9:34 – Hightown and Lowtown

Offered and Lost

"…You have got to be kidding me."

"Aveline. Fantastic woman. Strong warrior. All her intelligence just melted away there. Don't worry, Seeker. We teased her for quite some time."

"I'm not sure if you're making it up or not!"

"Seeker? I couldn't make this up if I tried. Stories are supposed to be believable."

"Ah… well, true…"

"Anyway, though… well, sadly, it was only a few weeks after that when things started to go sour. Again."

"Thank you, but no," I refused politely, making sure to smile. "I'm looking for my mother at the moment."

"Ah, I see, Lady Hawke," the lordling replied. He looked saddened, yet accepting. Oh, well, that was nice. The last one I'd refused had gotten this sneering look on his face like he couldn't believe I refused him. "Perhaps another time?"

"Certainly." I nodded a goodbye to him and continued hunting through the small crowd for Mother. At her request, I was at a small garden party, hosted by the Harimanns. Interesting people, truly. I loved the daughter of the family, Flora, but Johane, the matriarch, rubbed me the wrong way. Perhaps it was because she kept trying to get me to marry her son, Brett, despite my repeated refusals. Boy, was I glad Mom didn't force me into things.

"Ah, Althea!" I was also getting far more accustomed to hearing my first name here at these parties, simply because I couldn't get away with the last name basis I had with everyone else in Kirkwal. "Over here!" Flora called, smiling as I approached the small group she was in. "No dances for you?"

"I need to check in with Mother about something," I explained. Of course, the 'something' was whether or not I could politely leave yet, but Flora didn't need to know that. "Have you seen her?"

"I think she's talking to Lady Dulci over by the fountain." Oh. Joy. "If you won't dance, perhaps you could share a drink with me?"

No way to refuse that. "Sure."

"Splendid!" She quickly summoned one of her servants and got me a glass of champagne. Which I now had to pretend to drink, even though I avoided alcohol. Yay. "Cheers?"

"Cheers." We clinked glasses together and all laughed politely.

"It is such a shame about that scar on your face, Lady Hawke," a lady in the group mockingly sighed at me. I didn't know her name at all, but I knew she didn't like me. I wasn't feminine enough for her, and she thought I was a bad influence of her own daughter, who apparently begged for the crazy stories Varric spread about me. "How did you get it again?"

"I was protecting a child from a crazed pedophile with a sword," I answered, keeping my tone even. I'd noticed one thing about these parties. They were priming me for passive-aggressiveness, or flat out aggression, than diplomacy or sarcasm. "Considering all the things he planned to do to her, I will gladly accept this scar as proof that I saved her from a fate worse than death."

"Here's to that!" Flora cheered, raising her goblet slightly. Flora, surprisingly, thought it was nifty I could fight. "It's good to be able to defend oneself too. You simply must teach me a few tricks."

"Of course. Aveline, the Guard Captain, also runs a few self-defense classes for anyone who wants it. It gives good training for the guard, and it helps victims buy time for help to arrive before something truly horrible happens." I turned my smile to the woman who'd tried to mock me in the first place. "Your daughter has expressed interest in learning. Since she's a pretty thing, you might want to consider it."

"Why? Because one of your lowtown thugs might do something untoward?" she scoffed in reply. "My daughter won't go anywhere near that-"

"Actually, considering the looks I've seen, I'd be more worried about the 'good blood'," I informed her lightly as I felt my annoyance creep through. "Would you like to see the guard report that came in about the noble here who raped three girls all under the age of consent?" Well, she sure did color at that. "My goodness, are you ill? You've suddenly become so flush!"

"Darling, you should be more polite at pointing things out." And there was Mother at my shoulder. She smiled at me. "It'll offend sensibilities," she reminded me.

"I'm sorry, Mother," I told her.

"You can apologize for pointing out her ill health later, more properly." She leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Also, you're getting better, but you need to talk around things like rape. It's not polite conversation." Yeah, I knew that. I'd just gotten angry. That was inexcusable, of course, though. "But it is good to mention." Oh, yay. Nice to know that.

"Did you enjoy your conversation with Dulci, Lady Leandra?" Flora asked, taking all attention off the woman I'd ashamed (oops). "You talked with her a long while."

"Oh, yes, we were talking about our daughters." Mother got a strangely smug look on her face. "It was a delight to talk about all of Althea's accomplishments." Huh?

"I bet she enjoyed that." I was so missing something. "So-"

"Serah Hawke!" I looked up as a messenger quickly made his way through the others, almost knocking a few of them over. "Apologies, mistress," he panted, tugging at his collar slightly to try and relieve his flushed and sweaty demeanor. I quickly snatched some water from nearby and gave it to him. "Oh, bless you, my lady." He gulped it in one shot. "The Viscount requests your presence immediately, Lady Hawke." Huh? "It's incredibly urgent." He glanced around and leaned in a bit. "It deals with the Qunari."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," I reassured him, nodding to tell him I'd heard the quieter message too. Though I wondered what earth-shattering matter required my attention this time. "I'll need to change."

"Of course, serah. And thank you."

I quickly found Johane in the surrounding crowd and curtseyed to her. "My apologies, ma'am, but duty calls," I told her, hiding my relief at being able to get out of the party.

"A strange duty," she replied dryly, with a heavy frown. "Why would the Viscount need your assistance?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss the nature of the tasks, as he uses my skills to protect the city." I glanced up with a properly polite smile. "I am pleased that my swordsmanship can be used to keep our city safe, when the guards are unable to mobilize." She sneered and looked away. "I apologize again. Flora? Perhaps luncheon tomorrow to make up for my early exit?"

"Certainly," Flora answered for her mother, smiling. She and her mother often disagreed on things, so she took a great deal of delight in seeing her mother at a loss. "Until then."

"Until then." I turned to Mother and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry?"

"Just try to be home before day's end," Mother sighed. "You know how I worry."

"Yes, ma'am." And now I had to deal with fighting to get out of a party. It was almost worth it.

So, when I arrived, dressed in my light armor and sword, I was quickly ushered up to the office by one glowering Seneschal Bran. Of course, the glare he had was nothing compared to the one Aveline was leveling at some spot on the wall near the Seneschal's office. I almost stopped to joke, to cheer her up, but Seneschal Bran was having none of that, continuing to drag me right up into the Viscount's study. The look on the Viscount's face was one of resignation and complete and total exhaustion. He barely even looked up from his desk as he greeted me, "Ah, hello, Serah Hawke."

"What's troubling you, your grace?" I asked politely, approaching the worn, paper-covered desk. Seneschal Bran closed the door behind him as he left. "Your messenger sounded urgent."

"That is because it is." He sighed heavily as he pushed himself up. Some papers toppled to the floor, but he didn't seem to notice. "Things have… escalated again with the Qunari, despite your efforts. A… terrible shame." Well, that was putting it mildly.

"What happened?"

"A… well, a qunari delegate and entourage paid me a visit." Huh? "It was civil. Tentative. Hopeful, even." Okay? "They left my chambers with precision, but they were not reported by the outer guard." And suddenly Aveline's anger was explained. "They are missing almost literally from my doorstep."

"How long have they been missing?"

"Almost a full day." …What. "Is something wrong?"

"Why did you not send for me immediately?"

"It was recommended to keep it quiet, and see if it was simply the Qunari pulling one of their tricks."

If I had to deal with dead people again because someone didn't think the Qunari could be in actual danger… "Qunari are blunt and honest. At least, their warriors are. The only 'trick' would be unveiling a new weapon."

"I see." He sighed heavily. "Well, you can imagine the Arishok's reaction. I've been trying to turn a stampede for some time now, and now someone is pushing very hard to make everything worthless." He looked at me pleadingly. "Please, assist me in finding them? I know not who would benefit from the fight, but I know it'll cost us all if we don't stop it."

Hawke do this. Hawke do that. Why did I never say 'no'? Mother would be so much happier if I did. Well, nothing for it. He was, after all, absolutely right on the costs. "I'll go immediately."

"Speak to Bran for more information, if you'd like. He was the last non-guard to see them."

"Understood." I bowed to him formally and let myself out.

I nearly crashed right into Aveline. "You know, yes?" she asked me softly. I nodded in reply. "Thank the Maker. This is not a good situation. There's a traitor in my guard, and the guardsmen I would trust to root the bastard out are spread thin."

"Well, I'm on the case," I reassured her. It was worth her relieved smile. "Is Seneschal Bran out here?"

"Yes, serah, I am," the man himself answered. He looked like he'd just bitted into something sour. "The Viscount would appreciate discretion."

I had the feeling he'd appreciate me not being involved at all. "I understand. Honestly, though, what I'm finding difficult to fathom is how quiet this all seems to be. It's the Qunari. They are warriors. There should've been a fight. How did they get taken out so easily?"

"Regrettably, they were not at their… best, shall we say?" He had the sense to at least act guilty. "I had insisted they bind their weapons shut. It seemed reasonable, and they agreed to it quite readily."

Because Qunari totally couldn't just punch things. Whoever got them must've… probably bound them. Maybe had some armor to help dull the punches? "And have you informed the Arishok?"

"I've no intention of signing a message boy's death warrant today, so no." He glanced down to some of the people racing about on the floor below. I noted a lot of them were children running errands. "He'll find out soon, of course. He always does. And the illusion of peace we have will likely dissolve when that happens." Maker damn it all.

"Tell me what you make of the situation then," I requested. "We're all intelligent people here, after all. There was something with the guards."

"Of course," Seneschal Bran agreed. He nodded apologetically at Aveline, who glowered at the floor. "I am certain, of course, that our Captain here is not involved, but it seems one of her guardsmen does not have her integrity. It is literally impossible for this to have escaped notice. Thus, one has to be involved. Simple deduction. Captain, have you been able to go through reports?"

"All but the newest recruits," Aveline answered immediately. "There were far less than expected."

"Indeed. My own records indicated that around the time the delegates were here, a number failed to report." Okay, I might not get along with him personally, but I was very impressed by his ability to find useful information. "Though, where you'd find someone so low they'd sell their honor so easily, I haven't a clue."

"Hanged Man," I answered immediately. And here I thought I'd have to wander the city aimlessly again.

"Got to be," Aveline agreed softly behind me. "There's no other place."

"Well, then, I suppose you have your next destination," Seneschal Bran noted. He sounded as enthused as I did about a new dress. "I wish you luck, serah. Do your best to keep this descreet."

As Aveline and I left him and walked down the staircase, Aveline sighed heavily. "What a mess," she murmured. "So, to the Hanged Man, Hawke?"

I almost agreed, but then I realized something. There was someone who had to know about this, and they needed to know about it immediately. "I'll meet you there. I have something I need to do first."

She knew what that 'something' was without my saying a word. fir"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Hawke."

Yeah, neither was I. "If we're honest, he might not attack us yet."

"…All right. But if you aren't back by nightfall…"

"I know."

"Good."

They let me in immediately. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad one, but it did give me less time to wonder where my sanity went as I was funneled to the Arishok. He was still up on his platform, grumbling to himself as he glowered at the infrastructure around him. Oh, joy, he's already pissed off, and here I was adding more fuel to the fire. "Speak," he ordered softy when he noticed me. "Why are you here?"

I was so going to regret this. "It seems the delegation you sent has gone missing," I informed him. He glared and made to rise, but I continued quickly to cut him off. "I'm looking into it."

He fell back into his seat, silently contemplating something before replying. "You are the one looking into it?"

"Yes."

"Not that fool of a Viscount. You are?"

Hey! "He must not be so foolish if you sent a delegation."

"A pointless endeavor, in the end, to make something of this… squalor." He glanced at the warriors around him. "If anyone else had delivered this message to me, you'd have found them gasping their last breath." Hahaha… oh Maker. "But you… you are different. Skilled. Capable." I was so thrilled to hear his praise. "I will wait. But know this, Hawke. We have heard the cries, and they will not be taken lightly."

Only so much a dragon could take before it snapped. "I will endeavor to find them as quickly as possible."

"Good." I couldn't help but notice how calculating the Arishok looked, and I couldn't say that didn't make me feel uneasy. Panahedan."

"Until we meet again." I left quickly, and jumped the steps that led from the Docks to Lowtown three at a time just to move faster. In Lowtown, I got the very welcome sight of Aveline tossing someone out of the Hanged Man, with all the fury of a well-trained warrior behind the action.

"The penalty for abandoning your post is ten days on the wall," Aveline growled as the boy landed flat on his back. "I will come up with a secondary punishment for being bought and made into a drunken mabari bitch." Ouch, Aveline. "Understood." The boy nodded quickly. "Then go."

"So, you find out anything useful?" I asked her, hiding a smile as he scurried off. "Before you ask, yes, I'm not a spirit. The Arishok didn't kill me and-"

"Grand. Cleric." Okay, Aveline was ma… wait, what? "Someone with the Grand Clerics seal authorized it," she told me bitterly. "And he chose to ignore his duty to the city."

"…Joy."

"So, what trouble are we getting into now?" Startled, I whirled and saw Anders and Varric stepping out of the tavern. "Before you ask, we were trading stories when we heard Aveline," Anders explained, cutting off my attempt at a question. "She was very, very loud. So, what is it?"

"We're going to the Chantry to accuse the Grand Cleric," I answered. "You still in?"

"Oh, this is going to be a story," Varric chuckled as Anders blinked owlishly at me. "And I've a feeling we might need bullshit, so I better tag along to help. I don't want my favorite heroes getting locked up.

"Softie."

"Shush. I don't want it to spread around. Let's just get going."

"And here we are, with a dwarf, the Captain of the Guard, a noble, and an apostate walking in to accuse of the Grand Cleric of zealotry," Anders sighed. "I thought you were joking."

"You can stay behind," I suggested as I continued stomping through the main hall. I was livid, and most were smart enough to stay out of my way.

"And risk you getting another scar? No thanks." He sighed again. "Still, that boy was drunk. We're taking his word."

"Would you lie when facing down Aveline?"

"Point. No offense, Aveline."

"None taken," Aveline replied calmly. "It's nice to know I can terrify you into submission if you get unruly again."

"R-right…" Anders carefully moved so that I was between her and him. "So, are you going to just march up to her?" he asked.

"Of course not," I retorted. "I'm going to ask… ah, there we go." I tapped a nearby sister on the shoulder. "Sorry to bother you, but please fetch the Grand Cleric for me. It's urgent." The sister nodded and quickly disappeared up the stairs.

"Don't look now, Hawke," Varric muttered darkly as soon as the sister had passed out of sight. "But we've company."

"Hmm?" I turned and saw another Sister approaching me. A blonde with short hair and a demeanor that reminded me of a snake. Strangely, she seemed familiar, but I could remember why. "Hello?"

"Greetings, Serah Hawke," she greeted me. She sounded haughty, and overly familiar. "It's been a bit."

"I know you?" And all bits of civility fell from her face. "Wait, when did we meet?"

"I… enlisted your help previously."

"I'm afraid that won't help matters. I help a lot of people."

"Ketojan?" …Oh. Oh, my. Andraste be my witness, why did she have to be here again? "You remember a qunari, but not me?"

"I guess you didn't make an impression." She glowered, but I shrugged. I was in no mood to be polite right now, sad as it was. She was responsible for what happened to Ketojan, in the end, and I still wasn't happy about that memory. "Now, do you have a reason for reminding me? Or even appearing in front of me? I asked for the Grand Cleric, not a Sister."

"Mother, actually." What. "It seems we have both moved up in the world."

"…She was promoted." Aveline's voice was scarily soft as we slowly processed that bit of information. "I told the Grand Cleric what had happened and she was promoted."

Andraste, give me patience. "You haven't answered my question," I reminded Petrice lightly. "I asked for the Grand Cleric, not you."

"Yet she cannot grant an audience to just anyone." I'd walked right up to her office in previous years, so this was bullshit. "So, what is it that you want?"

"I have an order signed with her seal for an action I know she wouldn't authorize." Grand Cleric Elthina was kind, and pacifistic. "The 'righteous' task of kidnapping a delegation, and possibly triggering the qunari to finally stop playing nice and slaughter us all." Petrice's eyes narrowed. "Oh? Did you know? What a surprise. But does Her Grace?"

"The grand cleric trusts her stewards to enact the wishes of the Maker," she tried to wave off.

But I wasn't having any of that. "Sounds like someone's been naughty," I mocked. "Well, this will shock her grace."

She glared at me. "You stubborn…"

"And proud of it, considering I'm trying to prevent a damned war that'll kill hundreds of innocents," I growled right back, leaning forward and getting into her face. "War isn't glorious, and there's not one person who will thank you for starting one. I'm sure any veteran can give you the horror stories, if you bothered to get off your self-made pedestal and actually talked instead of preaching your filth." She opened her mouth, but I cut her off. "Either help me or get out of my way, Petrice. I'm not playing here."

"Why do you always take their side?"

"Because your side kills people who deserve better, you selfish, haughty bitch." I snarled, trying to think of every single thing that could be intimidating. "Now, choose."

She was silent for a long while, just staring at me. Gauging whether I truly meant my threats. She must've decided I was, because she replied, "All right, serah. If you won't abandon this, I will offer you some help."

"Wow, you are capable of reason." I rocked back on my heels. "So?"

"There is a templar who is a radical who has grown unreliable. Perhaps he is the one who seek?"

"Who?"

"Ser Varnell. You might remember him."

Only one reason she'd say that. "Your templar dog? Naughty, naughty. You should keep a better eye on your pets."

"Assume what you wish, but I will give you his last known location as a… reconciliation." She took a small piece of paper and a pen from a hidden pocket and scribbled something here. "Come see the unrest the Qunari have inspired."

"Lots of things can inspire, but it's only acted on when prompted by an outside force," I hissed as I took the paper from her. "Don't even play, Petrice." She glared in reply and attempted to sweep past me, but I refused to be intimidated.

"That's a set up." Varric's voiced startled me and I twisted to see that yes, I did have people with me. They'd let me just do all the talking. Again. Why? "And that was rather aggressive towards the end, Hawke," Varric noted as he absently fiddled with Bianca. "Bad memories?"

"Yes." Maker, I could still see Ketojan if I closed my eyes. I could still smell the burning flesh and taste the charred ash. "Bad memories and just… getting a bit annoyed, Varric. I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's fine. You shouldn't be a pushover."

"Except for the nobles. Did I mention I spent the morning at a garden party?"

"You need ice for the headache?"

"Maybe?" And suddenly there was a frozen cloth being pressed to my head. "…Anders?"

"What? I'm good at ice magic," he dismissed. "If you give me a second, I might have something to help ease any potential headaches."

"I'll take an order of that," Aveline sighed heavily. "Maker, this is a problem."

"I'll mix up a whole batch just for you."

"Thank you."

"Well, well. I was wondering who would send for me." I looked up and saw the Grand Cleric Elthina stepping down the staircase. "Welcome, child," she greeted me. "What was this urgent business you mentioned?"

Oh, and I probably looked strange holding a cloth to my head. Oh well. "Your seal has been used," I informed her. "And not in a good way."

"Hmm, I'd been suspecting something." What. "Fear not, child. I will move when the time is right." 'When the time was 'right'?' But when was the right time? Why wasn't it now, when you had people being kidnapped?

Was I really the only one who saw just how bad of an idea all of this was?

"Does every warehouse in Kirkwall look the same?" I complained as we dropped into the supposed safehouse. "Seriously?"

"The builders were looking for efficiency, not creativity," Varric answered with a sigh. "Oh well. Makes it easier to tell."

"I'm positively thrilled to hear that."

"It's such a nice place for a rally," Anders mocked as we wandered deeper in. "Good choice, Varnell."

"Even better is the fact that the meeting place is so close to the door," Aveline noted grimly. She already had her sword and shield ready for battle. "If you all would shut up, we could hear them."

"We want to listen? It's all about how you shouldn't fear them because they die like any other."

"Sound familiar?"

"I'm not that bad. …Wait, please tell me I'm not."

"Sometimes…"

"Hit me if I get that bad."

"With pleasure."

"They could've stood to tidy this place up," Varric complained as we hit a patch of dust and walked past dried of piles of rate feces. "The smell alone might've killed our missing delegates." Was trying to ignore the stench, Varric. "And here we are. Do we confront?"

"No, we're going to be smart and not make a scene and get bunches of things lobbed at us," I sighed, peering around the corner that blocked us from the small crowd. I almost lunged out anyway when I saw they were gathered around Varnell and three Qunari strapped to boards. Disgusting.

"Like any beast, remove the fangs and it is lost." And of course the crazy templar had a wheezy, annoying voice. Of course. "They are weak before the faithful of the Maker," Varrell continued, sauntering up to one of the bound Qunari. "The only certainty in their precious Qun is death before the righteous." He punctuated the last word by stabbing one of the Qunari.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Anders growled as we all processed what just happened. "Look at those wounds. They've been torturing them. Nasty people, zealots. And he's doing it like he's just breathing."

"Be prepared for another growl or groan," Varric noted grimly. "Our 'helpful mother' is showing herself." What.

"Ser Varnell!" Petrice called then, confirming Varric's words as she stomped into the gathering. We all hid our groans as she made a big production of it. Damn it.

"Take a knee, faithful," Varnell quickly urged when he saw her. His followers quickly obeyed. "The Chantry blesses us."

"You claim a blessing when you've sued the authority of the grand cleric so openly?" I was going to gag at how bad her acting was. "You have brought wrath down upon you. Do you remember Serah Hawke?" And now she was calling me out directly. It's like she wanted me dead! Oh wait, she did. What a surprise.

Well, since our cover was blown anyway… "Since you've put up a show of torture, I have to ask you to vacate the stage," I declared to the group, stepping out from the shadows. "Andraste preached mercy, not wanton violence. I dare not think of how ashamed she is at the Maker's side."

"As you can see, the Qunari have friends." The group glared at me, but Petrice kept talking. "How will you answer their allegations?"

Varnell stared at me for a long, long moment before casually walking back to the group and pulled out his dagger again. It still had blood smeared on it. "I suppose, like this," he responded casually. He looked me right in the eye as he drew the knife over one of the Qunari's throats. No hesitancy, and still, putting on a show.

And that made me snap. Subtly, very subtly, I willed for a tempest to swirl above the group and rain down on them. I smiled politely as they all screamed in terror and collapsed. "It seems the Maker does not approve of you all," I noted calmly. My arms burned and throbbed from holding back so much power, but I wasn't going to kill them unless they forced me to. "Perhaps you should think of a new line of work?"

"Kill them!" Varnell snarled, palming his sword and shield. "Kill them, faithful, in the name of the Maker!"

"You're not making a good case for worshiping him." I drew my own blade. Petrice quickly raced away, ducking behind the corner before I could ask where she was going. Maker, I hoped I never saw her again. Twice was far too many times. "Well, let's see how you fare against those who weapons aren't bound! Make this quick, everyone!"

"Shouldn't be hard," Anders agreed. I hoped he remembered to not use magic in front of someone we couldn't deal with. "Templars are cowards, and I doubt their followers are any better." And, unfortunately, it looked like all of them were going to do their best to fight, despite my attempt to cow them. "Are none of them going to stand down?"

"Fervor makes people stupid," Varric growled. "Hawke, I claim Anders."

"You can go on a date later, Varric," Aveline growled. "We're busy."

"Did you just make a joke? Praise be the ancestors!"

"Praise be your ass if they get the jump on you. Move." The saddest part of how serious we were being? We didn't have to be. Only Varnell had any sort of experience actually fighting. His followers just screamed and flailed wildly to try and hit us. But, even when the tactic worked, they were only shallow cuts that annoyed more than hurt for now.

"Don't you just love making the world a better place, Hawke?" Aveline asked grimly as we found ourselves back-to-back, surrounded by the raving lunatics. Neither of us were worried, even though exhaustion was setting in.

"One enemy at a time, yeah," I agreed, holding my sword out. "Bitch Priest watching?"

"No clue. I didn't see where she ran."

"Then I suppose we do this the long way."

"I'll wrench open a path for you. Take advantage of it to get to Varnell and stop this charade."

"Why me?"

"Too many people for Varric to get a good shot, not sure if Anders can get a kill without magic, and you're faster than me."

"Fair enough. Suggestions?"

"He's not wearing a helmet."

"All right."

"Then get moving." She suddenly twisted and slammed her shield into three of the people trying to attack us, sending them flying into the wall. I winced at how their heads cracked right open. "Now."

"Yeah." I raced through the opening, going straight for Varnell. He looked startled by me. As for myself, all I could feel was disgust. He had kidnapped people, tortured him, and then hung in the back to watch his 'followers' die.

"You'll ruin your chances for eternity," he growled as he tried to recover and face me. I dodged the first strike, but the second one caught me on the arm. "The Qunari are a threat!"

"Only because you make them one," I snapped, ducking under his shield and striking his knee. "Only because you make them a better alternative to you."

"The Maker-!"

"Has a judgment waiting for you!" I snaked my sword around his, slicing into his eyes as his own gouged my cheek. He screamed and stumbled back, dropping his weapons as he groped at his eyes. But it would do no good. He had no eyes. Blind physically as he was mentally. "And I bet it's right to the Void, you stupid bastard!"

"No, this is a test. This is but a-!" I spun to build up speed and cleaning sliced his head off. It bounced and rolled in the dust as the rest of his body.

I ignored it as I just sheathed my sword and walked up to the still hanging Qunari corpses. I'd clean it later, if I remembered. But, since the sounds of fighting were dying behind me, I just left the others to finish the job. Just carefully hunting for the ropes that kept the Qunari high up, off the ground. Absolutely helpless. I grimaced as I examined the wounds. Anders had been right. Each one had been designed for the maximum pain, for the least chance of death. Torture at its 'finest'. "Send a message to the Viscount, please," I requested one of the others as things fell silent at last. I wasn't sure who was near enough. I couldn't look away, for some reason. "And someone please help me with the bodies."

Anders and Aveline helped me, while Varric immediately went back to the door to grab a runner. The bodies were huge, and heavy. But what really startled me was that the one I took down, the only one I hadn't seen Varnell attack, was still warm. I scrambled to get him down, trying to think quickly. If I could heal him… if I could get Anders to heal him… then maybe, maybe this would- "Hawke." The Qunari gripped my hand tightly, scattering my concentration for a brief moment as I tried to process that he was talking. "Prepare, Hawke. We have… heard the threats… and don't take kindly."

"Look, you can tell me later after I've… wait, why are you even telling me?" Wait, no, I needed to heal him. If only he could let go of my hand. I had to have my hands to use magic, and the death grip was crushing my bones. There wasn't a way to conjure up the magic!

"You are a worthy person." What? "Arishok… will want… you to fight… well…" The grip suddenly loosened and I was stuck staring at a slowly cooling corpse, having no idea how to respond. What exactly had he meant by that? And why was it so important that he'd used his last breath to tell me? And, Maker damn it all, why was I always just a few seconds too late nowadays?

I could've saved him. So, why did everything conspire to make sure I didn't?

When the Viscount arrived with a small group of guards, he looked even more haggard than he had this morning. I honestly couldn't blame him for it. "Madness," he muttered as he stared at the bodies, shaking his head. "Absolute madness."

"Now there's a word for it," I grumbled. I was tired, cold, and tired of the smell of blood that permeated the already sour smelling air.

"Chantry involvement." He turned to face me as his guards spread out. A couple went to Aveline to talk. I'd convinced Varric and Anders to leave already. Varric, to find me more information. Anders, to check and make sure these zealous faithful hadn't hurt some people without us knowing. "Even if it's a fringe element, this is… it could not be a worse scenario." Sure it could. It could be the main ones with actual political power. "Did… did you kill…?"

"I gave them a chance to run, but they refused. So, all those who were here are dead, unfortunately." I debated about telling him about Petrice, but decided against it. Considering things, I wasn't sure if accusations would do anything without hard proof. If you couldn't show the nobles the blood on a criminal's hand, they believed exactly what they wanted, no matter how far-fetched.

"I… I will make inquiries. Gently." While I had a competent dwarf do the same. "For now, though, we have other problems."

"Such as?"

"I can't return these bodies to the Qunari like this. With all the… the signs of what those zealots did to them."

"Don't even try to hide it," I sighed. "Don't you dare. He'll know anyway. Be honest. Anything less will make things worse."

"I… yes, all right." He sighed heavily and absently rubbed at his temples. "I'm losing my sense of how to balance this nightmare with everything that's gone wrong. Thank you."

"It's no trouble."

"No, it was. I appreciate your efforts. Bad as this is, it would have been so much worse without your aid." He faced me with a serious look. "Kirkwall owes you. I owe you."

"You owe me nothing," I mumbled awkwardly. How was I supposed to reply to this? "Really…"

"Your modesty is heartwarming… and baffling." He turned away from me then. "Guards, please arrange the bodies away from their tormentors. See if there's any identification for them. We will treat the dead well, regardless of their actions."

I stepped to the side as the guards went to work separating out the bodies, doing their best to keep all the pieces together. I thought about offering to help, but my head spun as I watched. "Maker, I hate fighting."

"Don't we all?" I hadn't realized I'd said anything until Aveline replied. She leaned against the wall next to me, arms crossed as we watched them. "They're trained to deal with stuff like this," she explained. "That's why the Viscount brought them."

"I see…" I murmured. "Still, I'm getting a bit tired of being dragged out to do things like this." Tired? No, that wasn't… really the right word, was it? But I couldn't pick out what word was.

"Then get a job." What? "No, seriously, get a job. You know I'm always looking."

"I'd make a poor guard, Aveline," I reminded her.

"True." She looked at the bodies, and then back at me. "But you've had an effect, Hawke. A big one, and it just keeps getting bigger as more and more people find you because you refuse to fly." Huh? "I'm just worried you're going to be forced into a corner and someone is going to make a choice for you."

"And here's why you need me around." Time to tease. I needed to tease someone. "You're too sour and dour."

"What did I do to become the butt of a joke?"

"Donnic."

She flushed, smiled, and looked at the ground. "…Okay. You have me there."

"How are things going?"

"Clumsily, yet well, I think. I'll tell you more later. When we don't have the smell of entrails clogging up the air."

"Good point."

"Serah?" I turned my attention back to the Viscount. "Serah, how should I notify the Arishok?" he whispered. He didn't look at me at all as he asked. Just stared at the puddles of blood that slowly pooled under the bodies. The scent of death would overwhelm the area in a few days, even if the the corpses were carted out. "How?"

"I'll tell him directly," I volunteered. "I don't think he'll hurt me." Yet, anyway.

"Thank you." And there was nothing more to be said.

Author's Notes: Ah, plot stuff. Qunari stuff. Yay. The Harimanns are quest important characters if you purchased Seb's DLC. Even though I'm not doing it, I wanted to bring in the characters anyway. Lord Harimann, who dies between Act 1 and Act 2, is part of a quest for Meeran, if you chose to accept it. Aveline and Hawke's conversation at the end there is based off her questioning beliefs quest for act 2.

I never noticed until writing, but most of Act 2's main quests involve Hawke having to try and clean up after someone has messed up, and, therefore, arrives too late to save people. …In fact, I think all of them are like that. What nice foreshadowing to the fact that when you arrive late, you can often only buffer the damage.

This is around the point where we're getting a bit of a personality shift from Hawke, as she starts falling into roles she doesn't necessarily want to be in, and yet doesn't seem to mind either. Next chapter will see more of something like this. Sorry if the change seemed sudden.

Next Chapter – Mirror Image. Fun times ahead.