Hawke made his way to the Chantry to see how the children he rescued were doing. When he got there he found Sebastian and Aveline arguing and apparently the discussion was about him.

"Hawke should do it. Kirkwall needs a viscount," said Sebastian.

"Have you asked him?" Aveline asked. "It would be Hawke's decision."

"I watch my parents in Starkhaven. When times are good, the city rules itself. Years could pass and no one notices who's prince." He then gave her grim look. "But when there's famine, when there's war, people look to their leaders. Who does Kirkwall have beyond Hawke?"

Aveline then noticed Hawke approaching them. "This is probably a discussion for the two of you to have."

"You want me to be viscount?" Hawke stared.

"Andraste said, 'the Maker is king of the heavens, but it is the Kings of Thedas who must recreate His worldly glory'." He then looked a Hawke. "I keep thinking about that. Who better serves the Maker: a brother of the faith, or a prince who can sway a whole city?"

Hawke realised he was talking about himself and not him. "The best ways to serve the Maker is in his Chantry."

"Starkhaven needs me. But I will not leave Elthina to the mercy of these apostates. We must put down this rebellion and solidify the Chantry's hold. Then I can return to Starkhaven with a clear conscience."

"You can't leave until the grand cleric is out of danger," Hawke nodded.

"And the only way to ensure that is if every mage in Kirkwall is locked away safely in the Circle. Or Dead." He crossed his arms. "I might have questioned that once. But I've learned a lot from you, Hawke. If you lack of a true heart, in a noble cause, it doesn't matter what it takes to succeed."

Hawke nodded. "Did Cullen take the children to the Gallows?"

"He did, and I hope they find peace there. The situation between the templars and mages has not gone well and still Elthina does nothing. Waiting for a sign of the Maker is all well and good, but sometimes you have to take action in order to prevent a war."

Hawke couldn't agree more, hopefully they could prevent a war.

A letter from a panicked father asking him to save his daughter who is located at the coast. He hadn't gone far when Evets showed up complaining about Hawke killing all his men some time back. The man was in the process of swearing revenge and dire fates when Varric shot him in the throat. He glanced at the dwarf.

"What?" Varric asked. "You were going to do that, right?"

"Yes, but I was going to do it with more style."

Varric caressed the crossbow. "Don't worry, sweetheart, he didn't mean it."

"You do realise there are more of them?" Sebastian asked.

At least a third of the remaining bandits appeared to have found something better to do with their afternoon. The rest appeared confused. Hawke reached for his staff, and they started to run.

"Come to me," Isabela said in a low, sultry voice. "And I'll take you to places you've never been…"

"Isabela…" Varric stared. "Are you talking to Bianca?"

Isabela let her fingers trail over the crossbow lightly. "I think she deserves to feel a woman's touch on her trigger, don't you?"

"Bianca responds to my touch." Varric shook his head. "She'd never give it up for you."

"That's what they always say." Isabela batted her eyes. "And I always prove them wrong."

"Stop it. You're confusing her. And me."

Someone had rescued the girl before they'd arrived. She saw them and smiled. "You, there. Did my love send you? Will you take me to him?"

Hawke shook his head and looked around at the bodies. From the looks of things, the bandits had killed each other. "I came from your father's request. You expected someone else?"

"Feynriel, the man of my dreams." She was all but gushing. "These brutes intended to take my maidenhood. As they argued about who would go first, I fainted. Then Feynriel spoke to me in a vision and told me not to fear. When I awoke, the men had slain one another. Please take me to Feynriel. I want to thank him properly."

He exchanged a somewhat wide-eyed look with his companions. "I'm sorry, but I have no way to locate him." According to the last letter he'd received, the man was in Tevinter.

A few more bandits found them, and made the mistake of drawing their weapons.

The young woman shrugged when it was over, and started walking. "It seems I must wait a bit longer for my love." She sighed. "Thank you for your aid. I will find my way back to Kirkwall. The walk will tire me, and we'll be reunited in my dreams. Feynriel my love—I'm coming."

It was clear to Hawke that he was going to have to write a letter to Tevinter.

Varric was pacing the entry when he got home. "Got a minute, Hawke?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I know this is ancient history, but remember that Hightown house Bartrand barricaded himself in? Bartrand doesn't exactly need the place, now that he's in the sanitarium. I've been trying to sell it."

"I assume there's not much interest in it."

"No. There's a real number of people who want expensive, blood-covered houses in Hightown. I found a minor noble in Rivain who bought the place sight unseen. But now there's a problem. They say the place is…" He gave Hawke a concerned look. "Haunted."

"Bartrand's atrocities must have weakened the barrier between this world and the Fade."

"Maker, I hope not," said Varric as he paced around some more. "I don't think I can fix the Veil through applied use of force. They've noticed some minor problems: Voices whispering in the walls, apparitions, things moving on their own. My hope is it's a relic Bartrand brought back from the Deep Roads. We smash it, and the haunting stops."

"What happens if we do nothing?" Hawke asked.

"Best case? They drag me before the seneschal and accuse me of fraud. The worst case involves Antivan Crows."

Considering their last encounter with the Crows, Hawke thought Varric might just have that backwards. "I'm not an expert on hauntings, but what if smashing something does not make the problem go away?"

"Ah…" Varric shrugged. "That's where things get tricky. You're a mage. You must know something about…" He gestured absently. "Weird shit. I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out that will help."

"Very well. We'll investigate the mansion. Again."

"Thanks, Hawke. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

They entered the estate at once Varric started to act funny.

"Hey… is that music? Where is that coming from?"

Hawke gave Varric a concerned look. "I don't hear anything."

They hadn't gone much further when a vase picked itself up off a table and smashed onto the floor.

"Something in this house is restless," Fenris said.

"I guess the buyer wasn't kidding." Varric kept touching Bianca as if reassuring himself the crossbow was still there.

They kept walking. Merrill let out a squeal as a pile of books threw themselves into her path. "Hello? Messere ghost? Would you stop that, please?"

"I can barely hear it," Varric muttered. "I wish I could make out the words." He strode into a room, and shook his head. "Look at this: my brother's junk was left here. You wouldn't know it, but Bartrand was a sentimentalist. This came from our estate in Orzammar. When I was seven, I knocked over one of Mother's plates and broke it. My brother yelled at me for an hour." Varric rubbed the back of his neck. "'This was made by the artisans of House Saldras. The clay was from the Aedros Atuna river, which never sees the sun.'"

"There's no way you're talking about the same Bartrand that I met." That man hadn't a sentimental bone in his body. He'd left his own brother to die for a chance at more gold.

"Maker's truth. There were tears in his eyes. I never thought that was possible before. That stupid plate was the whole city of Orzammar to him."

"What is going on here? There's no way the Veil could be torn this badly," said Anders as they watched spectres running past them screaming.

Varric suddenly turned towards him. "This isn't being caused by some random artifact. The idol is still in the house, Hawke. It has to be."

Hawke nodded, and started walking deeper into the mansion. He hadn't gone far when a vase threw itself at him. It shattered on his breastplate, sending shards everywhere. "Whatever is here is angry," Fenris said.

A young woman emerged from where she'd been hiding behind the curtains. "Are you real? You've got to get out of here before it comes back."

Hawke was about to reassure here when Varric stepped forward. "Where's the idol?"

She gave him a confused look. "What idol?"

"Don't waste my time with your lies." Varric actually reached for his crossbow.""Tell me where it is."

Hawke caught Varric's hand. "I didn't exactly want to stay for dinner, but I think we've got a few minutes to hear her out."

"She's hiding something, Hawke." He tried to pull free. "Don't lie to me. I know it's here. You must have found it."

"I swear." She held her hands up in front of herself defensively. "I don't' know anything about an idol. Please." There was a strange humming noise. "Maker, no. It's starting again." She fled the room.

Varric started to follow, and Fenris moved to block his path. Hawke was about to ask Varric what was going on when they heard the woman scream.

"Uh oh…" Varric stared at what appeared to be a golem. The golem was translucent, almost like a spirit.

Hawke sent a blast of lightning at it. Next to him, Merrill and Anders hit it with a blast of fire. Fenris moved forward, flames erupting on his sword as Hawke cast the spell. Varric fired Bianca.

The golem vanished, to be replaced by a ball of strange light. Hawke threw up a barrier just as the light exploded into a wave of electricity. He dimly heard Varric yelp. It took several more spells, combined with Fenris's blade and Bianca before the thing stopped moving.

A small piece of glowing red something fell to the ground as the golem vanished. Varric walked over and picked it up. "This… this is a piece of the idol." He shook his head. "I should have known Bartrand would lie to me. Of course he'd keep a piece of the statue for himself. Think of what we could do with this."

A piece of the thing had done everything they'd seen in the house. And the idol itself… what it had done to Bartrand. He didn't particularly want to think about it. "Varric, you've been acting strangely ever since we arrived. I don't think you want to keep that shard."

"I know you're just trying to look out for me, Hawke, but I can handle this! It's not the whole idol, it's just a sliver!" He gestured dramatically. "I need this thing. Six years of my life have gone into this." He paced a few steps. "The shard is my only hope of curing Bartrand. It's my only chance to set any of this right."

"And… there we go again. The thing's magic seems only more potent when broken," said Anders.

"The shard is my only hope of curing Bartrand. It's my only chance to set any of this right."

Hawke looked to Merrill and saw the worry in her Merrill eyes. "Listen to yourself, Varric! It's already controlling you! You have to let it go!"

"You're not listening, Hawke." Varric spread his hands. "I know I can handle this shard."

"I'm worried, Varric. You begin to sound exactly like Bartrand."

"Fine. I don't really want to argue about this anyway." Varric shoved it at him, and he wrapped it carefully in a cloth rather than touch it. "Take it. It's your problem now. Maybe 'Enchantment' boy can dispose of the thing for you."

"That was the right decision, Hawke," said Anders. "You've saved him great pain."

Varric sighed. "Let's go. I… think I could use some air."

He had Merrill take Varric into one of the guest rooms, and then gestured at Sandal. He set the wrapped fragment down, and then pulled the wrapping away to reveal it. "Think you can do something with this, Sandal?"

Bodahn's eyes widened. "Is that… lyrium? I've never seen anything like that."

"It's dangerous. Varric suggested Sandal might be able to dispose of it."

The older dwarf put a hand on Sandal's shoulder and smiled proudly. "I think my boy can do better than that."

"Ooh…" Sandal said. "Enchantment."

He found Varric sitting at the table the next morning. Orana was moving around the kitchen, fixing breakfast. Varric gave him an abashed expression. "Listen, Hawke. I don't know what came over me back there in Bartrand's house. I'm glad you're watching my back."

"That's what I'm here for." He smiled as Merrill joined them. "That, and doing all the fighting."

"You know what I like about you, Hawke?" Varric accepted the cup of tea from Orana. "Your humility."

Hawke accepted the plate Orana gave him. "Thank you, Orana?"

"You're welcome, Master."

"Well, I'll say it again. And don't call me master."

She smiled at him. "Yes master."

Aveline folded her hand. "Why are you still here, Varric?"

Varric threw in his bet. "Starkhaven's too pretentious for me and Cumberland's too boring."

"You always say you hate commitment, but here you are, six years later, still at Hawke's side."

He showed his cards, to the vexation of Isabela, and swept up his winnings. "Aveline, I thought you'd have noticed by now: I lie a lot." He took the cards, and dealt the next hand.

Merrill looked at her cards, then looked over them at Varric. "How do you do it, living in the city without picking a side? Doesn't it matter to you?"

"Of course it does." He tossed in his bet. "That's why I don't take sides."

She put in some coins of her own. "That doesn't make any sense."

He gestured around the table. "I've got you and Aveline, Fenris and Anders. Hawke. Isabela." He shrugged. "I've got friends in the Circle and drinking buddies in the templars. All of them matter."

"But you're going to fight." She raised. "If it comes to that, I mean."

"I fought my own brother, Daisy." He sighed. "Nobody said this was going to be happy story."

He glanced in the study to see Merrill asleep, a book still open on her lap, with the title 'Tale of the Wardens'. He smiled fondly, and then walked into the next room.

Bodahn came to stand next to him. "Things have been very troubling these last few years, haven't they? I, ah…" Bodahn sighed. "I was thinking that it might soon be time for my boy and I to move on."

As much as he'd been waiting to hear that for five years, it still stung. "Back to the merchant's life, I suppose?"

"It's an honour to serve the Champion of Kirkwall, make no mistake, but I'm getting older. It's time to see to Sandal's future. I'll stay on until arrangements are made. I hope that's all right."

Hawke nodded. "If you're worried about Sandel, I can help him out."

Bodahn looked surprised. "Ah, that's mighty kind of you, but it isn't necessary. My boy's been offered a position in Orlais. It seems the empress herself found one of his enchantments and is intrigued. Can you imagine? Us, in the Imperium court!" They turned and looked at the fire. "Hopefully this business with the templars doesn't get worse before we go. I worry about you, messere."

He folded his arms, and continued watching the fire.

"This Feynriel killed people in their dreams?" Cassandra shook her head. "That has to be an exaggeration."

"There are stories," Leliana said. "And this idol… It must have played a part in what happened."

"I agree."