They walked back from the Captain's office in silence. The day had turned almost warm as the sun had climbed in the sky.
A perfect day for a picnic.
But there were no such gentle pursuits in store for them. Aeryn had wrapped herself in silence almost the instant they stepped out of the shadow of the tall stone building.
Outwardly, she wore a slight smile as if they were only on the stroll they had begun that morning, simply enjoying one another's company. But Sebastian could feel the stillness she cultivated hanging like a miasma around them. She'd been wearing the scarf Bethany had given her wrapped loosely around her neck and shoulders, but before they'd left the Captain's office, she'd pulled it up around her cropped hair. The blue and red paisley and the finely woven wool hid the sharp angles of her face and her eyes; more lady-like than the deep hood she'd worn often in Kirkwall, but serving a similar purpose.
He stroked his fingers over hers, tucked into the crook of his elbow. She'd tugged a pair of dark suede gloves on that morning but Sebastian could feel alert nervous energy radiating through them and stiffness in the fine leather where the assassin's blood had dried.
Every inch of her was alert; he could feel it, the strength of her as they walked. Lithe, dark, violent urgency snarling under the thin, pale veil of her skin.
She was hunting, again.
The back of Sebastian's neck tingled, still feeling the cold hard edge of the assassin's scissors. It hadn't occurred to him that he was in any danger from such an innocuous task. How many hundreds of times had he simply sat and let a stranger come at him with blade and razor?
Only Aeryn's reflexes and her broad streak of distrust had saved him, this time. He refrained from tugging her closer; the sudden shudder he had to suppress, cold despite the sun.
She felt it anyway. Sebastian saw her eyes flick towards him and he lifted the corners of his mouth. He couldn't manage to keep the smile up but he could rely on his own veneer of noble disdain to maintain their illusion of normalcy. The way she picked up their pace, shifting from stroll to a brisk, businesslike stride told him he hadn't fooled her.
As bells rang out the afternoon call to Chant, they kept to the main path once they crossed the bridge, ignoring the buzz and scatter of children just released from lessons. The market was quiet. Besides them, only a handful of adults missing an ingredient for dinner or out to take advantage of the warm sun even in the cool air roamed the narrow cobbled walks between the stalls. One old woman dressed in dark, heavy clothes was leaning against the stacked redstone wall that edged the path with her face turned up to the light. Aeryn pressed his arm with her fingertips as they approached the beggar, steering Sebastian away from his usual inclination to drop silver in the small cup sitting on the capstone beside a walking stick.
Another flicker of her lashes, dark against her cheek, asked him. Not today.
He tightened his fingers on her hand again and followed Aeryn's direction to the far side of the walkway, pointing out a carriage and a pair of high-stepping grey horses in order to spare the beggar's sensibilities. Or his own. Probably his own. Not his safety. He could not turn away from need for his safety, ever, and consider himself his own man.
But for Aeryn's? For her peace of mind and her safety from whatever hunted her and him, now? That was an easy priority.
Aeryn's raised eyebrow and hum of interest covered the way she cut her eyes behind them. The woman hadn't stirred as they passed. Possibly asleep. Not dead, she decided, watching a hitching breath lift the thin ribcage. Sebastian's fine jawline had gone a touch rigid. She'd make it up to them both another day, once Aeryn had asked one of her tagalongs for the beggar's history. Easy to hide strength in rags but most folks liked habit. If she'd been there before, if she was a regular..then the kids would know.
They crossed the street and entered the relative privacy of the circle that their inn sat in. An hour after the lunch crowd had dispersed, only a handful of patrons and staff were out in the courtyards. Even so, Aeryn weighed and measured each individual until the heavy oak door opened to receive them. Sebastian shut it solidly behind them, releasing a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
Varric was sitting in the shadowed front room, relief clear on his broad handsome face as he stood when the silver bell over the door announced them. He said nothing, but somehow he'd known. Bianca was strapped in ready across his shoulders and he flicked his hand back to replace the safety catch.
"So, how'd the house look, Sebastian?" His eyes ticked over to the desk clerk flicking through his ledger, very clearly curious about something.
Fortunately, Sebastian caught the warning and smiled convincingly back at Varric. "It's a fine place. I think we'll be very comfortable there."
"Don't see why not. Hawke, I found a couple of cooks and a housemaid for you to meet, later."
"Sounds good. Send word with Tibby, they can meet us there this afternoon. I'd like to get moved in tomorrow. We don't particularly need them to do it, but it'd be nice to have help."
"So you'll be leaving us tomorrow, messeres?"
Aeryn shot the old man a mild look, "Just as we arranged, serah." As they mounted the stairs, the Starkish brother and sister pressed in from the dining room.
"Serah, have you seen our servant? He didn't return from the stables this morning."
"The elf? No, Messere Jacobi, I can't say that I have..." His obsequious voice followed them up the stairs.
Varric waited until they were safely behind their door and had checked the floor for snooping maids. Aeryn glanced at Fenris' door, still closed as she pushed the scarf from her hair and ruffled her bangs.
"What happened? I thought you two were just going for a stroll?"
"We were. What'd you hear?"
"Kayla tore in here a couple of hours ago, telling me you'd been arrested. I managed to keep her from shouting it all over the inn and sent her home. Didn't figure you wanted them hanging out around the jail, but I was about to come looking."
"Not arrested. Sebastian was attacked and I…" Aeryn shrugged. "They wanted to question us. But we're free. For the moment."
"Right." Varric's chuckle was bemused, "Leave it to you to find an assassin tucked in a marketplace. The bloodmages?"
Aeryn shook her head. "I don't think so. She had all the hallmarks of a merc. Killed a barber just to get in and no one recognized her. If it was the mages, they'd have taken the barber herself, I'd think. She just saw an opportunity. It was a good one."
"Damn. Close?" Varric glanced Sebastian over and Sebastian refrained from turning to display himself. It wasn't Varric's fault he'd been lured into complacency.
"Very." Close enough that Aeryn could still see the scratches of newly sharpened metal on the comb, every time she closed her eyes.
"She claimed to be a Crow." Sebastian added.
The two of them looked up at him and Varric shook his head in bemusement. "Well...I guess it's possible Zevran doesn't have all his birds in a row."
"That'd be ducks not crows. No, it's possible, but I don't think that's likely either. I think we're looking at another player."
"Your illustrious fat-fingered cousin?"
Sebastian nodded, hesitantly. "Perhaps. Or someone who supports him. There is another complication."
"Isn't there always?" Varric chuckled but it lacked it's normal rich tone.
Aeryn raised her chin. "Give me a minute to clean up, Bethany and Fenris need to hear, too."
Sebastian had twined his fingers with hers again and she gave his hand a squeeze. His other hand curved around her waist.
Hawke and her disciple were never shy about their public displays of affection anymore, but clinging touches combined with the way Vael's gaze hadn't left Hawke for a moment didn't escape Varric's observation. "Alright, Hawke. I'll go flag down your messenger and get that help checked out. I think...think I'll double check their references."
"What would I ever do without you, Varric?"
"Don't worry, Hawke, you won't have to find out anytime soon."
Sebastian waited until Varric had closed the door behind him and pulled Aeryn into a tight hug. She didn't resist, burying her nose in the warm wool doublet he'd worn out that morning. Thin and light, well-made and fashionable, so as not to draw eyes among Priden's unmartial populace.
Stupid. She'd not let him go out without his armor again. Nor would she. The neat leather jerkin she'd worn over her skirted trousers had barely turned the small blade the assassin had tried to slip between her ribs, thanks to the thin strips of silverite she'd had the seamstress work into the lining.
He murmured into her hair. "Thank you."
Aeryn tightened her arms, locking him against her. "Anytime. Preferably not soon, though."
"Hmm." Her body was tense as an elegant trap against him, a spring coiled so tightly that it was guaranteed to warp and ensnare any unwary passerby. "I won't let them…" Her head was tucked against his chest, and he curled his fingers into the short fine hair at the back of her head, as if he could hide her from the preying reach.
"No." Aeryn wanted to tell Sebastian she knew he wouldn't, feeling all his intent in the strength of his hands and the solid metronome of his heart.. But really...they had no power, now. He laid a claim to an old name and a bow and she had what she'd always had, skill and a willingness to do murder. If the Seekers came, if they lost a fight, found themselves cornered, those were nothing against the strong arm of the Chantry. so fly foolish Hawke
Can't. Not without him. Bethany, on the other hand...
'I'm going to ask Fenris to take Beth," she told him. "Probably back to Ferelden. I know it'll be harder going without them, but...you and Varric. They won't want you two and...there's only so much they can do to..".
She could feel herself tightening up and her voice choking, the road ahead tunnelling out and Sebastian's warm, reassuring presence fading as old panic, old as her earliest memories reached for her. No. They've never wanted me before. It wasn't her own fear she was remembering. Mother's. And Father's. Embarrassing really, that it could still find her after so many years past and so many worse endings faced.
Sebastian watched her, could almost see as she slipped away from him and back into the past. Her face buried against his chest and he shifted his hand, reflexively, cupping the back of her skull, stroking the delicate skin behind her ear.
He loaned her his presence and waited until she'd relaxed, squared her shoulders and come back to him and the present before he continued. "You have to ask her. You can't just send her away like an inconvenient child nor is she a soldier to follow your orders."
"But…" Aeryn bit off her objection. He was probably right. She pulled away to strip off her gloves and unwind the scarf from her neck.
Sebastian took the cloth from her. and folded it neatly."Trust me. I've a bit of knowledge as to what its like to be shuffled here and there by those who think they know best, hmm?"
She agreed with a sigh, "Yes, I suppose you do. But…you've said yourself, that a lot of good came out of it."
"When I was nineteen. And blind and stupid as to what I was doing to myself. Aeryn…"
She held up a placating hand. "Alright, fine. I'll ask."
"And you'll listen when she says no?" He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he tucked her scarf into her pack.
"I don't know." She popped her neck. "I just want her safe." Both of you, safe.
"I know that. I do. But you have to listen, leannan."
"I'm still oldest, I shouldn't have to." She groused; good naturedly, Sebastian thought, but her eyes were distant, still.
He tapped the end of her nose only to have her raise an elegant eyebrow at him. "Bethany is…"
"A grown woman. And well able to know her own mind." Aeryn repeated as if she'd tried to memorize it by rote. "Fine. Let's go talk to them."
Bethany and Fenris had been having a reading lesson Taking advantage of his bedridden state, Bethany had set Fenris on a task of copying out a few passages from a translation of The History of Thedas, a copy of which they'd found tucked in the chest in the room they'd occupied. It had been stuffed full of notes and the side margins had scribbles in three languages on many of the worn pages, but it was readable. Bethany looked up from the small pile she'd made of the gathered notes, her pleasant expression fading as she read their worry, took in Sebastian's half-trimmed hair.
Aeryn perched on the end of Fenris' bed, ruffling the edges of the book's pages with a restless thumb and smiled when his toes, tucked under a loose roll of blanket, touched her knee. "We've a...problem, I'm afraid."
"A complication, Varric said." Nodding to the dwarf who'd settled into the armchair by the fire.
"One or two. Someone tried to kill Sebastian this morning. An assassin. With poison and willing to get very close."
"They are dead." Fenris said it with confidence, only to breathe in sharply when Aeryn shook her head.
"No, she's not. Sebastian asked me to wait and a guard showed up before..."
"That was dangerous, Sebastian."
"Perhaps." Sebastian accepted Fenris' criticism. "Guard Captain Gellas was a fine host, the assassin is under surveillance. And he shared some information with us that is troubling." To say the least. He wasn't sure which was bothering her more. She'd strangled back the earlier fear that had surfaced so briefly to talk to the rest of their companions, now.
Utterly opaque, Aeryn could have been planning a day's outing when she casually continued. "According to the Guard Captain, not only is there some interest in my whereabouts, the interest is coming from the Seekers."
"The Seekers?" Fenris thought out loud. "That Sister Nightingale...Leliana, we met for the Grand Cleric worked for the Seekers, did she not?"
"Yeah." Aeryn was watching her sister pleat a fold in her dress with slender tanned fingers. "She was only there to warn us about the interest in Kirkwall. These are apparently after me."
Bethany looked up sharply, "Why? You're no mage."
"No. But I protected one who blew up a Chantry in the name of mage freedom, didn't I?" Aeryn said, a wan smile on her lips. "There's no reason for them to believe I wasn't in on it with Anders. I imagine, if they looked, they'd find plenty of Kirkwall's nobles willing to say I was. I had a good dozen of Anders' tracts in the library that I'd not gotten around to handing back to him. One in my nightstand. I'd a stash of staves and robes in a closet that I'd meant to sell that never got traded out. There's proof enough that I might be arming a rebellion, at the least inciting runaways," she finished with a hollow chuckle.
Sebastian had begun pacing again, but her words jerked him to a halt. "You think they've ransacked the estate?"
Sebastian's question ruffled the smooth calm she'd displayed, like a stone in water. "That's..that's what they do to the homes of mages and sympathizers. Like breaking up a badger sett. The estate was mostly stone, though. It might still be standing at least. I'm sorry, for Cousin Charade's sake. The last documents left it in her name." She'd tilted her head quizzically at him, at the anger that must have flickered across his face and tried to explain. "Father had us watch once or twice, so we'd...we were safely distant."
"He made you watch?" Sebastian wanted to be ill. From the corner of his eye he could see a faint trace of shock on Varric's face, the way Bethany's eyes had widened. Had she been too young to remember any of the thorns her father had left to fester under her sister's skin?
"I...don't recall him ever…" Bethany said hesitantly.
"Well, you were still fairly young that last time. Four or so, I think. Carver remembered, but..." Sebastian had bristled, fury gathering in the tight clench of his mouth and Aeryn decided not to mention how Father had reinforced the lesson. The family that had lived south of Redcliffe. The empty shell of a farmhouse a few miles from their place. Why they had to protect Bethany's secret. Why it was important. She glanced down at the fuzzy weft of the blanket tented over Fenris' feet.
Bethany glanced between them before she tried to dispel the sudden tension and bring them back to task. "But..I was in the Gallows. Surely I'd have been one of your runaways?"
"How many Templars survived? There was at least one who'd tell them you and I were at odds for most of our time in Kirkwall."
Bethany answered the unasked question, "Cullen wouldn't. Unless...he thought it might protect us to show that we weren't together."
"Alright. But...Keran? A few others who might not have realized we'd reconciled. Or would assume you were helping from inside."
"The underground. Damn, Hawke. I should have let up on those stories. There at the end, when…"
Varric was uncharacteristically solemn and Aeryn shook her head at him, her lips tipped up easily. "I don't recall ever telling you to stop, Varric. We...the stories helped get a lot of people free. Helped the mages trust us."
"If Cullen is Knight Commander and Aveline's still Captain, it is unlikely they've been giving out information to the Seekers freely." Too many variables; wind and time and distance and interference. Sebastian grimaced and Varric was clearly thinking along the same lines.
"We need a source from Kirkwall...it'd help to know what's being said. I'll look into it, again. See if i can't turn up more recent gossip."
"You might try and see if Elegant's still in the city. Far as I know, she still likes me and she always knew what was up," Aeryn shrugged. "Well, we don't mean to keep a low profile at any rate. The Captain here knows my name, knows who I am, and has an order from the Chantry to tell them where I am. He's accepted that Sebastian's working for the Chantry and that I'm working for Alistair right now and apparently that absolves him from doing anything rash. We don't know if he really does or how long it'll last. We don't know that Cleve will agree to work with us once he knows about the Seekers. Or Lord Robard or anyone else for that matter."
Aeryn had turned blank all of a sudden as she listed the new problems they might be facing, and Sebastian laid his hand on her shoulder, lightly. "Except Alistair, who's already asked our aid for any trouble from the Chantry that shows up in Ferelden."
"Hmm." Giving herself a small shake, Aeryn turned to her sister to take the opening. "Bethany...I would like you to go back."
"Back? To Ferelden?"
Aeryn nodded.
"Without you?"
Slower, Aeryn nodded again.
"No!" Her younger sister drew herself up to full height. "You can't do that! This is not eight years ago! I'm not a child and you are definitely not my mother."
"Which is why I'm asking." Sebastian shook his head at Aeryn's innocent tone.
Bethany scowled at Aeryn, sitting with her hands out and looking completely reasonable. "Oh, are you? Well, then my answer is I won't go. You've got nothing to hold over me this time."
Well, that's certainly not true. Aeryn caught Fenris' eye and raised her eyebrow. He tilted his head and flicked a finger across the sheet. Aeryn pressed her knee against his foot. He nodded but before he could speak, Bethany shouted.
"Stop that!" Bethany looked up, startled, at Sebastian's muffled echo of her protest from behind his hand.
"They're right." Varric raised his hand to stop Aeryn from objecting. "Save it for fights and cheating at cards. If we're in this together, we need to know what you're thinking."
Fenris explained, "She was asking if I would go as well." And if he agreed with her, but Fenris had been keeping her secrets a long time. He did agree. What battle they had seen so far had not set well with Bethany, somehow. Her sleep had been troubled.
"And what was your answer?"
He looked up at Bethany and said simply, "That I would, but only to see you to safety at Alistair's court."
Bethany made a small noise of frustration. "I'm not going. So the two of you can just…" With another grunt she flung her hands up and walked out of the door, brushing Varric's shoulder and shooting Sebastian a half smile for their support as she left.
"Well, asking went so well."
"It is...frustrating when you do that in normal conversation, leannan."
She grumbled, her shoulders twitching in. "Fine. We'll try not to, not that it ever seemed to bother anyone right up to this moment."
"Who was going to object? Merrill thought it fascinating, Isabela could carry in on the conversation, and Anders wasn't about to give anyone more ammunition over his crush on you."
"And you?"
Sebastian gritted his teeth before he admitted, "Jealousy is a sin. But it is one I've met and dealt with before."
"You are not!"
"Ohh, but I am." Faint color on his cheekbones emphasized his muttered assurance. Fenris swallowed a cough as Varric fiddled with the frogging of his coat.
"Oh." She blinked. "Well."
Fenris cleared his throat again and after he took a sip of the tea Sebastian had offered him added, "Someone should go after Bethany."
"Someone being me?"
"Perhaps." The foot nudged against her was less subtle.
"Hmm."
But Bethany was back at the door. "No one needs to come after me. I'm staying. But you all… You have to listen. I can't keep healing you up from catastrophic injuries. I''m not a healer. It's...very draining and it's starting to affect me. You're all going to have to start making a more conscious effort." She pointed at Aeryn, but included them all in a glower that reminded Sebastian of his tutors at the Chantry. "No more foolish chances. Take precautions. Use the buffers I know you all know. I can make very potent potions ahead of time, that's a skill not a talent. Between us, we can manage. I think it will be fine, but...you have to help me. I can fight. But I can't...you have to give me a break from the heavy healing."
Aeryn snapped, shaking Sebastian's hand from her shoulder. "This is a foolish chance. You realize that right? Staying with me-with the Seekers after us- means you are like as not to end up in another Circle and probably Tranquil. Or dead."
Bethany met her sister's eyes, gone a bit cold, with an equally steady glare. "Then I'll live free as I can. And not run away and let you do it for me, again. And as for you," Bethany pointed an accusing finger at Fenris who leaned back against his pillows, somewhat abashed. "You can stop taking her side against me, right now. Are we clear?"
He nodded, dark brows lifting and almost nervously, chuckled, "We...are." "As you wish, Bethany. Forgive me."
"Hmph. Drink your tea."
"Nonetheless, I suppose Varric's right. I've let you all pointing to me as the leader of this merry band go to my head. I'll keep my orders to the battlefield, from now on." That distant look closed her features again but when Sebastian moved to touch her, Aeryn's shoulder twitched subtly away from his fingers, her knee moved just out of Fenris' reach. She managed to make herself smaller, somehow. He clenched his hand, resisting the urge to pull her attention to him.
Relenting, Bethany tried again to appeal to her sister's sense, "Aeryn, I understand why. But, surely you see I can't?"
"No, I don't see it at all, actually." Bethany opened her mouth to argue but Aeryn continued. "But that's what you want and we can certainly use your help, can we not?" She looked up at Sebastian though she didn't catch his eyes.
He nodded, cautiously, "Yes, if I'm allowed to have my opinion."
A frown flickered across her face but Aeryn answered cooly. "So, we'll be more careful and you...will live as you wish. You proved to me years ago that I've no way to keep you if you won't be kept." She slid off the cot. "Varric, you said we could meet that cook?"
"Yeah, should be someone here pretty soon with a note back from Steph."
"Fine. I need to clean my knives, if you'll excuse me." Aeryn padded out of the room in stocking feet, stripping off the outer layer of skirted coat to her tunic as she went.
"She's just worried about you, Sunshine." Varric told her, as Bethany leaned against the wall, looking as if she'd fought a battle.
Bethany nodded reluctantly breathing deeply, "I know, Varric. But…"
"You can't let her walk over you."
"No, I can't. If I thought I was a danger to you all, you know I'd go, right?"
"Hawke has never liked being a target. She'll be out of temper until she works through it." Fenris reminded them, the grave tone at odds with the half-smile he gave Bethany.
Sebastian nodded ruefully, "Especially since the prison. Varric, I hate to ask you, but..."
"Yeah, I need to find some ears back home. Good thing I'm such a handsome guy, they'd get tired of me downtown, otherwise." He buttoned up a few of the carved buttons on his coat and followed Hawke out of the door.
Sebastian lingered, lost in thought, as Bethany tidied the blankets at Fenris' feet and then sat down to the desk to finish the list she'd been composing of things she needed to kit out a still room.
Fenris took his book back up, glancing occasionally at Sebastian's still figure. After a few minutes, he asked, "Sebastian, would you like me to…"
Startled out of his reverie, Sebastian blinked for a moment and then sighed, "No. I wanted to give her a moment to get settled. Forgive me for the intrusion. I'll take myself out of your hair." He glanced at Bethany, who had looked up at him. "She'll see your side of it. Eventually." His unspoken I hope settled on the air between them.
"Probably not, Sebastian. She's always been free to choose her path with little consequence. It'll be hard to make her see why I won't stay safe."
"Free to choose her path? Is that what you call it?"
Bethany gritted her teeth. "It's not my fault she chose otherwise as often as she did."
"No. I suppose we both know who bears that fault." Sebastian bowed abruptly and, leaving, closed the door behind him.
Fenris watched his friend leave and turning, saw Bethany had bowed her head; dark hair waving loose, obscuring her face.
She stood like that for a moment and then glanced up at him. "Sometimes, for all that he's good, for all that he's offered to be my brother...I'm not sure if he likes me very much."
"Sebastian has been an admirer of yours for some time, Bethany. It isn't you he's angry with."
"No?"
Fenris scowled, considering whether or not to say his piece then shook his head and flung his hand out. "He brought us...her...here. He's expecting her to fight a war that will put him on the front line. And he knows her now in a way he couldn't have when they first devised this plan. He's endangering her by reclaiming that name of his and putting a target on his back. We were safe and well suited in Ferelden, but they had to come back to the Free Marches, where she's wanted with little protection to fall behind to return to a home that may have nothing for him. He's comparing himself to your parents."
"Maker, Fenris." Bethany sat beside him careful not to jostle the cot and slid her hand next to his. He crooked his smallest finger over hers and felt his lips echo her tiny smile.
"It's only that..I'd have sworn that the only person who ever loved Aeryn as much as Sebastian was our father. He adored the ground she walked on. No one ever doubted she was his favorite." She shook her head. "It's hard to reconcile...what he must have done to make her...You never knew him but, you knew our mother. Did you think...was she so hard on Aeryn after I...left?"
"She was." She waited while he weighed his words and finally shook his head. "I am not the best person to ask. Your mother was always very kind to me."
"And Sebastian is generally very kind to me. But, it's disconcerting to think...how much power he could have over my future, if this goes the way they hope. And if I put Aeryn in danger, if something happens to her protecting me...who will he blame?"
Fenris could not think of a comforting answer, but when she curled her hand into his, he closed his long, warm fingers over hers before he took up his book and began, carefully, to read the description of the construction of the College of Magi in Nevarre. Bethany watched him for a moment before she leaned back against the wooden headboard, curling her knees up to listen.
Seated in the corner of the room across from the low bedframe, Aeryn had her small knives fanned out in front of her, points out and hilts towards her. Barefoot, bare armed she sat tailor-fashioned in their midst. Her spare whetstone placed at a precise angle to her left and proceeding from left to right in the spread of blades, she was engrossed in the smooth sound of steel against the dark oiled stone in her hand.
Aeryn treated her sharpening like a ritual, the tools of her trade as sacred to her as candles and robes in the sacristy before Chant began. Her eyes were closed, as if she sharpened the blade to a note she could only hear.
Sebastian accepted the silence that met him. She knew he was here. Instead of interrupting her, he knelt by the window and gave thanks for his life, more formally than he'd managed in days.
Enough time passed that the shadows in the room shifted. Aeryn noticed after awhile that Sebastian's murmured prayers were running at the same rhythm as her sharpening. Or had she matched his pace? Hard to tell.
"Do you want to go to the Chantry?" she asked, voice rusty, at the end of the verse.
It took him a moment to shift from the Chant's rhythms to answer her. "No. I'll go in the morning and ask a bit of covered flame to light candles for a private altar."
Aeryn nodded, watching her own hands work before offering, "That was always one of my favorite stories."
"Which?" He watched her resheathe the smallest blade the tiny curved piece of steel she'd removed two of the elf's fingers with. It was clean now and gleaming. Only her black stilleto remained in front of her, the rest of the blades tucked away.
"The bits of burnt tinder that Andraste's followers stole from the fire, that kept bursting back into flame every night when they camped in retreat. It was fun to think about, keeping the bits in packs and not getting set up quick enough, so that their backpacks kept catching fire." Snapping the small closures that held the blade to her palm, she looked up at him, and the bewilderment plain on her face sent an ache like one of her daggers through his chest. "I don't understand."
"Understand what, then?" He needed to hear her out and, too, needed the physical space between them to maintain enough distance to listen instead of comfort.
"Why I'm never allowed to keep anyone safe? I don't understand why it's such a sodding crime for me to want to do that." Aeryn trailed off, suddenly uncertain.
Sebastian started twice to answer the question, fighting between the urge to allow her anything and wanting to reassure her. Finally settling on, "And now you know how we feel."
"What? Sebastian, she's the only family I have left...why?"
"And who do we have, but you? And what will happen to you, keeping her...us, safe?"
"Nothing ever happens to me! It's not…"
Sebastian was on his feet as Aeryn glared at him, all the calm the prayers had laid over the morning's stress dissipated like holy smoke. "It is exactly the same. Do not lessen our fear. Whatever you think of yourself, you are worth no less to us." Pacing, he whirled on her. "Here's a thing I do not understand. After all we've learned of your father, why is it you still believe that you are not just as precious…"
Aeryn snarled, "Don't bring him into this."
He clenched his fists. "He's always in this. He is always there, whispering in your ear telling you you are only fit to stand between someone else and death. So let me tell you a thing, Aeryn Hawke." Sebastian spat her family name as he stalked towards Aeryn and her eyes narrowed dangerously, her stance shifting wider. Fine. Let it be. He had to say it.
"I have been a believer in Andraste my whole life. Even before I was a follower, I believed in her and the authority of her holy Chant. I gave ten years of my life to that devotion, believing that the Divine and her Mothers and Seekers and Templars were working the will of the Maker." He flexed his fingers slowly out to touch a strand of dark hair, where it caught the light and turned to flame. Aeryn didn't flinch, her eyes fixed on his face as he ground out, "And if one of the Divine's Hands so much as snipped this hair on your dragonthick skull, Maker help me, I would rain down such fury upon their heads that they would die before they could blink. Without one thought to the consequence. You mean that much. And don't you dare, ever again, tell me otherwise."
"Sebastian…" she whispered.
Softer, he pleaded, "You are all we have. All I have. You say you don't understand why you're not allowed to protect her? Your sister at least has the sense to tell us when we're expecting too much. All you do is take more on, and expect us to stand aside and watch you break under the strain. She loves you. Her whole life, except for the years in the Gallows, she watched you sacrifice and bury your pain to keep her safe. Why would you think she'd consent to it now, that she's finally seen the cost of it?"
"I didn't mind." She said it simply, gently. Her hand sketched the air next to his cheekbone as if it was too fragile to touch. "I don't."
"We mind."
He did. It was written in the ferocity with which he spoke and the barely restrained violence in his touch. He'd laid it out for her as plainly as if he'd painted it. All he had? It wasn't true, not entirely. Fenris and Bethany would take good care of him if anything ever happened to her.
Aeryn let her fingers brush his cheekbone and Sebastian turned into the faint contact as if he was starving.
They wouldn't be enough, would they? Would it be enough for you?
Aeryn turned the idea of Bethany's guilt over in her head. It felt odd. But...that was the whole reason so much of her training had been secret, wasn't it? Not just to keep Mother happy, but to keep it from Bethany. Father had never explained why, exactly.
Guilt, then. Guilt enough to send her soft-hearted sister running to the Templars. And hadn't that been just what had happened? But not only guilt. Bethany was as much Hawke as anyone, certainly enough of her own woman to rebel against the...cage she'd been in. She'd wanted it to be her choice. One cage to another...did choice make that much difference?
"I am trying to get it. I'm just...tired of being the last one standing." Aeryn looked down and then back up at him. "Afraid of it."
The last of his anger receding left Sebastian drained and he sighed, "I know." He kissed her palm, murmuring, "I've half a mind to turn around and take us all back to Ferelden, tomorrow."
Her brows lifted, "But, you can't."
"Oh, I could."
"It's your home, Sebastian. You need to see this through. Even if we don't stay. Even if we get there and decide it's not possible. You need to see." She gripped his arm, reminding him of the soldier she'd been. "I had Lothering hanging in the back of my head for so long. Seeing Ferelden, Denerim at least, rebuilding made leaving again...easier."
"We will give Cleve to the end of the week, then we're going. I do not want to be living in this city with a threat over you like that."
Sebastian had that stubborn set to his chin, but he was looking up at her through his long reddish brown lashes and Aeryn inwardly sighed at the unfair combination hit. "Alright. If you're ready to go, we'll go. It's your campaign. I'll need to tell Varric to cancel his cook. No sense in keeping one for a week or less. We should keep the house, though. It's...a locus. They'll expect us to come back and it might distract them from traipsing after."
"Fine." He dropped his hand and stepped back from her to turn back to the window. "Thank you."
Aeryn took a deep breath, appreciating the space. Her head was spinning a little from Sebastian's sudden anger. It settled so far under his usual gentle calm that when it sprang up, it was disconcerting. The way it sent chimes ringing down her spine. Disorienting. To say the least. Bloody Void.
But he'd had a sodding stressful morning, hadn't he? Death at his throat while she mused over his pretty blue eyes. Even Sebastian's posture, normally so beautifully upright when he stood, had taken a beating. Poor darling.
Crossing the room, Aeryn reached out to spread her hands over the breadth of his shoulders; he slouched under her fingers as she kneaded, tension rippling under the wool shirt.
"Long enough to restock, long enough for you to feel we're rested and in trim." He pressed back into her hands as she hugged him.
Leaning her forehead against his back, she breathed in. "A week is enough. If Cleve's not back, we'll go. I should tell Varric to cancel the cook. And arrange severance for Bindy and Kayla."
"Ah... Varric's gone out again."
"You didn't make him? He's been running all over town since we got here."
"He offered?" And he had no interest in seeing Aeryn scrub her fingers to the bone working to keep them all fed while they waited for Cleve.
Aeryn groaned, "I owe him a good night in. Possibly a bar full of fawning admirers. Possibly a bar." She wanted to ask if she was forgiven, but she didn't think she was. She wasn't sure he could forgive her for something that was just...part of her. Swallowing, she added, "When you go to the Chantry, take Fenris or Varric."
Sebastian turned around in her arms, frowning at the blunt order and her hollow tone but before he could say anything there was a knock at the door.
"Just a moment." Aeryn was tugging her jerkin back on as Sebastian opened the door to reveal Lidia.
"Excuse me, messeres. There's a dwarva by the name of Hedda Bruckar waiting for you, downstairs in the dining room. Says she had an appointment."
"Well, that's one thing we can take care of for Varric. Send her up, please." Aeryn spoke beside him as she restrapped a belt in place, stepping into the boots placed close by. She turned on her heel as the maid dipped a curtsey, striding to the small table that held the wash basin and an oval mirror. Quickly, as he watched, she retouched her kohl and the lipstain, laying a dusting of powder over her pale face and rendering her mask perfect again.
"Aeryn…" But she'd shifted, again. Drawing up elegance around her, as much a cloak as any she'd worn. He caught a glimpse of Leandra in the queenly way she held her head.
"Let's deal with this, hmm?" He looked hurt but Aeryn slipped past him as the door to the shared sitting room opened to admit a stylishly dressed older dwarva with a small chapbook and a neatly slicked back bun over her high round forehead.
"You're Lady Hawke?" She had a deep rich voice and Aeryn dipped her head, in acknowledgement.
"So I am. I'm sorry to say, we've brought you out needlessly. We won't be staying long enough to need a cook." Aeryn tried to dismiss her briskly.
"I see. Well. May I ask why?"
"Circumstances have changed and we'll be leaving town in the next few days. There's no longer a position."
"Serah Tethras seemed to be under a different impression when he visited this morning with directions and to taste my piecrust."
"It was a sudden change of plans."
Something to do with why there's been Guards nosing around about you?"
"Guards?" Void.
"A City Guard followed me from my sister's butcher shop all the way here. Probably still out there," she jerked her rounded chin to the window and Sebastian went to adjust the shade.
"She's right." He affirmed and Aeryn turned a bland smile on the erstwhile cook.
"We'd be too much trouble for so short a period. I am sorry to have brought you out. May I make up for your time?"
She'd reached for her belt purse but Hedda waved her off. "No trouble. I know Tulla here in the kitchen, I'll pop in and have a chat before she starts supper. But...you'll be here a few days? Who'll do your work in that big house? I went by, just to take a gander."
Aeryn spread her hands. "There are a few of us, and we're all accustomed to doing for ourselves."
Hedda clicked her tongue. "Can I say something?"
"Go ahead." Sebastian urged her despite the cool glance Aeryn sent him.
"That's going to make you look bad. Serah Tethras said you had doings with the Keep, that you might be having guests from high up?"
"That's no longer…"
"Even if you're just here for a day...that neighborhood's going to talk about you. You want any sort of reputation...you need a cook and some scullery maids bopping around the markets being discreetly gossipy. You need a doorman to take your messages. Folks talk, Lady. Even if you don't want me...and I'll tell you I'm a dandy cook and there's not a soul who'll tell you different. Tulla's been trying to get me to leave my sister's shop and come make pies for her for the whole year since my husband died. Even if you don't want me...you want some one. Or there's going to be talk you're not what you say." She gripped her chapbook in two small square hands, ending with a nod.
Aeryn blinked. "Is that your recipe book?"
"It is."
"May I see it?"
Hedda handed the handmade book over. There was a bit of floury grit on the leather cover, a few marks where a finger had left a streak of lard turned several of the pages transparent. But the recipes were neatly recorded and lined with notes. good for finicky stomachs, fine on cool mornings, best crust for hot weather.
Sebastian looked over Aeryn's shoulder. "Is that a recipe for fish pie?"
"It is. It's a favorite. I use rock shrimp and steamed scallops this time of year though."
And potatoes?
She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, no. That's a stretcher and with the crust, its too heavy. Onions and mushrooms and diced sweet peppers."
"Ah." Sebastian smiled and Aeryn glanced at him questioningly. "That's the way our cook used to make them," he explained.
"Someone I might know, serah? That's a local dish."
"No, Mistress Hedda. Long ago, I'm afraid and she's gone to the Maker's side since." He gave her a small bow that sent a fresh blast of warmth across her coppery skin.
He liked her. Blast. "Well and good, but we'd generally want plain cooking; porridge in the mornings, roast meats and simple soups at dinner and supper. There'll need to be a cold tray available at night and anytime fish is served, you'll have to provide another meat. One of our company is averse."
"Easily done enough."
"I expect a quiet, discreet household. There will be no gossip allowed about us."
That clearly took her aback. She frowned as Aeryn handed her back her recipes. "Now, messere. That's somewhat hard."
"No gossip about who comes and goes or household habits. Anyone who does is out the door, no reprieves and no pay past that day." Aeryn tipped her head. "You want to trade recipes or what we wear, talk about the hired boy next door's arse, that's fine. Anything beyond that is off limits unless we tell you differently. Do you know the scullery maid Serah Tethras has hired?"
"My cousin's neighbor's daughter. She's a quiet little spark. Good hand with hair, too." She leaned in, with a small smile. She'd noticed Sebastian's uneven cut and Aeryn's closely cropped cap.
"Not necessary." Aeryn flicked her hand. "Varric arranged the salary? I'll pay by the day, since it's so short a time."
Hedda nodded, "Very generous...even for a week. I'm saving up to move to Wildervale. I'd like to start an inn. Or Hercinia. Always liked the seaside," she mused.
"We'll have a couple of message runners. Not living in, but you'll have them at your disposal most days, so long as they can drop and run when I need it done, but no heavy lifting. They're just kids."
"Are they expected not to chatter, too?"
"Yes."
Hmph. Hedda seemed to think it unlikely.
"Those are my terms."
"Well...I suppose. For a week, we can all keep our tongues tied."
"I like a quiet house." Aeryn repeated evenly and for the first time, Hedda shifted her weight uncomfortably. "And you may be in danger, working for us. This is not a pleasure visit."
"Yes, messere. I can see that." She glanced curiously at Sebastian, again. He stood behind Aeryn, trying not to interfere. Well, not anymore than he had. "The pay is generous and...you'll forgive me, outside work's not easy to come by these days. I can handle a butcher knife and a rolling pin pretty handy, if need be."
"Fine. We'll be shifting camp tomorrow, first thing. Feel free to come poke in the kitchens, make a list of what you'll need though I think all the gear is in place for basics. Deliveries from the market can start at 10 bells so long as you're there to organize it."
"I'll be there, bright and early." Aeryn shook her hand and Sebastian bowed again. As soon as Hedda closed the door behind her, Aeryn strode to the window to eye the Guard over. There were two, now, he realized as he joined her by the sill.
"I'm going to catch up with Varric. See if one of them follows me. The other might be waiting for Hedda to leave."
"I'll come with you. We can have Fenris watch…"
"No, stay here. I don't want to have to split my attention." Aeryn snapped the last as she snagged her daggers up and fixed the strap. "We still don't know if that assassin had a partner and you're still recovering from the trek, too."
"And if they're out for you, too?"
Aeryn sheathed the slender black dagger away. "Then we'll have more information than we had earlier. Stay here." She took a deep breath and placed her hand on his chest, willing herself to ask, "Please, love? Varric will be back, he needs to know that we've changed our minds about staying, if I miss him."
Sebastian felt the indignation drain out of him, leaving him nearly limp. Aeryn had bitten her lip and cocked her head up at him, beseeching. And he had a small victory, getting her to keep the household help. "If it's necessary. Be careful."
"As I can be." She tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, quirking a smile at his sigh. He'd manipulated her fair enough into keeping the cook. Couldn't let him win every time, though.
Ten minutes later, Aeryn was strolling in the marketplace, feeling the guardsman's eyes on the back of her neck. He was scout-trained, reasonably light on his feet and quick to note how she had occasionally changed directions without having to obviously change his. Good man. Gellas should commend him.
She dropped by the dressmaker's and checked on the progress of the last of her order, a smart black dress made to recent style that could handle being stuffed in a pack for easy travel. Madame was out, but her daughter assured Aeryn that the last of the embroidery should be finished by morning and was kind enough to give her directions to the next couple of places on Aeryn's errand list.
She'd intended to bring Sebastian to the tailor again, but that wasn't particularly necessary now. She picked up three more pairs of wool socks for Fenris' narrow feet, tucking them away. Boots. Had to get him out for boots. The weather was warming, but that new skin on his feet would be too tender for any sort of trekking, yet.
As she crossed the street to the jeweler's she noticed a second guard had joined the first. A tall, rangy, woman, a wicked looking crossbow slung across her broad shoulders. Aeryn scanned the rest of the area. They looked to just be sharing a few moments of downtime while their patrol routes crossed. And out of the corner of her eye, she spied…
"Bindy, you ought to be in school."
"Out for the month, messere."
"That so?"
"Teacher's gone to visit her sick mum so we've got a break." He munched a dried plum from the small sack she offered. "You in trouble, Messere?"
"Just Hawke, pup."
"Hawke," he tried it out and shrugged, but his curious round eyes never left her.
"No, not really. Have you seen Varric about?"
"He left the inn about two marks ago, Kayla caught up to him 'case he needed a message sent."
Well, I don't need a message sent. I'm just out shopping, alright?"
"Sure. I'm just waiting for something for mum. Be another ten minutes or so, if you wanted a bit of company."
Aeryn chuckled. "You stay out of trouble. If trouble finds me, you hightail it. Got me?"
"Yes, messere."
"This a good shop, you think?" She pointed out the jeweler.
He squinted. "Eh, I guess. Rich folks mostly. I never been in."
"Well, that's about to change I guess. Pretend to be a pageboy, hmm?"
He tucked his snack away and smoothed down his thick bangs, trying to stand taller. "It'd be easier with some fancy clothes."
"You're right, but if you can't fool folks in your own gear, you won't fool them too long in an embroidered hassock." She handed him the small leather basket she used for shopping and told him,"Hold this and come along."
Swinging the door open chimed a series of bells, a string attached to the door led to the back room. Mostly just a loud notice of customers, but Aeryn noted smaller bells fixed to the high narrow windows and painted to match the brown trimwork. Not a bad security measure. She lifted her fingers and the boy stood neatly in the middle of the shop, easily seen. Good lad. He knew how to make himself conspicuous and unthreatening.
"May I help you, serah?"
The merchant was a stockily built woman about Aeryn's own age with delicate gold bracelets winding up her solid forearms and spiraling black curls caught in matching gold combs. "Are you the jeweler?"
"I am, indeed! Thalia de Pesset, at your service"
Aeryn nodded towards the small case in the display. I'm looking for rings. I saw a piece of yours at my dressmakers and thought to see if you'd anything I'd be interested in.
Ah, you attend Madame's! I make her a piece now and again to match some confection she's designed! Was it the feathered choker? I was quite pleased with how that turned out!"
Aeryn smiled at the bubbly woman. "It was."
"I doubt I'd have many that might fit you...hmm. She'd crossed the floor and started to reach out to take up Aeryn's hands, muttering to herself, "Small hands but tsk, you've been popping your knuckles! Didn't your mother ever warn you off such?" She broke off as she took in the small scars, the repeated injury and proof of Aeryn's trade. "Ah. Perhaps your mother wasn't such a fine influence, then?" She paused with her hands out and glanced down into Aeryn's face.
"She did her best. But the ring is for someone else."
"Feathers, still though? You aren't the feathery sort, I'd think." The jeweler backed away, chattering, and started to flip through a small sketch book. "Ah!" She held it out.
Aeryn looked at the charcoal drawing. "Something like that would do nicely." She flicked open a small pocket and laid a simple silver ring on the table in front of them, pale maple polished until it shone like stone. "That's the size I'd need."
"Surely. Big fellow? Long fingers or stubby? I'd make a narrower ring for a short-fingered man, you see."
"Long. Elegant. Usually well-kept."
"Lucky you." Thalia pursed her mouth. "I've rose and yellow gold and silver in stock. Platinum will take a day or two to cadge. And it will take a bit to carve the mold...all told. A week."
Aeryn set a small linen purse next to the ring, tugging open the drawstring. Three perfect stones; a ruby, a small square emerald, and a carved yellow diamond slid out. She palmed the stones and raised an eyebrow at the intake of breath.
"In a hurry, are we? Maybe six days?" Aeryn laid the ruby out. "Five?"
The diamond followed. "Four days and I'll have to bump clientele."
Instead of the emerald, Aeryn laid out a rendered bar of silverite.
"Make it out of this. You can keep the scrap and I'll add in the emerald upon completion."
Shrewdly, Thalia narrowed her eyes. "I usually work for coin. Stones like that, I'll have to…"
Aeryn shrugged and swept up the jewels. "Bindy, you said you knew another jeweler?"
"Oh, yes ma'am!" The lad perked right up and headed for the door, as if eager to lead her off.
"No! No, now. Wait. I thought since you were in a hurry you might bargain a little."
"I'm in a hurry enough to not want to waste time with negotiations."
"My work is the highest quality." Her hands twisted, allowing the warm light from several sconces to catch on the subtle cutwork and curve of her own bracelets. "There's no waste in taking time for a piece of art."
"Oh, I don't doubt. But I'm only in town for a few days and this was something of a whim."
"A whim you're willing to pay dearly for." She leaned over the counter, conspiratorily, now that she had the solid wood between them. It was too low for any real protection, but perhaps she felt herself heavy enough to keep someone like Aeryn from yanking her about. There were two small cases that would be easily cracked, displaying enamelled combs and a spray of pearl and pink gold earrings in a small variety of spiralling shapes.
Redirecting the path her thoughts had taken and tightening her hands on the bag, Aeryn shrugged, "I don't have them often."
"Everything you're wearing is rune-marked and charmed. I know someone who could…"
"No." Aeryn growled the word out and Thalia's dark eyes widened.
"I...see."
"Simple metalwork, and metalwork alone is all I'm looking for. And I assure you, I will know if it's been tampered with."
The jeweler looked at Aeryn down her nose, the tiny glint of a jewel on the left side cool and distracting. "My metalwork is never simple. But I understand. I was just trying to cadge some work for a friend."
Aeryn took a mental breath and lashed down her temper. There was no way for this woman to know what had gone on today. She wasn't likely another assassin, cursing rings for profit. Then again, the quick work of the fake barber, to place herself just so with less than a quarter of an hour between when Sebastian had spied the sign and when they'd wandered over? No. Stop. "Of course. Not today."
As if she were similarly redirecting herself, Thalia re-fixed her business-like bustle. "Come by in a couple of days. I'll pour one of base metal and we'll see if you like the design?"
"That sounds fine. Thank you." Aeryn handed over the linen pouch, watching the jeweler's skilled fingers, marked by tiny burn scars, feel out the shapes inside, gauge the weight.
Bindy followed her out and waited until they'd crossed the square before he nudged her elbow. "You okay, mes..Hawke?"
Aeryn gave him a tight smile as her eyes scanned over his head for... Yeah, there they were. Rangy crossbow and...ah, the one who'd escorted them to see the Captain. "I'm fine. You did excellent work, by the way. Perfect attitude to lend me an air of upright citizen."
"Well, so you are. At least, so's I've told my mum." He grinned, showing off crooked front teeth like small river pearls. "I might have said you'd come by, meet her?"
"I will, tomorrow if that's fine with her. After we finish our move over to the house. I'm going back to the inn, like as not, Varric's back by now. Didn't you have an errand to run?"
"Nah. Just seeing what you were up to." He caught the silver she flipped him and tucked it away as he dashed off. "Thanks for the plums, Hawke! See you tomorrow"
She decided she'd had enough of being observed. Let them wonder a bit. An older elf, with a handcart full of winter squash and a sack of apples; all looking a bit wrinkled and tired after long cold months in storage, crossed her path and cast her into shadow.
Three heartbeats later, she glanced over her shoulder at the two bewildered guards. Grinning to see the scout; clearly put out with them as he raised his hands and pointed, sending them scurrying to find her.
She'd let them catch up at the inn. No sense in making things hard on people just trying to get a day in, especially since they'd stayed out of her hair. Such as it was. Still. All the trouble Gellas said he was having and enough free time to set his troops out on her?
Not a good sign. But there were measures she could take. Aeryn let the shadows tug at her heels as she turned down an alley.
The small stolid brick house, tucked down a scenic tree lined street not too far from their own, was simple enough to find. The rowhouse beside it had a beautiful wrought iron grate running up the farside and a flat portico that provided a decent look out. Aeryn perched on a brick protuberance in the shade cast by an ancient pine and waited, braiding small wreaths out of the long, fragrant, dry needles that had fallen on the roof around her.
A halfmark and eight wreaths passed silently, providing her all the information she needed. Sebastian would be wondering where she was.
Sebastian had done his best. Worked his bowstring, checked over his quiver, examined the straps of his harness and belt for worn leather or cracked stitching. All fine. His armor was polished and ready for...whatever. He'd even sat down and written out the first paragraph of one of Elthina's sermons on Transfigurations, echoing in his head. Gain and loss. Fire and light. Uncertainty.
An hour later, he was struggling with uncertainties of a baser sort.
Go down to dinner? That Starkish couple might be there again. Aeryn had been quite interested in them, in their hinted troubles. He wasn't quite as skilled as she in eavesdropping, but he might be able to divine a detail or two that she and Varric wouldn't catch. Accents varied between noble and upper-class rankings, rather a lot. Place names and such might tell him where they were from.
Or would she be annoyed with him, for leaving the room? So be it. He wasn't going to stay locked up. Surely she didn't expect it.
He paused. There were clouds gathering and a deeper chill seeping through the windows. Perhaps he could go down to the stables and set up a small practice court, before the weather changed?
His stomach growled and decided him. He tugged his boots back on and started to open the door.
Only to reveal Bethany, her hand raised to knock and warm eyes wide at his sudden appearance. "Gracious, Sebastian!"
"Forgive me, I didn't realized you were there. Did you need something?"
"Just to ask if you'd finished your pacing and knocking about? I thought I could finish your haircut." She held up a small pair of steel scissors. "Fenris fell asleep, finally. His lungs have cleared, thank the Maker for simple gifts."
"I am glad to hear it. Was I disturbing you?"
She shook her head. "Not at all." A glance around the room showed him alone and clicking her tongue in disapproval, Bethany asked him, "Did Aeryn abandon you?"
"She went to look for Varric. I imagine they've found each other, by now." Priden wasn't that big. Or perhaps he should be worried. No, the guard was still outside. Surely if Aeryn had run foul of Gellas' suspicion, he'd have moved on. Acted.
"She left you here? Well, good to know it isn't just me she wants locked in a velvet showcase."
Startled by their similar trail of thoughts, Sebastian demured, "That's not it. Well, not entirely. She is having to look in so many directions just now. I think she needed a bit of space to think and too, we have some company." He drew her into the room and pointed out the guard that had stayed behind. "There were two. She wanted to see if she was followed."
"And was she?" The guard looked restless, shifting his feet and rearranging himself against the low stable wall.
"Right after her, yes. Captain Gellas isn't as trusting as he claims to be."
"Well, who can blame him, really, if Varric's tales have travelled beyond Kirkwall. The Champion has quite a reputation for mayhem. I wouldn't want her in ten miles of any city I was fond of." Bethany saw Sebastian gather himself for an argument and waved him off. "Oh stop. The Champion, not my sister. I know well enough they aren't one in the same?"
He had been about to vault into Aeryn's defense. "Ah." Rubbing a hand over his face, Sebastian stopped himself from scuffing a toe sheepishly.
She poked him towards the small leather chair with a laugh. "Sit down, you lovesick fool. Your beloved is safe from me and my tongue."
He went with good grace and let Bethany tuck a linen towel around his shoulders before she dipped his comb, lying comfortably besides Aeryn's brush, in the basin and proceeded to dampen his hair before she started her trimming.
They were quiet for a few moments, the snip of the scissors even and quick. Bethany tipped his head forward and felt him tense, suddenly. She quickly lifted her hands away and stood back, speaking quietly. "It's just me, Sebastian. It's all right."
"Yes, of course. Excuse me."
Bethany glanced at the scissors she held. They were Aeryn's, from her portable workbasket and lent to Bethany for bandaging. The black iron blades, despite their common usage, were very sharp. "It must have been frightening."
His shrug was more elegant than Aeryn's. "I barely had time to consider it. One moment I was getting a trim and the next she was…"
"Doing what she does?"
Sebastian raised his shoulders and let them drop again, trying to relax. "Exactly."
"Shall I stop?"
"No, finish please." He leaned forward and allowed her to make a clean line across the back of his neck. "It was sudden. And, not frightening but..I had not thought myself any sort of target. Now, I must consider that my cousin is adamant about keeping Starkhaven for his own and willing to kill me to ensure it."
"Does that surprise you?"
"I had not thought about Goran, beyond the fact that he was never a bad fellow. Slow and bumbling, I'd thought. But...power can change a person. Almost always, it changes them. And the things we have heard of could be simple neglect. Or not."
Bethany flicked one ruddy brown curl off his shoulder before she asked, "And are you willing to kill him, if he has changed?"
"I do not want it to come to that. I hope it will not. But if he is responsible for the elves leaving the city, if he has driven the merchants so that not even travelling caravans can do business there...if the city is in dire straits? I will not steal from him but I will...do what is necessary."
"You'll do it?" Her emphasis was stinging, but he didn't flinch as the scissors closed with a hiss behind the point of his jawbone.
"Are you asking me if I'll have Aeryn do my dirty work?" She set her hand on his shoulder asking for stillness and snipped around his ear. When she'd finished, he answered, "There are no traditions in Starkhaven for trial by combat between candidates for the throne, no precedents for what's to come. I can hope that I will be allowed to make my case before the nobles in civilized manner. I can hope that no one else will have to suffer to bring about a change but...if it comes to it, I will kill him."
His declaration hung in the air as she brushed away the gleaming flecks of cut hair that were clinging to his neck.
"You're all done, Sebastian. Your fake actually did you a fair job, before hand." She picked up Aeryn's hand mirror from the wash stand and handed to him. It was shorter than he'd worn it in years. More like it had been when he'd just left the Chantry. He touched the close cropped hair above his ears. In the reflection, there was a strand of silver glinting and he had to resist the throb of vanity urging him to pluck it out. He'd earned that silver. Mayhaps it even brought a bit of wisdom along with it.
Bethany met his eyes in the mirror. "It was uneven, I had to trim a bit close."
"It's fine, you've done it well. You Hawkes, always full of surprising talents." Sebastian threw off the moment, and he smiled up at her.
Bethany shook her head and folded the towel up to catch the hair that had dropped, "You're very sweet." If he'd been Carver, she'd have patted his head. If he'd been Carver, she'd never have called him sweet, though.
Pushing himself up out of his chair, his stomach protested the delay to his mealtime again and he excused himself as her lips twitched, clearly trying to hold back a wry comment. "Come and have lunch with me?"
"Aeryn said she'd planned for you to eat while you were out." She'd had a bowl of soup with Fenris. but another bite wouldn't go amiss.
"It got cut short and now I smell rabbit pie. And I am a bit fond of it." His sweet smile went a bit mischievous around the edges, like a glimpse of the boy he must have been once. Was it that hint of wildness, that had drawn Aeryn to the solemn brother Bethany remembered? She had liked the solemnity, that sense of gravity that surrounded him. And the eyes, why lie to herself, though they had always been fixed elsewhere; on Andraste, on the Maker, on Elthina. Until the day they had fixed on Aeryn. And not wavered again.
She pushed him towards the door, laughing. "Well, then, by all means let's go get some before you perish."