Author's note: Thanks, as always, to clafount for all of her help beta-reading!


As soon as Bethany stepped out of her front door, she knew that something odd was going on in Hightown. A crowd of nobles was backed up nearly to the low gate outside of her estate, and for just a moment, she worried that they'd gathered to address the Champion of Kirkwall. After a few moments, however, Bethany was thoroughly disabused of that notion when she heard the echoing words of First Enchanter Orsino, the greying elf who nominally led the Kirkwall Circle of Magi. Of course he could do nothing without Knight-Commander Meredith's permission, and over the last few years, the powerful woman's permissiveness seemed to have all but evaporated.

"...I know you fear us," Orsino cajoled his audience, from the foot of the steps that would lead to the Viscount's Keep. "Knight-Commander Meredith uses that fear to take control of your city," he went on, his voice carrying much farther than Bethany would have given him credit for . "Over the last two years, she's opposed every effort to replace Viscount Dumar, and you have seen firsthand the chaos of her reign. Templars guarding the Viscount's Keep and other offices, far away from the Gallows." As Bethany drew closer, she could see the man's forehead wrinkling and his arms moving with the passion of his words. "Will you allow it to go on forever?"

A murmuring picked up through the crowd, most of whom hadn't yet noticed the Champion's presence among them. It was easy enough to blend in, out of her armour with her long hair flowing freely over her shoulders, and Bethany didn't mind the relative anonymity. After a few seconds, though, silence fell over the nobles like a wave from the sea, and Bethany's stomach tensed when she saw the crowd parting to reveal the knight-commander herself, leading a small squad of winged-helmed templars. "Return to your homes," Meredith barked at all and sundry. "This farce is over." She spoke as though the gentry and nobility of Kirkwall could not hope to oppose her, and for a heartbeat, she did not seem wrong.

Bethany herself turned on her heel, intending to slink off to the Hanged Man; she'd hoped to sneak into Varric's room without being noticed, for a game of cards and another round of tall tales that he so loved to serve up, especially when they featured the Champion of Kirkwall. But before she'd completely about-faced, Orsino called out, seemingly to the Champion herself. "Wait!" She cursed to herself, silently, and paused. "...Perhaps there are some who might disagree with you, knight-commander," the first enchanter drawled, and then she cursed him under her breath.

With a sigh, Bethany turned back to face the man, which also brought Knight-Commander Meredith into her view. "Do not hide behind the Champion," Meredith scoffed, with hardly a glance to the woman she would so easily dismiss . "She has no role in this."

Another round of murmuring propagated from the nobles surrounding Bethany, and they parted for her as smoothly as they'd done for Meredith, a few moments before . "You should both calm down," she said, stepping closer to the centre of the throng's attention. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the protesting mage and his gaoler. "Before this gets violent." Her fingers closed around air, three inches from the dagger she'd concealed by her hip.

That was enough to draw Meredith's direct attention. "I should remain calm while this mage provokes an uprising?" She spat, taking a single step closer to her interlocutor. "I think not!"

Orsino did his best to head the knight-commander off before she got any closer to Bethany. "I think the Champion's views would be appreciated," he sneered, showing more courage in the face of Meredith than Bethany had seen since Athadra had nearly come to blows with the woman. "Or do you fear what she has to say?"

Meredith waved away the accusation. "I fear nothing," she declared, taking a measuring look at the Champion. "My only interest here is in keeping order and protecting the innocent."

In the last part, at least, Bethany could find grounds enough to agree with the knight-commander...even if she suspected they would starkly disagree upon how to go about protecting innocents, or indeed who counted as innocent at all. Even so, she didn't want to antagonise either the knight-commander or the first enchanter, and so she sought to sound out Orsino's intentions. "Why do this now, first enchanter?"

The elf looked at her as though she were accusing him of starting a rebellion, rather than giving him a chance to explain himself. "The people of this city need to know what's really happening in the Gallows, in their name," he declared. "Too many of you seem to have forgotten that the City of Chains keeps us locked away, right across the water."

Bethany felt the sting of his implied accusation, that she had forgotten about her fellow mages since becoming Champion. Whether Meredith understood this subtext or not, the knight-commander offered her own retort. "And then what?" She begged, sardonically. "They tear down the Gallows with pitchforks and torches? That would be better?"

"It certainly couldn't be worse ," Orsino spat, though the Champion spied a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Your constant refusal to listen to reason leaves me no choice but to appeal directly to the people you refuse to let govern themselves. At one time, that was just the mages, but now it seems you won't be satisfied until you've shackled all of Kirkwall to your will."

"My will is to serve the Maker in all things, mage," Meredith retorted. "And what I refuse to listen to are excuses. Perhaps you are ill-suited to your position if you cannot understand that."

The Champion saw the rising tension reflected in the gathered templars, who stood straighter and kept their hands closer to their weapons than she felt comfortable with, and so she sought to step in once more, even if she'd rather have turned heel and ran. "He has a point, knight-commander," Bethany supplied, as gently as she could. "You're hardly receptive to anyone that disagrees with you." She remembered all of the templars that Meredith had consigned to their deaths in the fool's errand of confining the Warden-Commander, though the Champion knew better than to mention those lost souls .

The knight-commander's lip curled in a snarl, her ice-eyes smoldering. "And I become less receptive each moment this nonsense continues."

Though she'd faced much harsher glares and more open threats, even recently, Bethany didn't let herself rise to the challenge the other woman offered. Instead she crossed her arms and looked to Orsino. "Rogue mages have been a threat to the city," she observed, and she did her best to ignore the look of indignant betrayal he spared her.

Meredith redirected her ire to the first enchanter as well. "Exactly," she exclaimed. "And you would have me do nothing in response?"

Orsino pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration evident, though he apparently knew better than to mutter to himself, lest the looming templars take it as a threat. "I would have you not paint us all with the same brush, knight-commander," he pleaded. "If you punish the innocent as harshly as the guilty, what message do you think you're sending to those you're claiming to protect?"

Something in Meredith's expression softened, just slightly. "You know as well as I that temptation preys on every mage, no matter how noble their intentions," the knight-commander said, almost wearily. "We must guard against corruption even in the most innocent of your kind, Orsino ."

The first enchanter breathed an incredulous laugh. "You hear this, yes?" He demanded of Bethany, his eyes glittering. "She would lock up you too, if she were able." It was as close as anyone had come to publicly acknowledging her magic ever since Meredith had threatened to address the matter, shortly before Bethany's duel with the Arishok.

"The Champion saved this city," the knight-commander retorted, cutting into Bethany's mild panic, though she noted that it wasn't precisely a denial. "Unlike some who threaten it with their misguided outrage." That scintilla of empathy seemed to have disappeared, by now, leaving ice and steel in the woman's tone .

Orsino's voice was much more heated. "You push us into desperate acts," he growled through his teeth, "and then use those acts as justification to press us even further!"

That sounded like something Anders would say within a minute's conversation, Bethany reflected. Especially these days. Without thinking it through, she said aloud, "The templars may only be making the problem worse."

Which was exactly the wrong thing to say if she wanted to stay beneath Meredith's notice. "I will not sacrifice the well-being of innocents for the sake of a few mages," the knight-commander declared haughtily. "I will not!"

Before Orsino could escalate the conflict even more, the Champion tried to re-orient the conversation to the man's stated grievances. "The first enchanter accused you of trying to take control of the city," she reminded Meredith, and those nobles still gawking.

Meredith snorted. "The city," she hissed. "I am trying to keep order, until there is a ruler capable of succeeding where Dumar failed!"

The change of subject seemed to ground Orsino's anger. "And if not?" He answered, hazarding a look out into the crowd. "Will the templars rule over Kirkwall forever?"

"We will not stand idle while the city burns around us," Meredith declared.

The first enchanter cackled, as if in victory. "The Templar Order exists to guard the Chantry and the Circle," he lectured, more for the benefit of his audience than his accuser. "I suggest you let the nobility rule the city."

Meredith shook her head. "I do not need you nor anyone else to tell me what my duty is, mage." She put enough venom into the last word to make an adder blush with envy.

And now, as had so often happened in her life, Bethany felt the weight of decision pressing down on her. If she supported Meredith, it was likely Orsino would be dragged away in chains, possibly stripped of his position...and maybe even his life. It would also mean that the Champion would not have to fear Meredith's wrath, at least for the present; yet that avenue might also lead to templars roaming the streets, enforcing canon and common laws with equal weight. And that was certainly no kind of city that Bethany would ever want to live in. "The first enchanter is right," she said, loudly enough for many of the nobles to hear. "You should not be ruling Kirkwall, knight-commander."

The knight-commander was unapologetic. "And yet I shall continue to do so, until this city is safe."

"You see," Orsino exclaimed. "She does not even deny it, and she refuses to see reason."

With the damage already done, Bethany saw little point in dancing around the deeper issue any longer. "Your methods have gotten more extreme over the last few years," she said, and she did not flinch back when met with the full force of the other woman's piercing gaze.

"And you could do better?" Meredith replied, crossing her wrists at the small of her back. "How well did you protect your own mother? Did she not die at a blood mage's hands?"

For one blessed instant, Bethany wanted to put her dagger through the knight-commander's eye, just as she'd seen Zevran do to Nuncio only too recently. Instead she took a breath, and tried to keep her voice from shaking with suppressed rage. "Leave my mother out of this," she warned.

Meredith's eyes softened again, but Bethany saw only blatant manipulation in the gesture, regardless of its intent. "Cold corpses speak louder than abstract freedoms, do they not?" She glanced from the Champion to the nobles around them. "As long as that's true, Kirkwall needs its templars more than it needs a new ruler."

"When will that end?" Orsino all but begged, his own voice breaking. "When will you stop seeing evil in every corner, Meredith?"

Her answer was a simple as it was ridiculous. "When it is no longer there, Orsino."

The Champion was still trying to forget the visions of another woman's eyes staring out of her mother's head that Meredith's remark had reminded her of, and so even if she'd been disposed to the knight-commander's point of view, she couldn't stomach much longer in her presenc e. "No matter what," Bethany cut in, "the first enchanter has a point."

The first enchanter appeared buttressed by the Champion's lukewarm support. "Face the truth, knight-commander," he insisted. "You are done."

"That is for me to decide," Meredith barked, and Bethany worried that the woman might call her templars to restrain the rebellious first enchanter. "No one else!"

Ready to wash her hands of this argument and its consequences, Bethany turned away, and she was almost grateful for the parting of the crowd...until she saw that she was not the sole reason for the nobles' hospitality. At the far end of the row, accompanied by another pair of templars, strolled Grand Cleric Elthina. As little as the Champion regarded the woman for the indecisiveness that had ended up with Bethany's ribs broken, she knew all too well that she could not snub Elthina. "My, my," the grand cleric sing-songed as she drew nearer. "Such a terrible commotion !"

Meredith stood up straighter, moving her arms to her sides. "This mage incites rebellion, Your Grace," she declared. "I am dealing with the matter."

Serenely, Elthina turned her gaze from Meredith to Bethany, and after a slight nod, to the first enchanter himself. "Ahh," she cooed. "Orsino...so frustrated. Do you think this course of action truly wise?"

Orsino appeared ready to re-argue his case, but after a moment, the elf deflated visibly. "I...no, Your Grace."

The grand cleric's smile promised peace. "Of course not," she agreed, and then she turned her attention to a couple of Meredith's templars. "Young men, would you show the first enchanter back to the Circle?" Both helmeted warriors bowed, and Elthina added, as an afterthought, "Gently, if you please."

The knight-commander made her displeasure known immediately. "Your Grace, this man should be clapped in irons! Made example of!"

Elthina raised her hand, which abruptly ended the other woman's protests. "That's enough, Meredith," she said, just a bit more sharply than before. "This...display...demeans us all. Surely you can see that?" Wearily, she added, "Go back to the Gallows and calm down." Then, as if to complete the so-called ruler's humiliation, she twisted the knife. "Like a good girl." Bethany wondered why the grand cleric couldn't have been nearly as direct when dealing with the Qunari and her own fanatical underlings, years before, but no small part of her took pleasure in witnessing how little power Meredith truly had. Rather than raise another objection, Meredith bowed, with evident discomfort. Then, as one, she and her templars accompanied Orsino away from the s quare.

The Champion's hopes for a similar exit were dashed when the grand cleric turned to address her. "You have my thanks for stepping in, Champion," Elthina allowed. "If you had not…"

It had been nearly two years since Bethany had spoken with Elthina, but the other woman seemed as open and amiable as ever, despite the deft show of power she'd just demonstrated. "You're the grand cleric," the Champion pointed out, with a small ray of hope. "Aren't you in charge of the templars and Circle?" Can't you put an end to this?

The grand cleric actually laughed at that, and it stung, good-natured as it was. "Ooh, my," Elthina deflected. "You have quite the estimation of my abilities, child." Then she rounded on the crowd, still milling about. "Gentle people of Kirkwall," the grand cleric announced. "Return to your homes, I implore you. This will not be solved today ." On her word, the men and women of Kirkwall's nobility began to disperse, which belied Elthina's supposed humility . "And now I must attend to the Gallows," the woman complained, as if to herself. "They will see reason," she breathed, which rekindled Bethany's hope, before Elthina added, "...if the Maker wills it. Thank you again, Champion."

Bethany could do nothing but bow, slightly. She did not rise until Elthina and her two guards had marched out of swearing distance, and then the Champion breathed an Antivan curse that she was certain would have made her mother slap her. With no further impediments, Bethany wandered to the city's Lowtown steps. It was still daylight, just past noon, but she took care to avoid the shadier pathways even so; it would not do to slaughter some non-magical innocents, after all, if someone attempted to lighten her purse or end her life.

The Hanged Man was half-full of sailors on shore leave when Bethany entered its smokey barroom, men and women unconcerned with the haughty issues that kept the nobles above them up nights. The longer that the Champion had to deal with the likes of Meredith and Orsino, the more appealing she found the prospect of letting the wind take her away...but she could not abandon her brother, or her beautiful little niece. Not while there was still some hope. Corff, the bartender, gave Bethany a quick nod and inclined his head to a corner of the room; when she looked, she saw Isabela sitting at a table, sharing a drink and a laugh with a rough-looking elf. With a sigh, she supposed that Varric and his stories would have to wait, and she made her way over to the pirate and her companion.

The elf chortled into a cup of ale. "...and then Casavir said 'Not unless you want a bucket of silverfish on your head,' and that got the old bastard to put down his rapier!"

Isabela gave him a full-throated laugh, her head tilting back to expose her long neck in a way that the pirate only did when she was certain it wouldn't get slit. That helped Bethany to ease her suspicions, but when Isabela caught sight of the Champion and those honey-coloured eyes sparkled, any reservations Bethany might have felt were forgotten. "Hawke," the pirate purred, shifting to put a boot up on the table. "Grab a chair; there's someone I want you to meet." Once Bethany had claimed the only seat available-the one that had her back to the room, rather than a wall, like the other two-Isabela gestured to her friend. "Hawke, this is Bright-eyes; he used to man the Crow's Nest back on the Call."

The elf's eyes certainly were a bright, brilliant blue, like gemstones caught in the hard lines of his face. "You can call me Brand," he deflected, after emptying his glass. "What can I call you?"

"Hawke," Bethany allowed, with a sharp glance to Isabela before she could loudly proclaim her the Champion of Kirkwall. "Who's Casavir?"

The question pulled a sigh from the Rivaini pirate. "He was my former first mate. I've kept my ear to the ground, but from what I hear, he didn't make it when the Call broke up." After a moment's hesitation, Isabela shrugged and knocked back her own clay cup. "Brand here's heard that we're in the market for a crew, and he's graciously agreed to help us find one," she informed the Champion. "He always was a good lad, that one."

Bethany nodded, a frown twitching over her lips. "So it's...really happening? So soon?"

"Sooner than later," the elf, Brand, butted in. "I already got about a half-dozen guys that I've worked with before who wouldn't mind going into business for the captain. It'd be best if we could set off before autumn, to put the boat and her men through their paces before the bad weather hits."

Nerves tensed in the Champion's stomach; it was already Cloudreach, and Summerday was at the end of the month. That left four months until Funalis, the official onset of autumn. "I doubt this town will last much longer than that, anyway," Bethany breathed, a streak of cynicism cutting through her uncertainty. "The mages and the templars might tear everything down before then."

Isabela shrugged. "We'll want to be gone before that happens," she assured the elf, and then she gave an exaggerated sniff. "I think I need a bath," the pirate announced, throwing Bethany a smirk. "Do you think I need a bath?"

The Champion blinked, and though she did not blush, she felt her cheeks tingle with a sudden smile. "I think I'll need more than a quick sniff to determine that," she shot back .

Brand coughed pointedly. "I...uhh...I'd best get back to scouting. Captain," he said, favouring Isabela with a nod. "Hawke." Bethany stood along with the elf, moving out of his way as he disappeared into the Hanged Man's patrons.

The pirate captain stretched marvellously and launched herself to her feet. "So, Hawke," she drawled, leaning in close enough that her breath tickled over Bethany's cheek, but not quite close enough to silence her with a kiss. "What's got your tack all in a knot for? Did you get asked to save another bunch of puppies from drowning in the harbour?"

"Worse," Bethany sighed, glancing over her shoulder at the people milling through the bar. "But…" She leaned in herself and sniffed, making a face. "You do need a bath-hey!" The pirate struck her shoulder playfully, staggering her balance. "I'll wash your back," the Champion offered. "If you'll listen while I do it."

Isabela sucked on her bottom lip, her tongue twirling the stud she wore just above her chin. "Deal," she conceded. "But you'd better keep the water nice and hot." With a wink, the pirate sauntered toward the stairs, and Bethany could only follow .