It was today.

The Viscount had put it together out in public, letting his gardens become the place where Javeen did not want to go. So many people gathered for the funeral; she could see it from her window. The flowers alone brought such colour to the Viscount's estate, like a sea of yellow, blues, and pinks. No white flowers were allowed to come near Leandra's pyre. Javeen would kill whoever brought those on spot, she swore it.

She shook her head. It wasn't even just mother's pyre. Her breathing stopped and she gasped at the very thought, clutching her chest. No one found mothers body. All that was left of her was that atrocity...that...that stitched together monster that Javeen had held as she passed. Her ashes were going to be mixed with other women, other victims.

It was too much to bear. Javeen gasped for breath, her body shuddering, rejecting. She couldn't do it. She couldn't see it. She couldn't accept it.

I can't breathe this air.

She ran. Took the back way to sneak around the manor, away from the streets where so many people gathered to pay their respects. Her companions were already there. Her sister was there. She hesitated before scaling the wall. She looked back towards the where the funeral was taking place, picturing Bethany there, all alone and waiting for her.

"I'm so sorry, Beth..." she whispered, and jumped down the wall.

She didn't stop until she reached the only place where she could breathe. She clutched mother's necklace in her hand, unable to let it go ever since she found it in the dirt. The guards at the Compound raised their brows at her state, but nodded regardless and let her pass.

The smell of that familiar spice filled her lungs, making her almost hyperventilate at the lack of air. It was a miracle that the incense had somewhat of a calming effect on her, and her breathing slowed to a more healthy pace. She kept moving forward.

At this time, the Arishok would have retired to his tent for the early evening. She hesitated at the entrance, realizing she just entered this place with no warning or invite. You couldn't just run to the Arishok and be allowed into his space like that, not when you weren't Qunari. Her hand shook just before touching the canvas, but then the Arishok opened it for her.

The two stood in silence for a few moments, until the Arishok said, "Enter."

They sat in their usual spots, across from one another. As usual, there was tea, though no second cup for her. It was fine. She was unexpected, and honestly, she couldn't bring herself to eat or drink anything anyway. They sat in silence, the Arishok watching her. Waiting for her to speak. But her throat closed up.

He broke the silence. "Why are you here, Hawke."

She took a deep breath. "Because I'm a coward."

The Arishok grunted, more neutral than anything. Agreement, non agreement. He took a sip of his tea. "I heard what happened. Your Viscount is the host, correct?"

Javeen nodded. Dumar was simply appeasing the outcry that came from mother's death; many nobles close to her demanded something be done when they failed to protect her, and so many other women.

And you know what?

They were right.

She failed her. The guard failed her. The investigation being dropped three years ago failed her. She and Aveline weren't speaking right now.

"I can't...I couldn't see her like that. Not after finding her."

He shook his head. "Your funerals do not make sense. Why concern yourself over the shell that is no longer her?"

Javeen let out a tired sigh, unable to argue or think or care. "I don't know."

The Arishok paused, setting down his tea and regarding her more fully. Hawke always had an explanation regarding human rituals, even if they were ludicrous. But...it was understandable that words failed her this time. "Do you have anything of your mother that represents who she was?"

Blankly, Javeen only looked into his eyes, hoping for something that made more sense to her. "What?"

"Her purpose. Something...that if you look upon it, you only think of her."

Her eyes lowered to her hand, still holding the necklace. Of course. That it was not around her neck still was wrong, this was mother. The golden amber of it was her colour, this warm, sweet thing that reminded her of honey and comfort and love. She presented it to him, hand shaking. "This."

He nodded. It didn't matter that it was different, whatever that tiny amulet represented was correct. "And what do you remember, looking at this amulet?"

"That..." Javeen shook her head and laughed. "All the times she almost sold it. When we were in harder times and needed money. But we never let her. We always found another way."

The Arishok chuckled. "To think of someone selling their identity...it is almost unthinkable and would result in death in the Qun. But she attempted it for the good of the whole. A complicated notion."

Javeen's smile was weak, but that she was smiling... It felt impossible. "I'm sure your scholars would have a field day unpacking it."

"And looking upon it, how do you feel?"

Javeen wiped at a tear. "Warm. And empty."

"It will for a long time. Such is the nature of grief."

Clutching the amulet to her, Javeen whispered, "Can I stay...for a little while?"

The Arishok regarded her more cooly. "Do what you come here for, basalit-an."

Since he had his own life, Kaaras was not immediately available for a surprise lesson. Of course. She expected nothing less, and decided that it was better to wait until he was finished, rather than giving up and heading back to...to everything else. She went back to the place where she spent a lot of her time waiting, watching, and studying. The high sentry station only used at the latest hours of night.

It was also the place she and mother had their picnic together.

God. Even as she tried to run from it, mother was everywhere. People accused her of sticking her nose into every part of Kirkwall, but the same could be said of mother. Even in Javeen's safest places, she was there. There was no where to run.

She leaned back against the wood of the post, closing her eyes. It only took a few moments for her to drift off into sleep, a thing avoided in the last week. She was afraid of the dreams.

Even as she began to fall, she begged someone, anyone, that she would not dream. A wish that was not granted.

In her dream, she opened her eyes. She was sitting at a long table, food in fancy dinner plates and all types of cutlery placed beside them. The food was all rotten and infested with flies. Glancing around, she recognized this place as the basement where mother died. There were other people at the table too; father sat two seats down-that incense smoke coming from his ears. Mother was at the end, but she was just a floating head and did nothing but smile. A few seats in front of mother sat Carver...but his body had twisted brutally a few times so he was leaning on the table, facing away from Javeen.

Beside her stood Quentin. He was holding a pair of tweezers, of which he was cleaning with a white cloth. "Okay Hawke," he said, "I'm going to take your eyes now."

Javeen frowned. "Why? There's nothing good about them."

"I need them."

"But-"

"I need them. They're not going to be able to function someday anyway. Hold still."

Javeen sighed. "Okay."

Quentin took her chin in one hand, the tweezers shoved neatly into her left eye first. There was no pain, but an odd sensation of metal rummaging around behind her eye. She felt her fingers twitch against the leather of the chair she was sitting in. Then, with a tug, Quentin pulled her left eye right out of her socket, examining it before putting it into a jar filled with a clear liquid. It stared back at Javeen, the unnatural blue glowing.

"Almost done," he said, and his voice was so gentle.

He took out her right eye just the same, Javeen heard the wet plunk! of her second eye hitting the liquid in the jar. Completely blind, she listened to Quentin's footsteps as he moved away from the table. And then-

Someone was shaking her. "Hawke-" a voice said. "Hey, wake up."

She took a long, shuddering breath as she opened her eyes, seeing a fuzzy Camlen in front of her. She saw him. Her eyes were still there. She quickly rubbed them, letting them focus better.

It was dark outside. She had been out for a few hours, at least. Clenching her stomach to keep the sick feeling in her down, she kept a neutral face to Camlen. "Is Kaaras available now?"

"Y-yeah, he's-" Camlen frowned at her. "You sure you shouldn't be...at home right now?"

"I have no idea what I should be doing right now," Javeen said, quickly getting to her feet. Camlen stared at her for a moment, then moved out of the way so she could make her way down.

Kaaras was relaxing in his tent when she found him, in the home they shared for all that time. It was always nice to come back to this tent, to its comfortable couch to its plain atmosphere. Un-chaotic and comfortable. But unlike all the other times she came back here, there was no tea for her waiting on the round table in the middle. He was silent as she sat in her spot, not unlike the spot designated for her in the Arishok's tent, and waited for him to acknowledge her appearance. There was a letter in front of him.

Before she could ask him what it was, Kaaras spoke. "There will be no lesson today, Hawke."

"But-"

"Not today. This is not the time for it."

Javeen swallowed to keep her throat from closing. "Yeah. You're right."

He smiled gently. "Instead of a lesson, how about I show you the progress we have made?"

He pushed the letter towards her. It was signed by the Viscount. She took it in her hands, reading it over carefully. She re-read it several times, not believing it. The Viscount was inviting a small, diplomatic party to open a negotiation between Kirkwall and the Qunari. They did not need to leave their weapons behind as they were requested before, only that their weapons must be bound to them. The same would be said of the Viscount and his diplomats.

"This is..." Javeen smiled, "a good compromise."

"It is acceptable," Kaaras agreed. "I have been chosen to lead this negotiation. The Arishok must stay to lead the rest of us, however...I believe that I am a prudent choice."

She handed the letter back to him. "You are perfect for it. From teacher to student, you are ready."

"I still have much to learn. But it is good to learn from experience, than just from words."

As Javeen nodded her agreement, suddenly someone burst through the entrance of the tent, eye wide and short of breath. Joanna, in her third month of being Qunari, decided not to wear an eyepatch to cover up the scar that ran down her face. Her hair was still damp from a bath. She had been in a hurry.

"Hawke," Joanna exclaimed, "you need to go."

Joanna had grabbed Javeen's hand and pulled her up before anything else could be questioned, and Kaaras chuckled as she was dragged away. Just outside the tent, Javeen wrenched her hand out of Joanna's grasp, planting her feet firmly into the dirt.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Taking you to your mom's funeral," Joanna said firmly, grabbing for Javeen's hand again. Javeen easily kept it out of her surprisingly strong grasp.

Javeen's jaw went hard. "And why are you doing this, Joanna?"

"Because!" Joanna turned to face her, her eye welling up slightly. She took a breath, calming herself. "Because. If you run from it, you'll never forgive yourself. I...when Papa died I-I couldn't..." She shook her head. "I made that mistake. And even as you pretend that you're fine, that you're fine for missing it, you will never forget that you weren't there on that day."

"I've already-"

Joanna stomped her foot once. "You are part of Kirkwall, and that's important to you. Mourn how you want, but don't miss this part of it. Besides, I-I want to pay my respects to Mistress Hawke too. I liked her. So let's go together."

Javeen hesitated. That wave of fear that made her run in the first place bubbled in her stomach, but looking at Joanna...she was right. She couldn't run from it. She had to face it, and accept the reality of it all. She owed her mother her presence at least, and the other women too. Javeen was responsible for all of them. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's go."

The streets were quiet for once. Even when dark, there was always something happening-like a bandit attack or a drunken brawl. It was a relief for both of them as they walked. Slowly, as Javeen still needed to build up the strength to face that grave. Slowly, because Joanna hadn't stepped foot out of the Compound ever since she first arrived there. She was taking in all the familiar sights, sounds. Ones that she would say goodbye to, for good one day.

Javeen glanced at her. She could only guess the reasons why Joanna missed her father's funeral. Maybe it was too much, maybe her mother had made it too scary. One was understandable, one was monstrous. Joanna noticed the stare, and looked ahead and smiled slightly.

"There were so many reasons why I missed it. He was my world. And when he was gone...everything changed. Mother used to treat me with kindness, if you can believe it. But when father was gone, all that kindness vanished without a trace. Maybe because it was never real in the first place. But it made her anger so much harder because I could remember all the good times too."

"Joanna-"

"I was overwhelmed. So I stayed at home, like a fool. I only made her anger worse. I thought if I mourned alone that would be right because I had been alone all along." Her lip trembled. "But that wasn't true.. I wasn't alone. Mother was over but...my brothers loved him too."

Joanna rarely spoke about her brothers. She quite clearly got visibly more upset when the conversation shifted to them. Javeen thought they were a bunch of typical, idiotic nobles too consumed with their own wants, but maybe they were important to Joanna...maybe they weren't like their mother.

"I abandoned them when I should have been beside them, reading the rites. Maybe that's why they are so loyal to her now."

Javeen gritted her teeth. "If that's the case Joanna, then they are not worth the pain."

They were silent after that, finding their way through the streets, avoiding the occasional glace their way. When Javeen saw the mess of flowers spread in the streets, her heart pounded in her ears. They approached the grave cautiously, trying there best not to step on any petals. Maker, but there were so many.

The grave was so decorated with flowers you could barely see the stone underneath. She glanced at the burned pyre not too far from the grave itself, still smelling of smoke. It had gone just as it should. It would be cleaned up tomorrow and an urn filled with her ashes would be sent to her home in the morning. There had already been talk of a small statue of her, but Javeen had refused. If she saw that everyday she would lose her goddamn mind. She knelt before the small grave, brushing the flowers away enough for her to read it.

'Leandra Hawke'

Javeen smiled. They hadn't used the Amell surname.

Joanna stepped up to the grave, her hands nervous and biting her lip. Javeen held back a chuckle. She was nervous as she was. "What's wrong?"

"Um, it's just...I don't know how Qunari...you know. Do funerals?"

That time, Javeen did laugh. God, what an amazing feeling to laugh right now. "That's okay. You'll learn one day. For her at least, you can do whatever you want."

Jonna smiled, and knelt beside her. "She was always so kind. I only met her a few times...and every time she never ignored me, or...or made me feel pitied. She didn't treat me like a bastard."

Javeen nodded. "Probably because her parents thought of us as bastards. So if she ever..." Javeen swallowed back the tightness in her throat. "If she ever treated another bastard like that, how could she face us?"

"I'm sorry Leandra..." Joanna sighed, running her fingers over mother's name on the grave. "We will miss you so much."

Then Joanna stood up, moving a few steps away to give her some space. It was Javeen's turn to say goodbye. She took a shaky breath, clutching the necklace in her hand. She wanted to drape the necklace around the grave...but someone would steal it eventually. She would keep the necklace on her. At least for now.

She read her mother's name over and over, trying to get words out. She had to calm herself down. Concentrating on her breathing, like she did when she meditated, she shut out all background noise, concentrating only on the immediate surroundings around her. She faced the grave with all the focus she could muster.

And finally, she spoke, though it was only a whisper.

"I'm sorry mother. I'm so sorry I didn't save you." She squeezed her hands into painfully tight fists. "It was my fault. My fault, it was all my fault."

She covered her face as tears stung the corners of her eyes. "I'm going to miss you so much."

Her eyes went wide as mother's voice filled her mind.

You can still save her.

And Javeen heard it. A footstep. Like a shadow cat, Javeen lifted herself off the ground and took out her claws, her dagger, and caught another dagger in its grasp. The enemy dagger had been aimed at Joanna's back.

The two were stuck in stalemate as Joanna shrieked and ducked out of the way. The assailant shoved back, jumping a few steps backwards to recover themself. Javeen then glared, and moved herself between them and Joanna, keeping an arm in front of their clear target.

Then she noticed what kind of dagger the assailant held.

Joanna gasped. "That's...that's a Qunari blade..."

The assassin was wearing a mask of course, but they certainly were not Qunari. While the Qun definitely had its assassins, no culture was void of those, the Qunari would not send an assassin against their own. "Stay back, Joanna," Javeen said, figuring out exactly who sent them.

There's only one person who wanted Joanna dead. And she wanted to frame the Qunari.

The assassin eyed their surroundings. People who heard Joanna's scream were coming out of their homes to see what was going on. The assassin likely assumed that this had been their only chance to get at her, since this was the first time she left the Compound since she was taken there. And they couldn't risk the chance that Javeen would walk her back. So, when Javeen was distracted...

Her jaw tightened. She couldn't let this bastard get away.

She grabbed Arzhela and notched an arrow, drawing back in seconds. The assassin slid sideways and flitted towards her, making sure not to run in a straight line. They were too quick to hit. They jumped and readied their dagger, confident in their close distance.

In a split second, Javeen lowered Arzhela, but kept the arrow in one hand. She ducked the slice from the Qunari dagger and plunged the arrow into their shoulder, with as much strength as she could.

The assassin grunted something in a different language and again jumped back a few steps. But Javeen noticed their other hand move strangely, shifting under their cloak, and before she could tell what was happening, a small bolt lodged into her side.

She ignored the burning pain in her side and the concerned shouts of Joanna. The assassin used that moment to turn tail and start to flee. Javeen snarled and notched another arrow. "Oh fuck you, no you don't!"

The arrow lodged itself into the back of their leg, just as they were climbing up a house down the street. They slipped and fell, their eyes growing panicked as they saw Javeen barreling towards them, ignoring the growing redness welling at her side.

As it turned out, he would not be able to enjoy any wine or pretty poets again.

Javeen rested a hand where the bolt was, twitching at the pain. A small, hand sized crossbow like the one they used were rare, and expensive. And when you thought of expensive assassins, you thought of Crows.

She eyed the dagger, picking it up as Joanna rushed to her side. "Oh Make-I mean, oh Flames, Hawke, are you okay?"

Javeen nodded. In the distance, at the Viscount's keep doors, a familiar shade of orange hair caught her eye. She sighed. "Sorry Joanna, I'm gonna have to deal with some bullshit before I can take you back home."

"Back home? But-"

Javeen groaned in pain. "Just give me a second."

When Aveline arrived minutes later, Javeen wasted no time. She handed Aveline the dagger. "Evidence. Keep it until I can come back and testify."

Aveline, who was red eyed and looked exhausted, just gaped at her possible ex friend. "Wh- evidence. What are you even talking about when you are bleeding out? Go to the Keep and get to a bloody doctor!"

"Gotta take her home first." Javeen nodded towards Joanna, then pointed at the corpse. "Assassin. Possible Crow. Sent by you-know-who. Will testify later."

Aveline glanced at Joanna. "Joanna Linette..."

Javeen snapped her fingers angrily. "Assassin. Right there. Deal with it."

"Oh for-" Aveline snapped back. "Go. Get. A healer."

"I WILL," Javeen yelled, ignoring the searing pain that came with it, "WHEN I TAKE HER HOME. NOW DO YOUR FUCKING JOB FOR ONCE!"

She didn't even feel bad as Aveline wilted, and all her commanding sense of self went away in a second. There was no way Aveline would force her to stay now. She turned towards Joanna and nodded forward. "Let's go."

"B-but-"

When Javeen didn't stop, Joanna followed, taking one last terrified glance at the assassin that tried to kill her. And the woman who looked like she was about to cry.