Chapter 35: The Peace

"You okay Hawke?"

Moira glanced down at Varric. The concern on his face was not something she got to see very often.

The look made her smile.

"Worried about little old me, Varric," she said dryly, "I'm touched."

The dwarf chuckled.

"Just wanted to make sure that you were not going to go to the Chantry and do something stupid," he said, "Not that I would blame you, not after what that bitch pulled."

Moira's eyes narrowed.

She would be lying if she said that she had not considered tracking down Sister Petrice and her little helper Ser Varnell, Templar or no Templar, what the two of them had done what they had tricked her and her friends into doing…

Even the most gentle of souls would have at least considered heading up to Hightown for a little payback.

She, Varric and Aveline had just left the Qunari compound. Considering that their latest adventure had ended with a company of Qunari soldiers ending up dead, she had thought it wise to go to the Arishok, clear the air, so to speak.

She already had enough enemies in this city; she had no desire to make the Qunari an enemy as well. Arvaarad and his men had attacked her first, not caring about what had brought them all together. The Qunari officer had panicked when he realized that she was an unbound mage, he had died shouting that she had tried to poison his control, infect him with demonic influence.

Moira shook her head.

It seemed that the Qunari feared magic as much as the rest of Thedas did. She was not sure if she should take comfort in that knowledge or not. In the end, it had not mattered, Arvaarad was dead, as were his soldiers, and the Saarebas they had been sent to recover had killed himself…

Hawke frowned slightly.

And all because a chantry sister believed that the peace between the Qunari and Kirkwall would not last.

IOI

It had all started out so innocently. Moira and Aveline had been on their way to the Hanged Man. Aveline, through her contacts, had just arranged for a boy name Pryce and his sisters to leave Kirkwall. The boy had been working for Hawke's old boss Athenril, and had nearly died in a Coterie set trap. Hawke had killed the coterie, but rather than return the goods the boy had been trying to move, she let him take it, the coin that the goods would fetch would serve well to help set the boy and his family up with a new life, one that did not include smuggling for Athenril.

Hawke had lied to her former employer, telling her that the coterie had gotten the goods, and that there was no sign of Pryce. The elven smuggler had bought the story, or at least seemed to. Moira still had enough friends in Athenril's organization that if she ever did learn the truth, Hawke would find out ahead of time, and with luck and the success of their expedition, she would be more than able to pay her back with interest, if it came to that, not that she suspected that it would.

Despite what people said about the elf, she was bit more soft hearted than most people thought. Hawke did not think that she would take any revenge on the boy. She had come to respect Moira enough that if any problems did arise, she would come to her about it.

Hawke was not above aiding her old boss, not if it helped keep the peace.

The sun had just set when the two of them had spotted a chantry sister speaking with one of the many thugs that worked the streets down here. Both Hawke and Aveline had had experience with him, though their dealings had come from the opposite sides of the law. The man had a reputation for taking on a job, and simply killing his employers when they showed him the money that they were offering.

Moira shook her head as she watched the sister follow the man into a dark alley.

"Another sad Lowtown story about to take place," she said dryly.

Aveline, being Aveline, had decided to not let the matter stand. She stormed into the alley with Moira close behind them. They arrived in time to save the sister and make sure the thug and his boys wouldn't be trying this ever again. The sister, a woman calling herself Petrice, had thanked them both, and offered them the job that she had just approached her would-be murderers with.

Hawke had been surprised, the woman had nearly died, yet she was still looking to recruit. The fact that they had just met should have set off at least some warning bells, but…still…she had been willing to listen. They only needed a few more gold to finally start for the deep roads. Helping a chantry sister seemed to be a good idea, after all, when had anyone heard of a chantry sister doing anything illegal?

As it turned out, they had thought wrong.

They had gone to the Hanged Man first, fetching both Fenris and Varric. Isabela was off somewhere, and Merrill was likely still in her little hovel doing whatever the Dalish did when they were not out and about. Bethany and Anders had been off to gather healing herbs for the clinic; they had stopped in only to get some food before getting back to work. Varric had given them both an odd look, but Moira had decided not to say anything.

If the dwarf had something to say, he would let her know.

They had journeyed to the address Petrice had given them. The sister had let them in with barely a word. The job was simple she said, she needed aid with a burden of charity, a poor soul needed to be safely escorted out of the city, through the tunnels of Darktown.

It was then that this "Burden" stepped into the light. His chains rattling as he came to a stop before them.

The bound Qunari mage said nothing, not that he likely could considering the heavy collar and mask that had been strapped to his face.

"I call him Ketojan," Petrice had said, "A bridge between worlds."

Hawke had frowned.

Ketojan, she thought, trouble was a better name for him.

Hawke had faced such a creature in battle before. Petrice claimed him to be a survivor of a battle between the Qunari and Tal Vashoth outlaws. Her bodyguard Ser Varnell had discovered him following a skirmish between the two parties, and, in the name of good Andrastian charity, and brought the creature to her.

Hawke looked over at the Templar. She had been a bit worried the first time she had seen him, fearing some kind of trap. Varnell had cold flinty eyes and harsh unforgiving features.

He did not look like a man who knew much about good Andrastian charity.

Still gold was gold, and they had need of it. Petrice had a map she had acquired for tunnels beneath the house they were standing in. The sister recognized the danger of such a journey so she had sought out someone with what she had called "pure heart and bloody skill." Moira was not sure about the pure heart thing, but she thought that they would be able to get the mage out of the city.

After that, the mage could go where he liked. She was not sure what kind of life he would have wearing that collar of his, but as Petrice had said, at least his future would be his own, he would have a chance to decide.

Hawke had sighed.

They needed the gold and the cause seemed just.

She agreed to see the mage out of the city.

The tunnels themselves had been infested with giant spiders, and more than a few traps, likely set by Kirkwallers trying to keep the beasts from coming up into Lowtown. She Aveline and Fenris were more than skilled to deal with the former, and Varric dealt with the latter with his own roguish skills. The Qunari mage did little but follow as they made their way through the gloom. Aveline had commented that considering that they were fighting for his freedom, the least the creature could do was help.

At least he is moving, Hawke thought, maybe he did not truly understand what was going on? She had seen and felt the powers of a Qunari mage during a fight with the Tal Vashoth, she knew the kind of power such a creature wielded.

The fact that it chose not to use those powers was strange.

They had continued on, they were almost out when they encountered a gang of Kirkwall toughs hiding near the entrance. Their leader had been interested in extracting a toll from them, and was willing to threaten harm to get it.

The Qunari mage had growled at that threat, stepping forward to try and protect Hawke.

She was about to tell him to calm himself, but before she could the leader of the toughs drew his blade. The Qunari mage struck first blasting him with an arcane bolt flinging him hard against the wall killing him instantly.

Of course, the man's fellows tried to attack to avenge that death, but now found themselves greatly overmatched. Hawke and her allies did what they could, but their charge did the most of the damage. The tunnel soon filled with white and gold magical flames, flames that consumed their attackers.

Ketojan did not let up until Hawke ordered him to stop, one word was all it had taken, and the Qunari had gone docile again.

When she tried to question him on what he had done, he merely growled in response.

Had he reacted so violently because his lead had been threatened, she wondered?

Whatever his reason, the Qunari had gone silent again, and the way was now clear.

Hawke led them through to the exit, but the night was not yet done with its surprises.

They emerged to find a full company of Qunari soldiers waiting for them, soldiers that claimed that they had murdered a group of their fellows.

Moira had tried to explain. Yet the group's commander a soldier calling himself the Arvaarad would not hear her. The Qunari had followed the trail from the dead warriors, and trail that led here. As far as the Qunari officer was concerned that was all the proof he had needed.

The Qunari mage, the one they called Saarebas, bowed to the commander when he saw him though it was clear that he had no interest in bringing the mage back into their fold. Hawke might still have been able to avoid a fight, but the Arvaarad discovered that she was a mage as well.

He attacked without any further word, believing that she was trying to poison his control. He prevented the Saarebas from aiding them through the use of some kind of control rod, a rod that made the mage's collar bring the man to his knees.

Though outnumbered Hawke and her allies managed to fight through, the Qunari had been unprepared to deal with a party with such…unique skills, Fenris alone felled half the party. When it was over, and Arvaarad dead, they freed the Saarebas from his collar.

The creature did not respond in the way they had thought.

He thanked them for their aid, speaking the common tongue for the first time, but he still felt compelled to obey the words of the Arvaarad, he still felt he needed to die.

Moira tried to talk him out of it. He could seek out the Tal Vashoth. There were no doubt free mages that would take him in. He had his life back, why now did he want to die?

"I do not wish to die," the Saarebas said, "I wish to live under the Qun."

"Which means dying," she reminded him.

"Yes," he said with a tired sigh.

She shook her head, more out of frustration than anything else.

They had given the mage his life back; did she have any right to tell him what to do with it?

Whatever his plan was, she would not stop him.

Freedom had to count for something after all.

He thanked her for decision, declaring her basveraad, worthy of following. He was grateful that she understood his duty and boundaries, with that the mage summoned the silver white fire he had used in the tunnels.

The flames consumed him, leaving only bones and bits of leather.

Varric and her friends stood next to her as the mage burned away, none of them looked happy.

"We need to have words with Sister Petrice," Aveline said grimly, "She needs to explain all this."

"I think the explanation is pretty straight forward," Varric said, "The bitch played us."

Moira frowned.

The Qunari had followed a trail here. Someone had left that trail. Petrice had given them the map that opened up out here.

Her eyes narrowed.

Had Petrice wanted this fight? Had she wanted them to die? Why? For what purpose?

Aveline was right, she realized.

Petrice owed them answers.

IOI

Hawke left the Qunari compound with the Sister's words still ringing in her ears.

It was nothing personal.

Your deaths would have gone far in proving that appeasement will not work.

Tell who you will, the word of a Lowtown thug will not be believed.

Do not think me cruel, I do mourn the creature's death, but someone needs to think about eternity.

The peace will not last.

Petrice was right, Hawke feared, her word against a member of the chantry would not matter much. Varnell had been destroying any trace of their being there when they arrived.

Still…Petrice's smugness had still bothered her.

The sister might not have thought the matter personal, but for Hawke, when someone tried to arrange her death, it was very personal.

Fenris had been the one to suggest that they go before the Arishok let him know what had happened.

"He will find out anyway Hawke," the elf had said, "better he hear it from us."

So once again, she had found herself standing before the Arishok's throne, while the Qunari leader listened to her report about what had happened.

The Qunari had been more…understanding than she had thought.

He did not blame her for the Arvaarad's death, though he did suggest that she not make the killing of their soldiers a regular thing. He respected her courage in coming here and explaining what had occurred. Though she left out Petrice's name, she did warn him that there were forces in Kirkwall that sought to break the peace.

The Qunari leader snorted at this.

"The peace would only be broken if the demands of the Qun made it so," he promised, as far as he was concerned the attempt was just a symptom of what was wrong in this city, a symptom that would likely have to be treated later.

As for the matter of the Saarebas, he considered it closed; the mage was dead, which had been the goal all along.

The Arishok dismissed them then, politely, saying that he was pleased that this city was not completely devoid of honor.

Hawke left, still feeling troubled.

"The peace would only be broken if the Qun demanded it," he had said.

Those words made her shiver.

She wondered if Petrice would have been so quick to provoke the Qunari if she saw all the soldiers that the Arishok had under his command, these were not simply farmers with pitchforks, they were hardened warriors.

What kind of damage could they do if they were provoked?

Would the Viscount's men be able to resist them?

It was not something she was personally willing to put to the test.

Moira sighed.

Aveline promised to take what had happened up with the Viscount. Whatever the Qunari's needs they would be met, at least until their rescue ship arrived. For now they just had to focus on keeping things civil.

Moira found herself hoping that the guard captain was right.

She had no desire to find her family caught in the middle of a war zone, again.

If all of Kirkwall had been allowed to see the numbers inside the Qunari compound, they might have agreed too.

How many foolishly thought the Qunari could be easily defeated? How many more Petrices were out there right now, doing Maker knew what?

The peace could not last, the sister had said.

Moira pursed her lips.

For all our sakes, she thought…

…It has to.