at Anders.
Anders caught it, and smiled. "You got me a gift? I hardly think I've done anything to deserve that. Is it a…" He looked down at the contents. "That's a Tevinter Chantry amulet. Do you want me to get executed? It's sacrilege to wear those in any land under the Divine."
"The Divine condemned their Chantry because they freed mages from the Circle," said Hawke. "I thought you might sympathise."
"I like it. Maybe not on the outside of my clothes—I'm not that eager to face the hangman's noose—but I appreciate the thought." He turned it around in his hands contemplatively. "I never really thought about what life would be like in the Tevinter Chantry. In the Circle, they make it sound like the Void itself. The Black Divine, stalking Thedas, making it unsafe for kittens and virgins."
"I haven't noticed too many of either in Kirkwall."
Anders laughed. "And fewer every day, I suspect. I appreciate the gift. Perhaps one day I can return one as meaningful."
Merrill was sitting with her head in her hands. It was a few moments before she realized he was in the room. "Oh. Hawke. Come in. I…" She sighed. "Was just…" She turned to face him. "Am I crazy?"
He probably wasn't the best person to ask that question. "Yes, but in a good way."
"I thought the arulin'holm would fix everything. The mirror would work, and everything would be right again…" She sighed. "But I keep dreaming of Pol's face. Everyone that I care for thinks I'm a monster."
He sat next to her, and draped an arm over her shoulders. "It's hard to imagine someone more lovable than you."
She snuggled into him for a moment. "That's so untrue. I can think of someone…" She then looked up at him. "I… you've been so good to me. Someday, I'll make this up to you, lethallin."
Somehow Isabela managed to convince him to hold a Wintersend party in his estate. He had a feeling that it was mostly just to cheer him up, but he could hardly dismiss it.
Orana took the bottle of wine Fenris offered, and went back to fussing over the table. She'd really outdone herself on the meal. Isabela was deftly moving through the room, attempting to keep Aveline between her and Gamlen.
"I think dinner is ready, master."
"I'll get everyone to the table. And don't call me master."
"Yes master."
Merrill sat next to Aveline, chatting away amiably. "You must have really liked the Hawke family."
"Why do you say that?"
"You came all the way from Lothering with them, didn't you? And they're not even your clan."
"Humans don't have clans, Merrill."
"Exactly! You came so far together, and you didn't even have a Keeper to make you get along."
"So your Keeper tells you to stop kicking each other, or she'll turn the aravel around?"
"Sometimes she also warns us to stop pulling hair," Merrill said.
Bodhan served a second course, and they all fell too happily, sharing the occasional story. Hawke smiled. It was good to see everyone enjoying themselves. It would have seemed that Isabela's plan to cheer up had worked successfully
"Does the city guard never ask where you wander off to with Hawke?" Fenris asked Aveline.
"I am on a 'special investigation'."
"And what does that make me?" Hawke asked.
"Someone who is helping me with my investigation."
Fenris chuckled. "How benevolent of you, Hawke."
"Well, we do investigate," Hawke pointed out.
After the meal, Orana got out her lute and played for them. Isabela dragged Anders into a dance, and a heartbeat later, Donnic did the same to Aveline. Hawke bowed, and offered Merrill his arm to enter the dance. It was most in joyous and carefree that Hawke felt the pain of losing his mother subsiding.
As the evening began to wind down, Donnic cleared his throat nervously. Then, much to the delight of everyone present, he went down on one knee and asked Aveline to marry him. It took her three tries to get out a yes that wasn't a squeak and that what made Hawke's day.
A letter from the Viscount had Hawke heading into the Keep. However before we met with the Viscount, he paid Aveline a visit and discovered she was having a meeting with Seneschal Bran.
"It's a fine suit," she said not even looking at it.
"The finest," said Bran gesturing to the guardsmen wearing a shiny new plate of armour.
"Break it down. Distribute it."
Bran now at his eyes. "The viscount requires parade armour for his inspections."
"Then stuff it and mount it where he can see it. I wear the uniform of the guard," Aveline spat.
"His Excellency will not be pleased."
"His Excellency can mount it."
With that both Bran and the guardsmen left her office and she turned turning to him. "Trouble, Hawke?"
"Seems like you have enough."
"You don't know the half of it." She shook her head in frustration before glaring at him. "And why don't you, by the way? Why aren't you tail deep in the problems of this city? Sure you do good, but petition a title, take a job. The guard is always looking."
"Don't blame me for not being you. I'd make a poor guard."
"Well, we agree on that." Her smile softened the glare. "I don't really see you taking my orders. Besides, you won't catch me saying you don't have an effect. You've certainly had one on Hightown."
"But?" She was worried about something.
"Maybe it's time to get serious. Before the option isn't your own." She leaned on her desk.
"You don't want me as sour and dour as you. You need a counterpoint."
"I don't think I've asked to be made the butt of your jokes."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Donnic."
She folded her arms, and then conceded the point. "Okay, sometimes I have asked for it. I do wish there was more time for… levity. It comes so easy to you. Maybe a little too easy. That's all I'm saying."
Hawke went up to the Viscount's office Viscount Dumar was pacing. "It is apparently not enough that the Qunari define my political life. They must also infect what I hold personal." He turned to face Hawke. "It is my son, Saemus. The life you saved, he would now squander by converting to the Qun. He has left for the Qunari Compound." Dumar gave him a beseeching look. "Please, Serah Hawke. Convince Saemus to come home."
"Did anyone else see him leaving for the compound?"
Viscount Dumar's shoulders slumped. "He made no secret of it. I'm sure he intended it as another of his 'statements' about closer relations." He folded his arms. "Your example inspired him. I might agree, but now is not the time. These matters are…" He sighed. "Delicate."
"He is of age. The decision seems rightly his." If it was genuinely what Saemus wanted… He wasn't close with the young man, but they were friends in their way.
"I want to let him find his way, but in my position…" Dumar leaned on his desk. "He's taken a great deal of inspiration from you. I want to allow his idealism, but not blindly. At best, my opponents will claim that my office is now in Qunari hands. At worst…" Dumar's voice broke slightly. "I lose my son."
Hawke had a bad feeling about this the other hunch the Viscount new as well. "You know this will only end in trouble."
"Fitting. That's where it started." He then gave him a hopeful look. "My son is not foolish. He will listen to reason. And you are in the best position to offer that opportunity. Please, do what you can."
Aveline, Sebastian, and Merrill were waiting for him when he left the Viscount's office. He filled them in on the move, and started heading for the compound. They were moving through Lowtown when mercenaries attacked. And were promptly splattered all over the alley. "So was that anti-Qunari, anti-viscount, or Saemus himself not wanting to be rescued?"
Hawke shook his head. "Saemus isn't the type. Let's go." And Saemus and the Arishok both had a very good idea of their capabilities. Neither would have been foolish enough to send a small band of half-competent thugs.
"Serah Hawke." The Arishok didn't appear surprised to see him.
"I'm here about the viscount's son."
"Are you?" The Arishok settled back on his bench. "In four years I have made no threat, and fanatics have lined up to hate us simply because we exist. But despite lies and fear, bas still beg me to let them come to the Qun. They hunger for purpose. The son has made a choice. You will not deny him that."
No. He wouldn't, but sadly was not up to him. "No doubt you can see the advantage of having the Viscount's son at arm's reach."
"He is no longer the Viscount's son. Viddathari give up their lives for certainty only Qunari know."
"You would not take advantage of his connections?" Hawke asked sceptically.
"The Qun may demand that advantage, but I do not. It was his choice to be educated. He is not my prisoner." The Arishok gestured. "He is not even here. He went to his father. Ask the viscount why he would send you and a letter both."
Hawke blinked. "That seems… strange." He could feel a chill trying to climb up his spine.
"They are meeting at the chantry. A last, pointless appeal, I assume."
Sebastian shook his head. "The viscount has not tried to involve the Chantry before."
"No." Hawke sighed. "But we know who would. Mother Petrice." He really should have just killed her.
The Arishok frowned. "A suspect in many things. If she has threatened someone under my command again, there is only one response."
On that, they could agree. "I've had about enough of Petrice. Several times over.
"A threat against viddathari can have only one answer. I will suffer only one outcome." The Arishok gave him a nod. "I will be watching, Hawke. The demand of the Qun is clear."
They ran as fast they could to the Chantry, but it was too late. Saemus was already dead, his body kneeling behind of the statue of Andraste body Hawke placed a hand on him and he toppled over.
He then heard Petrice's voice. "Serah Hawke, look at what you have done." She sounded smug. "To pounce upon the viscount's son, a repentant convert, in the chantry itself? A crime with no excuse." She gestured at the armed men with her. "Your Qunari masters will finally answer."
Slowly, he rose to his feet. "You've been a headache, but outright kill someone? That's new for you."
She narrowed her eyes. "He deliberately denied the Maker! How many would have followed him if he went unpunished?" She gestured. "And yet, even this sympathiser will inspire vengeance when his brutal murderer is exposed."
Hawke couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You won't get the Qunari ousted, you'll get a slaughter. On both sides."
"To die untested would be the real crime. People need the opportunity to defend faith. Starting with you." She turned to the people with her. "Earn your reward in this life and the next. These heretics must die."
Hawke sighed. With the exception of a couple templars, she was sending unarmored men against him, Merrill, the Prince of Starkhaven, and the Captain of the Kirkwall Guard. While Sebastian picked off a few targets. He and Merrill guarded one set of stairs while Aveline stood on the other. Hawke just shrugged, and called up a tempest, forcing any who wanted to try their luck at him to first pass through a gauntlet of lightning.
Sebastian gave voice to a similar sentiment. "Maker preserve their stupid, stupid souls."
Petrice led Grand Cleric Elthina into the hall. "Do you see, Your Grace? Traitors attacking the very core of the Chantry. They defile with every step."
Elthina's eyes traced over the state of the room. Her gaze went first to Sebastian, then to Aveline, and then to Hawke. "There is death in every corner, young mother. It is as you predicted." Her eyes narrowed. "All too well."
"Forgive me, Your Grace," said Hawke bowing. "But you must know the truth about what happened here."
"She's on to you, Petrice." Gabriel smiled. "Quick, lie harder." Was Petrice just completely oblivious to who he was with?
"Don't you spout your Qunari filth. This is a hand of the Divine," Petrice spat.
"I have ears, Mother Petrice." Elthina's voice was firm, a mother tired of misbehaving children. "The Maker would have me use them."
Hawke gave her an apologetic look. "Viscount Dumar's son is dead, killed here in your name."
She closed her eyes for a moment, sorrow filling her features. "I'm sure my name won't like that." She turned to look at Petrice, her pale eyes cold. "Petrice?"
"Saemus Dumar was a Qunari convert. He came here to repent and was murdered." Petrice stumbled over the lie.
"It's a ruse, Your Grace. Saemus was killed set people against the Qunari," Hawke said. He gestured at the bodies. Sebastian stood near the still form of Saemus.
Petrice actually shook a fist at him. "This is no longer a matter of heathens squatting in the docks. People are leaving us to join them!"
"And we must play them like any other." Elthina cut Petrice off.
"They deny the Maker," Petrice said, her eyes hot with hatred.
"And you diminish Him, even as you claim His side." Elthina's face was calm with disapproval. "Andraste did not volunteer for the flame." She turned back towards them. "Serah Hawke, you stand with the captain of the guard?" He saw Petrice's eyes widen as he nodded. It was clear that she had no idea who Aveline was. Elthina returned his nod. "The young mother has erred in her judgment. A court will decide her fate. The Chantry respects the law, and so must she."
"Grand Cleric?" Petrice's face was shocked. Had she actually thought of herself as some kind of diabolical genius? Gamlen could have plotted this better. "Grand Cleric!" She stared beseechingly as Elthina started back up the stairs. Then she turned to face them. Her eyes suddenly widened as she caught sight of something over his shoulder, and an arrow suddenly appeared in her chest. She fell to her knees.
Hawke turned to see a Qunari archer fire a second arrow, this one catching Petrice between the eyes. He sighed and the man looked at him. "We protect those of the Qun. We do not abandon our own."
"Please," Elthina's voice came back through the room. He looked up at her. Her facial expression hadn't changed at the sight of the Qunari or the dead Petrice. "Send for Viscount Dumar."
He stood protectively as Dumar cradled his son's body. Below, servants were removing the other corpses. "My son," Dumar said softly, tears falling from his eyes. "Murdered in the heart of the chantry, by those who held a sacred trust. What hope for this city, when we fail our own so completely?"
Hawke wished he knew what to say. "The Arishok is still here, Excellency. You must be ready to stand up to him."
"I cannot. I have already failed where it mattered most. Please, Hawke. Leave me."
He hesitated a moment, then glanced over at where Elthina stood. She nodded to him. He returned the gesture, then followed his companions out of the Chantry.
"Schisms and conspiracies within the Chantry itself." Cassandra paced.
"A perfectly normal situation then," Leliana sighed. "One that went entirely too far. A reoccurring theme in Kirkwall."
Cassandra nodded. "Could the Resolutionists have played a role in this as well?"
Leliana nearly snorted. "Give them some credit, Cassandra. Had they, I'm sure they could have come up with a far better plan than 'accuse the Prince of Starkhaven, the Champion of Kirkwall, a Dalish elf and the Captain of the Kirkwall Guard of being Qunari supporters'."
"That's…" Cassandra smiled. "A very good point."
