Another chapter and it didn't even take me three months this time! Can you believe it? Please, leave me a review, dear readers. Let me know you're still there!

Thank you to my lovely friend and beta, Hatsepsut!

Warning: smut ;)

Chapter 33 – All I've Got to Do

"No ship is coming. There is no rescue from duty to the Qun," Hawke kept repeating the Arishok's words in her head. That was not going to end well. If only she knew what they were looking for, what was needed for them to leave Kirkwall peacefully. He had told her they hadn't gone there to indoctrinate, so what it was that they wanted? And, now, as if the relations between them and the city weren't tense enough, everyone's patience already stretched thin, the Viscount tells her about the Qunari delegate and his entourage that had gone missing right after leaving his office.

There were always several guards standing watch at the Keep. The fucking barracks were there, for crying out loud! How come these Qunari could have disappeared from the Viscount's doorstep and no one knew anything about it?

Hawke stabbed at her food impatiently. This damned city was too messed up. No one could do their fucking jobs, they needed her for every damn thing. "Aveline, about these Qunari who went missing at the Keep from right under your guards' nose…" she started.

"What are you implying, Hawke?" the warrior asked in her best warning tone.

Hawke wasn't intimidated. "I'm not implying anything. I'm affirming that either some of your guards are involved in this or they're a sorry bunch of dumbasses."

All her companions fell silent around the large table in Varric's room where they were having lunch together. That thought had crossed everyone's mind, but no one had said a word about it. No one was willing to pick a fight with Aveline. Except for Hawke, apparently.

The Guard-Captain saw red. Her nostrils flared and she huffed loudly, her clenched fist hitting the table with a thud and making all plates and glasses jitter over it.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Hawke spoke first. "Can you honestly say I don't have a point?"

Aveline stood up tall, squaring her shoulders and Hawke immediately followed, mimicking her posture. "Maybe it is time I become a better Captain and stop overlooking it every damn time you break the law."

They glared at each other, with narrow eyes and gritted teeth, their stances menacing.

"If you two are going at it, you should get more comfortable. No armor, right, Blondie?" Varric jested, trying to break the tension.

"And no weapons. We don't want it to be over too soon," Anders played along, hoping they weren't really considering attacking each other.

"And some oil," Sebastian let out before he could stop himself and blushed instantly at everyone's surprised look.

"Good one, Choir-Boy. Sometimes I forget you were a real man once," Varric chuckled.

"Let's not give them the satisfaction," Aveline said, her eyes still trained on Hawke.

"Are you going to at least investigate what in the Void happened to the fucking Qunari delegate?" Hawke asked.

"Yes," Aveline answered sharply. "Think you can find something helpful to do while I'm at it, something that doesn't involve breaking any laws?"

"I'll try," Hawke replied dryly.

"You'd better," Aveline retorted and walked out of the room in angry strides.

When Hawke had last visited the Qunari compound, one of the guards had told her one of their patrols had disappeared on the Wounded Coast. Maybe the same people, whoever they were, were behind both cases? She had no real leads, other than asking around town about the missing Qunari and searching the Wounded Coast for clues. Since Aveline was already taking care of the investigation in Kirkwall, she decided to take on the search for the lost patrol on the beach.

This time Hawke was not in the mood for camping or a having a picnic by the seaside, she just wanted to get these issues with the Qunari solved, thus she brought Varric, Anders, Merrill, Isabela and Garrus with her and split them in two teams so they would cover more ground in less time.

Sebastian was left behind. He had mentioned he had never seen the ocean and she thought it would be best if she brought him there on a less busy day so he could enjoy the view and maybe take a swim.

At sundown the two teams met back at their starting point. The trip to the beach hadn't been of much help. Hawke, Isabela and Merrill had found the bodies of the missing Qunari patrol and then had been attacked by shades, but there were no signs or clues of any kind of who might have summoned them.

At least Anders, Varric and Garrus had managed to free a mage girl that had been captured by a bounty-hunter, fulfilling a request from Mistress Selby's board which left Anders in a great mood and, also, they had gathered one of the rare ingredients Solivitus had asked for. If not for that, the day would have been a complete waste.

It was already late in the evening when they made it back to Kirkwall and Hawke hoped Aveline had had more luck shedding light on the case about the missing Qunari. She was arriving home with Anders and Garrus, when she saw the warrior passing by with a couple of guards behind her, their pace urgent. Hawke started after them and the dog and the mage followed.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

"I did," Aveline replied, without stopping or even sparing a glance towards Hawke.

"Need any help?"

Aveline opened her mouth ready to spit a resonant no to Hawke's face, but her eyes darted to one of the guards behind her and then to Anders. "Yes, thank you," she said politely.

There was something going on there, Hawke realized, eyeing the same guard. "You're the one we saved from an ambush a few years back. Donnic, right?"

"Yes, Serah Hawke. It's good to see you again. I hope you're faring well," he said.

"Ser Varnell is responsible for the disappearance of the Qunari delegate," Aveline hastily said, ending Hawke and Donnic's conversation.

It worked to pique Hawke's interest. "Don't tell me that zealot, Petrice –"

"Yes, she is involved. She told me where Ser Varnell is. That's where we're going. She'll meet us there," the guardswoman explained.

"You let her go alone? She could be setting up an ambush for us right now!"

"You don't need to tell me how to do my job, Hawke!" Aveline replied, raising her voice. "Sebastian was at the Chantry and he'll be escorting her to the meeting place."

"Good. But how did Ser Varnell manage to abduct these Qunari anyway?"

"Remember how the seneschal insisted we had templars in our ranks? I even asked you to help me convince the Knight-Captain to comply, since you were dating at the time."

"Yes."

"There you go."

The rest of the journey was made in a tense and uncomfortable silence, with Aveline waiting for Hawke to throw another accusation at her and Hawke barely keeping herself from doing just that.

Things didn't get any better as they reached Ser Varnell's hideout.

"Look what I found here," Hawke said, retrieving a shield from a crate. "Borne by the one true Ser Aveline," she read the inscription on the back of the shield out loud in mock solemn voice.

"We're trying to get something important done here, Hawke. Who knows what Ser Varnell might be doing right now to those Qunari? Do you really have to go over every damn crate and barrel we come across?" Aveline said impatiently.

"It seems like a nice shield and it has your name on it," Anders pointed out. "Don't you want it?"

"Orlesian smiths engrave Ser Aveline's name on every second piece of armor. This didn't really belong to her, you know," the guardswoman said.

"So you don't want it?" Hawke asked.

"It is a fine shield," Donnic remarked, taking a closer look.

"What is Ser Aveline to me? She –"

"I know the story," Hawke interrupted the Guard-Captain, remembering fondly how Sister Leliana had told her the tragic tale of Ser Aveline the day they had met back in Lothering. "You're keeping you're old shield then?"

"It has served me well," the red-haired warrior said sternly.

"It sure looks like it, worn out as it is," Hawke teased.

Aveline glared at her. "You're saying I should give it up entirely?"

"No, but it's not suitable for the kind of battle we get involved in anymore. Keep it on an armor stand in your office if you don't want to sell it," Hawke replied.

"I think I should be the judge of that," Aveline retorted.

Hawke rolled her eyes. "It belonged to Wesley. That's how old it is. You can't count on it to hold out in a real fight."

"Who's Wesley?" Donnic asked.

"Her late husband," Anders supplied.

"I didn't know you were a widow, Captain. My condolences," Donnic said politely.

Aveline looked at them, exasperated. That was not the time or place for that. They had a job to do. "Please," she exhaled heavily, "can't we just go? We need to find Ser Varnell before it's too late."

"Fine." Hawke dropped the shield back in the crate where she had found it and took point.

Donnic looked at it and then at Aveline and her really old shield. "This one is much –"

"I know," she let out an irritated huff, snatched the Orlesian shield and strapped it to her back.

When they finally found Ser Varnell and met with Petrice and Sebastian, the situation had already gone downhill. The Qunari had been tortured and murdered and Hawke and her band were swarmed by… common folk, wearing not armor, but simple clothes and while some of them carried improvised weapons, most were unarmed. Even though they were all zealots with hate and murder in their eyes, they seemed like the kind of people they protected, not killed, and Aveline and her guards hesitated.

Unfortunately, a second of hesitation could be the difference between life and death in combat and while Hawke, Anders and Garrus jumped right into it, Aveline only began striking to kill when her two guards were already bleeding out on the floor.

Sebastian couldn't believe what he was doing as he joined the fray, shooting his arrows against those poor people to help out his friends.

With her escort distracted, the sly Mother Petrice took the opportunity to flee the templar's hideout.

When the fight was over, Varnell and his followers were dead and so was one of the guardsmen. And while Anders was trying to save the other, Aveline was wearing a hole on the ground by his side with her nervous pacing. Hawke gestured to Garrus to follow her as they stepped away, giving them more room. The healer certainly didn't need any more people breathing down his neck while he worked.

She went over to the prince, who was leaning against a wall with his head down and had a miserable look on his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, Hawke. This is not right," he spoke, his voice shaky. "These were not bandits or raiders. They were devoted Andrastians that were misled by a templar and a Mother of the Chantry – the very people who should have given them guidance and set them in the path of the Maker."

He had actually seen those men and women at the Chantry many times, had heard their confessions, prayed with them and blessed their children. No doubt they had been recruited there, right under his nose and he hadn't noticed it. Now they were all dead, leaving behind their kids and loved ones, now orphans and widowers. He had to speak to Elthina, tell her about what had happened here, about Mother Petrice and Ser Varnell.

"Don't you want to say a prayer for them? Maybe it'll make you feel better."

Of course! What was happening to him that he hadn't thought of that? Falling to his knees, he looked up at her. "Pray with me."

"I… don't. But I'll keep you company," she said, kneeling by his side and holding his hand.

He laced his fingers in hers, tightening his grip as his prayer became more and more fervent. The words were coming out heavy with anger. That was not the right feeling for a Chantry Brother to have in a moment like that, but he couldn't help it; it was so unfair that all those people were dead and that a Mother and a templar were involved.

His strong grip was starting to hurt her hand and she had to stop him. "Sebastian," she called softly.

He looked guilty and still angry as he opened his eyes to meet hers and she cupped his face gently with her free hand to appease him.

"There's so much wrong here, Hawke," he said, his voice hoarse. "I don't think I can –"

"We can," she reassured him. "We'll sort this out."

Sighing tiredly, he gave her the slightest nod in agreement. "I'll talk to Elthina about Mother Petrice."

They stood up, their hands still entwined. "Hey," she said, "I'm sorry that you got dragged into this, but we'll fix this. I promise."

"We have to. Thank the Maker for you, Hawke," he uttered, pulling her into a hug. How come just a few words of reassurance from her had soothed him more than his prayer?

"Ahem!" Anders interrupted them. Viscount Dumar had just arrived with a few guardsmen. Aveline had probably sent for him.

"I'll go back to the Chantry," Sebastian said, giving Hawke a sad half-smile and squeezing her hand before leaving.

She nodded and turned to the Viscount, who was looking around in horror at all those corpses. "This is madness! I cannot return the bodies to the Arishok in this state. What should I do, serah Hawke?"

Hawke sucked in a deep breath. This was going to be a very long night.

She didn't have much time to rest. When Hawke met Varric for lunch the next day he had just found out Bartrand was back in town. The two rogues were not the only ones dying to confront him for his betrayal in the Deep Roads, so Hawke decided to be nice and fair and give all who would like to face him the chance to do so.

That was how she ended up for the millionth time at the broody elf's door. Not unlike Bartrand, he had betrayed her. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if he had won the fight and succeeded in killing Anders and Varric in the Fade that day. Would the healer have become Tranquil or would Justice have been able to protect him? And what would have happened to that poor kid Feynriel? Of one thing she was certain, if that elf had harmed or somehow managed to turn one of her mage friends Tranquil, she would not have shown him any mercy.

Those thoughts about Fenris and his hatred for mages weren't doing her any good and since hearing about Bartrand being back in the city had already set her in a murderous mood, she felt like punching the elf on the spot just for the nonchalant way he answered the door and asked her what she was doing there.

She took a deep breath and just went on and said what she had to say, before she regretted going after him in the first place, "Bartrand is back and Varric, Anders and I are going to set some things straight with him. Do you want to come?"

He looked surprised. "You want me to join you again?"

"I don't know. Are you sure you're not going to run away with the first demon that crosses our path?"

Her provocation hit the spot and he narrowed his eyes at her. "I am sorry about what happened in the Fade, Hawke. I apologize for my weakness, but the more I think about it, the more I believe you are also to blame."

Her mouth fell open and she looked at him in disbelief.

"Why did you take me to the Fade? We should have hunted the boy's body down and killed him!" he said, raising his voice.

"You cannot be serious about this! For how long do you know me, Fenris? Do you honestly think I would even consider killing an innocent boy when there was a chance he could be saved? You know what?" She shoved her index finger angrily on his chest and yelled, "Fuck you!"

Turning on her heels, she stormed out and was already halfway down to Bartrand's house where she would meet Varric and Anders when she heard quickly approaching steps behind her. Furiously, she turned around to find that damned stubborn elf again. "WHAT?"

"If you were still there in the Fade when that demon made its offer, Hawke, I believe I would not have fallen prey to it so easily," he said, his efforts to keep an expressionless face rendered null and void by the anxiety that seeped through his voice.

"What are you saying, Fenris?"

"I… I wish to stand by your side."

That was most definitely not what she expected to hear from him right now. "Do you really mean that?"

His reply was instant and sure. "Yes."

It was a relief knowing that she could count on him again, but that didn't mean she wouldn't keep her eyes open for his weaknesses or go easy on him. "So you better start showing up at the Hanged Man for our meetings," she said in all seriousness. "And you will stay until the end. No more dramatic exits, elf."

"As you wish, woman," he replied, matching her petulance. However his lips betrayed him as they quirked up in the tiniest smile to which she responded with a cheeky grin. That encounter had turned out better than she expected.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about the rest of the evening. If Bartrand had been just a greedy asshole, things would have been much easier. But that was not exactly the case and Hawke wished Varric hadn't seen the shell of a man the lyrium idol had turned his big brother into. Anders did his best and he was probably the finest healer in all Thedas, but even he wasn't capable to bring the older Tethras back to his old self. Varric was trying to be strong, to mask his real feelings with humor, but Hawke knew him too well to fall for that. She didn't miss the flicker of pain in his eyes when he understood what had really happened to his brother, his somber expression when Anders said there was nothing else he could do, or the way his voice broke as he lied to Bartrand that everything would be fine.

Varric wouldn't admit he was hurting, but Hawke knew he was and she hated that she couldn't do more than keep him company and buy him a few drinks at the Hanged Man. One would think a person so familiar with loss and grief like her would know better how to deal with it. Well, she didn't. Drinking, wallowing in self-pity and indulging in self-destructive behaviors were usually her way to go about it.

By the way her week had started, Hawke thought things were only going to get worse. However, with Sebastian keeping an eye on Mother Petrice, they weren't having any more troubles involving the Chantry and the Qunari, which gave Hawke time to take care of her other businesses, like the never ending problems of her haunted mines at the Bone Pit.

And finally she was also able to go to Sundermount and gather the last two ingredients Solivitus had asked her for. Since she took the opportunity to help Merrill get an old magic tool from her clan that might help her fix that cursed broken mirror she was obsessed with, Hawke thought it was best to take only the non-judgmental members of her group along – Varric, Isabela and Garrus. It turned out to be a wise choice. In the evening, when they set camp for the night, Merrill had a meltdown because of this elf who, utterly terrified that she was a blood mage, had ran away from her and to his death. The girl was feeling terribly guilty and if Aveline, Sebastian, Anders or Fenris were there they would certainly make her feel even worse.

Back in Kirkwall, she reunited with her crew at the Hanged Man.

"So, did you give Solivitus the blood?" Anders asked her.

Hawke raised her brows. "Do you mean the Dalish tattoo ink?"

"I mean elven blood. That's what it is," he insisted.

"I did," she answered defiantly.

Sebastian took interest on their conversation. "Did you at least ask him why he wanted it?"

"Yes. He said he wanted to find out what the elves put in it that keeps the blood from clotting," Hawke replied.

"That doesn't make it any better. Why does he want to know that?" Aveline asked.

"I didn't ask," Hawke said.

"He could've just asked me. It's something we distill from clover hay. I would've told him. It's useful for blood magic too if you want to save some blood from your previous spells and not slit your arm every time," Merrill started her usual naïve and more often than not compromising babbler.

"Hahaha! Very funny, Daisy! Now enough of that. So, you two," Varric hastily changed the subject, pointing at Hawke and Anders as he set his writing material on the table, "I need some details. Who jumped who? Did you swear eternal vows of love, or it this just a physical thing?"

"Are you two dating?" Aveline asked.

For once, Hawke didn't mind that her love life was again being brought into everyone's attention. Anything was better than letting Merrill go on about blood magic when Sebastian, Anders and Fenris were in the room. "We are," she promptly confirmed, to the healer's pleasant surprise.

"Since when? How come I missed this?! Oh? Does this mean Fenris is available?" Isabela asked.

Merrill clapped her hands cheerfully. "Aw! You make such a sweet couple! Wait. What did you mean about Fenris, Isabela?"

"It's just a joke, Kitten," the pirate replied. "Do not trouble your pretty little head with it."

"Is it really, whore?" Aveline provoked Isabela.

Dragging her hands over face, Hawke exhaled loudly. How come every time her crew was gathered it was impossible to have one normal conversation?

"Are you living together?" Varric asked them.

"Sort of," Anders said at the same time Hawke said, "Not really."

All the companions shot them curious looks and Anders muttered in feigned sweetness, "Can I talk to you in private, sweetheart?"

Hawke huffed and dragged herself out of the room with Anders, shooting Varric a nasty glare on her way out.

They went into an empty room further down the hall and she was ready for a screaming match, but instead he pinned her against the wall, pressing his body flush against hers and hungrily claiming her mouth. She returned his kisses loving the way his stubble grazed her smooth skin. His hands began to roam eagerly all over her body, sliding under her skirt to squeeze her ass and she shuddered and moaned wantonly, wounding a leg around him as she felt the tingling of magic on his fingers. Maker, how she loved the naughty uses of magic! And he knew very well how to use his abilities to have her keening and begging for him.

As she began fumbling with his robes, he stopped her, spinning her around and pushing her chest first against the wall. A shudder ran down her spine and she hastily shimmied out of her smalls, arching her back and shoving her ass against his erection. His hand slid down her stomach and between her legs and he inserted his middle finger with ease in her velvety core, finding her already all wet and ready for him.

Kicking her legs further apart, he freed his cock, teasing her slick entrance with his tip. She tried to take him in, to impale herself in his length, but he held her in place with a strong grasp on her hips, making her blow out a frustrated breath.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered in her ear.

"Damn you, mage! You know what I want."

"Say it."

"I want your fucking cock inside me! Now!"

With a pleased smile he hilted himself in her with one fast and hard thrust. "I'm moving in tonight. You better clear some space for me in our room," he said, panting as he pounded her with punishing force.

"Fine, as long as you fuck me like this every day," she replied in between gasps and groans. That blighted apostate really knew how to make her melt in his arms and damn her if she wasn't starting to love pissing him off and making him jealous just so he would take her like that.

While she was in Sundermount, Anders had been out on a quest of his own. "So, how did your work for Mistress Selby go?" she asked when they were finally getting ready to go to bed after unpacking his meager belongings in her estate.

"Well, I had to go to the Gallows and – "

"The Gallows? Fuck, Anders!"

"Hey, relax, sweetheart. Everything was fine. I had help."

"Did you, now?" Surely not from Sebastian, Fenris or Aveline, and since Merrill, Varric and Isabela were in Sundermount with her…

"Yes. Tess and Julian, from the mage underground," he answered, joining Hawke on the bed.

"Tessalyn? The Starkhaven bitch that was all over you that night at your clinic?"

He pulled her into his arms. "I love it when you're jealous, you know?"

"Have you two ever…?"

"Yes," he said, unworriedly running his fingers through her hair.

She raised her head to look at him, her voice an octave higher than usual. "And why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because it didn't mean anything. It happened a couple of years ago. You were with Cullen, but I was already so in love with you, it didn't work with her." He rolled them over so he was pinning her to the bed with his larger frame. Entwining their fingers, he kissed her slow and deeply and she just knew that it was true. She didn't have to worry; he was hers.

It was a shame that Justice was not happy with that arrangement.