"I need to go and check on Anders first," she said. "I think he's been avoiding us since the…"
"Incident when he almost killed someone?" Fenris said, leaning against the fireplace.
She shot the elf a narrow eyed look. Fenris merely raised an eyebrow and Saoirse rolled her eyes. "Sebastian, I'll be happy to talk with the Grand Cleric on the way back if you want."
"That would be fine, Hawke. I don't think Elthina expected you to turn up immediately."
The tense set of Saoirse shoulders confused him a little. He didn't understand why she seemed to dislike Elthina so much - the Grand Cleric had been nothing but kind to her, but every time they talked Saoirse always managed to choke out something sarcastic and offensive that made Sebastian wince, if she didn't outright ask the woman to fix the mage situation.
That abomination of hers had too much influence over her. He caught Fenris' eye. "We'll come with you," he said. "After last time I don't think you should be wandering around Darktown on your own."
She pulled on her ear. "I really need to get that cellar entrance unblocked," she mused, then shook her head. "Fenris has Sandal finished with your sword?"
The elf nodded.
"Fetch it then, we'll go directly. I just need to…" she touched her hair and her eyes took on a faraway look… "fix my hair."
Something dark and dangerous growled in Sebastian's chest. When he looked back at Fenris, the elf had a knowing smile on his face.
At the clinic the mage was nowhere to be seen at first. It was crowded, Fereldens everywhere. Sebastian found himself next to a cot that held a heavily pregnant woman, her husband kneeling on the ground next to her. "Are you a priest?" the man said, when he caught him looking. Sebastian inclined his head and raised a hand in habit.
"Maker's blessing on you," he said softly.
The man snorted. "Fat lot of good that'll do," he muttered. Sebastian backed away and turned around to see that Saoirse had found Anders and was talking to him. The man looked far more cheerful than was warranted, given his recent activities, and Saoirse seemed to be enjoying whatever conversation they were having. He took a few steps towards them, meaning to ask her to hurry up as Elthina was undoubtably waiting for them, when it happened.
Anders lunged for Saoirse, gripping the back of her head hard and devouring her mouth with his. Sebastian felt his jaw drop. He wanted to cry out to her, make it stop, please no, not him, not here, but it was obvious Saoirse was enjoying it as much as Anders and her hands came up to clutch the mage closer to her.
In the middle of a crowded clinic. In front of everyone. In front of ME. How could she do this?
When Anders finally pulled back he kept his arms around her, talking earnestly. Her cheeks were flushed and her mouth still parted as she nodded to whatever the mage was saying. Sebastian knew he should turn away, not watch, but he couldn't bring himself to. She looked so beautiful.
"Come, Sebastian," Fenris' voice was firm. Sebastian felt heat rush to his face. "We can wait for Hawke outside."
He kicked at a stone outside the clinic. Fenris was leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with that infuriating look on his face.
"So, is it your vows to the Chantry that are stopping you returning to Starkhaven?" Fenris said.
"In a manner of speaking," Sebastian said, glad for the distraction even if he suspected Fenris was really asking him something else about his vows.
"Surely retaking your title and lands is more important."
"Nothing is more important than serving the Maker."
Fenris smirked, and Saoirse chose that moment to come out of the clinic. Her cheeks were still red and her eyes were bright. "The mage isn't coming with us?" Fenris said.
She shook her head, biting her lip, which Sebastian couldn't help but notice was slightly swollen. "Too many patients right now," she said. "And it's not as though Elthina's his favourite person any way. Shall we?"
Sebastian looked back through the open clinic door to see Anders bent over a patient, a soft smile on his lips that made Sebastian clench his fists.
"I'll leave you two to go on your own," Fenris said, pushing off from the wall. "There's someone I need to see."
Saoirse waved a hand. "Sure," she said. "Come on Seb, let's go and see what Elthina wants me for."
He couldn't bring himself to say anything on the walk through Darktown. Saoirse stopped every now and then to talk to someone - he knew she came down here often to give alms and help Anders when she could, and he suddenly realised there were no chantry sisters or mothers here. None at all. In all the time he'd been coming down here, since he first arrived in Kirkwall, he'd never seen a single one of them ministering to the refugees. He frowned and made a mental note to talk to Elthina about it. Neglecting the spiritual needs of these people could be dangerous.
"You're all dark faced and broody, today, Seb," Saoirse said as they reached the streets of Hightown. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said. "I'm fine."
"Not contemplating revenge again? I thought we'd sorted that all out."
He forced a smile. "Of course not, Hawke."
"Desire demons plaguing you?" she looked over her shoulder at him and grinned, so perky and cheerful that it took a lot of effort for him not to sink deeper into a black mood. The Maker operates in mysterious ways, Sebastian, he said to himself. He will show her she is wrong. Before that monster can harm her.
"Prayer and contemplation has helped me come to terms with that," he said. "I am no longer troubled by it. Elthina says we are all vulnerable to the spiritual manifestations of sins, it is nothing to be ashamed of."
Her grin faded a little. "You really believe everything she says, don't you?" she said. "You were too young when you went to the Chantry, Sebastian. I wish your father had let you live a little first."
He grinned. "Oh, I did my living, Hawke, don't you worry. I was foolish then."
"Do you think the rest of us are foolish?" she said. "For not dedicating ourselves to the Chantry?"
"You dedicate yourselves to other things," he replied. "Well, most of you do."
She looked thoughtful. "That's true," she said. "Haven't you ever wished to… you know… dedicate yourself to something else instead?" The tone of voice makes his breath go faster and he has to force himself to remember that she's just let that mage… no, best not to dwell on what the mage and she had been doing.
He concentrated on the question, finding, surprisingly, that he is still conflicted. "The people of Starkhaven, perhaps," he muses. "But I am unsure if that's a desire from my life before or something I want now." He looks at his hands, remembering again the lure of the desire demon's offer. Power, the sort of power that his father had wielded, had once seemed so attractive. But he knew now, that what had been attractive about it was the trappings. Seeing Kirkwall now, the things that the Viscount had to deal with on a daily basis, watching Elthina attempt to minister to her flock… "I think I do more for the people of Kirkwall as a priest than I could ever do for the people of Starkhaven as a Prince." She cocked her eyebrow at him, and again there was that tension in her look. Was it because she was a mage, that she was so… hesitant about the Chantry and the Maker? "Tell me, Hawke, do you believe in the Maker? I don't think I've ever asked you."
Her eyes went cagey and she pursed her lips. "He hasn't done anything for me personally lately," she said, and although her tone was light, he could tell she was troubled.
He cursed himself. Of course. Bethany. Carver. If that mage hadn't gone with them to the deep roads she'd be an only child now.
"I am sorry, Saoirse," he said. "I didn't mean to bring up old wounds."
She waved a hand. "Hey, I've got a mansion and a dog and my own personal crazy dwarf enchanter. I can't complain."
He smiled at her. She smiled back and started up the steps to the Chantry. He watched her for a moment, wondering, hoping, then followed.
I won't let him hurt her, he thought to himself. The beginnings of a plan were forming in his head. He hoped Elthina would be quick with whatever she wished of Hawke. Tonight would be busy.