AN: What's this? Another chapter update in less than a week? Yes, I am as surprised as you, but the cause of your surprise should also cause you enjoyment or entertainment as you read. So without further ado:

"The compound was not meant to be permanent. There are concerns that the Qunari influence is no longer…contained."

Michael looked back at Kitty Hawke, who smiled. They were in the Keep, about to enter the Viscount's inner office, when they overheard him conversing with Seneschal Bran. She gave the ex-spy a playful shove in the ribs.

"Well, I suppose I know what the Viscount wants to talk to us about."

As they pushed the door open and entered the room, the viscount looked up from his paperwork to gaze at the rogue and the spy, but replied to Bran.

"Was it ever? Kirkwall has enough tensions running between Templar and Mage, but these Qunari…"

He stood up, shaking his head.

"They sit like gargoyles, waiting for Maker-knows-what, and everyone goes mad around them. For over a year I have stood between fanatics, trying to keep the peace."

Viscount Dumar's gaze fell on a cluster of scrolls on his desk.

"And now this."

Kitty raised her hand.

"Erm, don't keep us in suspense, what gives?"

The viscount turned to his adjunct.

"Leave us."

Michael eyed Bran as he left, and listened as Dumar continued to speak.

"Meredith at my throat, Orsino at my heels, and a city scared of heathen giants…and said heathen giants who are scared of a simple spy."

That caught Michael's attention, and his head swiveled to stare at Dumar. Kitty spoke up.

"Well, if my boy-toy has said something naughty that has upset the Qunari, I promise he'll be suitably punished."

Michael gave the rogue a flat look, but the viscount lowered his eyes and smiled tiredly.

"No, Ser Westen, I don't blame you for riling up the Arishok and his followers. Truth be told I think their fear of you could be leveraged, given the right circumstances."

Viscount Dumar then raised his eyes, and leveled his gaze at both Kitty and Michael.

"As it turns out, the Arishok has requested you. By name. What did you do?"

Kitty shrugged.

"Oh, you know me. I can't help it if I make an impression."

The viscount glanced over to Michael and raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently not. It seems that you are meant to have influence above your station. I could compel you as your viscount to go, but instead I would ask; go to the Arishok. Speak to him, and give him whatever he needs to keep the peace. Would you do that for Kirkwall, Serah Hawke?"

Kitty shrugged.

"Oh, alright, didn't have anything else planned for the day, right Michael?"

The spy shrugged, and the viscount continued.

"And you, Ser Westen, I encourage you to use whatever causes the Qunari to fear you to bring this to a peaceful solution. Your animosity towards them is no secret, neither is it unwarranted, but I would ask you to try to be diplomatic."

Michael nodded crisply.

"Always ready to assist, sir."

The viscount returned to his desk.

"Your diplomacy is most appreciated. Appease the Arishok, take his demand and let him return to dormancy."

Michael followed Kitty out, and while the redheaded rogue skipped down the steps humming a merry tune, the spy's mind was weighing the viscount's words.

"The problem with having a diplomatic relationship based off appeasement is a bit like being in an abusive relationship, in both cases you're making nice with your counterpart in the hopes that violence won't ensue. Winston Churchill, the prime minister of England during World War II, summed it up best: 'Appeasement is like feeding a crocodile your companions in hopes that it will eat you last.' At best it's a short term solution. However, when the only other alternative is bloodshed, diplomacy through appeasement is not the worst choice."

His musings were interrupted by Hawke calling his name.

"Oi! Michael!"

He looked over to the rogue, who was at the Keep's gate.

"How's about we just go over and talk to the Arishok? Shouldn't be more than just a quick 'hello come in for tea and cakes' bit."

She saw the look Michael was giving her.

"Well, maybe not, but in any case it should be quick."

The spy shook his head.

"Fine, but we're stopping by the house, diplomacy or not I'm not going in unarmed."

Michael looked up and squinted through his sunglasses a the sun overhead as they stood on the docks. Hawke had met Fenris in Hightown and he agreed to accompany them, since of all of the rogue's companions he had the most knowledge of Qunari culture. The dwarf Varric decided to tag along since he was discussing Fenris's tax problems at the time. The spy's thoughts were interrupted as he heard Kitty speaking to Fenris.

"You know, I still have no idea why Isabella doesn't want to accompany us whenever we have to visit the Qunari compound."

Fenris shrugged.

"Maybe she and the Arishok have a history."

Varric chuckled at that comment.

"Broody, the way you say that it sounds like they had an affair or something."

Kitty paused at the dwarf's remark, and appeared thoughtful.

"Michael, you don't think that's possible, do you?"

The spy looked over to Kitty.

"Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me, given Isabella's penchant to chase anything that moves. I overheard Anders at the Hanged Man last week talking to Merrill, saying he had to treat the viscount's adjunct for some venereal disease he picked up from a certain pirate. He didn't name names, but I'm guessing he was talking about Isabella."

Hawke giggled.

"That and the fact that Isabella was there to take offense at his remark about the dangers of bedding pirates as they dock in strange ports."

As they mounted the steps, there was once again a red-painted Qunari warrior guarding the gate. He glared at Michael, then turned to Hawke.

"You may pass, Bas-Hawke."

As they entered she turned to Michael.

"Maybe it's just me, but the guards have been getting more friendly, don't you think?"

Michael glanced up at the guards that were in the courtyard. There seemed to be more of them than the last time. Once again, the leader of the Qunari was seated on his throne at the top of the stairs. He dismissed a warrior and stared down at Hawke.

"Serah Hawke."

Kitty beamed up at the taciturn leader.

"Messere."

The Arishok cocked his massive head to one side, then continued.

"When last we met, I did not know your name, did not care to."

He looked over to Michael, who stood impassively, his neutral expression hidden behind his sunglasses.

"Your fortunes have improved since last we met. The Qunari have not."

The Qunari leader shifted his massive frame slightly.

"I offer a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlock. You will want to hunt him."

Hawke looked mock aghast.

"You mean someone snuck in and stole your explosives? Perish the thought, think of all the lives that will be lost!"

The Arishok did not share in the rogue's ribald humor.

"There are many lives are at stake, Serah Hawke."

He paused to glare at the spy and his weapon.

"Unlike some others who have succeeded, the formula was a decoy; Saar-Quamek, a poison gas, not explosives. A small amount is deadly enough for your kind, but if the thief were an enterprising sort, one who would produce it in mass quantities for selling…"

Something clicked in Michael Westen's mind.

"The dwarf merchant, Jaravis…he's the thief?"

The Qunari leader turned his gaze to the spy.

"If he were foolhardy enough to product it in large quantities, Saar-Ataashi, it would threaten a district."

He turned his gaze back to Hawke.

"A courtesy, Hawke. You will want to hunt him."

Kitty turned to Varric.

"Any idea where this Jaravis might be?"

The dwarf shrugged.

"I had heard about a sell-off happening. Ser Thrask, that Templar fellow I occasionally share an ale with, mentioned that there was a commotion in the Coterie about some merchant having a massive sell-off. They don't usually do that unless they skip town."

Michael spoke up.

"Do you know where he is?"

Varric shrugged.

"Haven't been keeping up on the squirt, but Ser Thrask probably would know, or at least know where they're holding the sell-off."

The Arishok spoke again.

"Panahedan, Hawke. It will be interesting to see if you die. Although, given the deadly nature of the company you keep, I should think you will survive."

Kitty grinned and turned to leave.

"Well, always glad that the leader of these horned heathens gives me a vote of confidence, right Michael?"

Later that afternoon Hawke and her companions made their way across the bay to the Gallows. As Michael surveyed the grotesque statues and the chains, he remarked to himself that the place was just as dismal as the last time he and Hawke visited it. He saw Kitty pull a bundle out of her satchel.

"Before we seek out Ser Thrask, I really should give Bethany's gift."

She turned to a Templar recruit.

"Oi! Do you know if my brother is nearby? The family name is Hawke."

The female recruit nodded.

"He is not nearby but I can fetch him if you like."

Michael saw a glint appear in Kitty's green eyes, and she shook her head.

"Oh, don't bother, I'll tend to it."

The rogue took a few steps back and cupped her hands to her mouth. She took a deep breath, and then bellowed at the top of her lungs, causing both Michael and the recruit to flinch.

"WART! WHERE ARE YOU WART?! WAAAAAARRRT!"

When she finished Kitty was flushed, and looked over to see Michael giving her another disapproving look.

"What? That's how I used to get him to come back into the house back in Ferelden."

(AN: Aaaand Kitty continues to be Silly Hawke. This is a short chapter, but I figured I was a bit behind the fellow writer, so better short than late, I suppose. Should have another chapter up by next week. Until then!)