Our Ghosts Are The Same

Dragon Age 2

Chapter 23: (Part One) Something Borrowed

A/N: I've been editing and rewriting this thing in its entirety so some chapters may be eventually replaced with updated versions. BTW, if you haven't been watching Galavant on ABC you are missing out.

Also, I may have lied. Might extend past 25 chapter.

It will extend past 25 chapters.

Aedan had been sitting in silence for an incredibly long amount of time. He knew it was making the Champion nervous. She was sitting as well, only she was at the complete opposite end of the room and was drumming her fingers incessantly. She must have been shit at cards; she had too many tells to even count.

Finally he spoke. "The demon's not dead?"

She startled. "Well, you brag about killing Flemeth all the time and she's definitely not dead either."

"Flemeth's not dead?!"

"I'm not making this better, I can tell. Do you want to hug again?"

He did not. Perhaps this was his fault. He should have known better than to expect Hawke to fulfill his request without any hangups. Hell, he hadn't been able to do the thing himself.

And Morrigan had mentioned that killing Flemeth would most likely not get rid of her forever. Knowing that the witch he had killed was alive did not sit well with him. Maybe he should try to find a bright side. All he really knew at this point was that this was going to be painful.

"Hawke," he began quietly, noting that she was a little jumpy today and for very good reason. "If you did not kill the demon than what did you do with all that time in the fade?"

She was not pleased with either his tone or his words. Most likely it was both. "I didn't spend it singing songs and skipping if that's what you're asking."

He continued, still in that unnerving, quiet way, "The tell me why am I not falling prey to it's machinations?"

"That's because it's mostly dead."

"Mostly dead," he repeated. Mostly dead? "You made all those demands of me and my family and you didn't even finish the job?"

Sniffing and crossing her arms, Hawke refused to look at him. "Hey, don't make me the bad guy in this. You should never have asked me to do this in the first place."

She was getting defensive, Aedan thought, until he realized this wasn't a defensive tactic she was using; it was offensive. Hawke was angry with him. That was nice but he was angry, too. "What happened in the fade when you almost killed this demon?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Hawkling."

She gave in rather quickly. "To begin, this was probably the worst job I've ever been asked to do. And I had to do it alone and you know what that meant? Yes, I was the only one who got hear my witty backtalk and puns. And that was the real crime here."

"I'm willing to offer you a lot of money if you just give me the short version."

"If I cut out half the jokes I made that'll make this story half an hour shorter to tell."

"Cut out all the jokes."

"Cousland, sometimes I don't know how I put up with you."

"I was thinking the same about you."

Hawke was not happy about having to cut out all the 'good' parts but she did as he asked. "This demon has targeted you, I believe," she stressed, "because it was attracted to a certain emotion that you feel very strongly."

She could tell that this unnerved him. "What emotion?"

"This thing feeds off guilt. It will only make contact with humans that can give him that-that regret. I think that what happened here before Ostagar, that loss, is what gave the demon the initial power to manifest here and go after you."

Maker, she hated that soft voice of his. It was scary. "Are you implying that I am guilty of something?"

"Not criminal guilt," she corrected. "Guilt from feeling responsible for things you could not change. That sort of guilt. That's why it's after you. What I don't understand is why your brother was not targeted as well. It was his friends and family, too, that Arl Howe..." She stopped speaking. Cousland had stopped looking pissed and was staring at her, wide-eyed. "Why is it just you?"

"He tries not to think about it. About what happened."

"And you do?"

"I was there." If he was uncomfortable sharing any of this with her he did not show it. "This thing is feeding off my family's misfortune. I want it dead."

"Look, it's wounded. Now this is just speculation-"

"I want to hear it anyway."

"It was so focused on you that it ignored me and I was able to hurt it. The tear in the Veil that came from that slaughter," she looked away when he flinched, "this demon must not be able to breach it at its current strength. That's considering that you haven't fallen ill yet."

"Yet? You believe that can change?"

"If your sense of guilt increases any, maybe. But if you can manage to do what your brother does-"

He was unhappy with that analysis. "Are you suggesting that I just don't think about it? That maybe then this thing will leave me be? You know me well enough to know that isn't good enough. I want it killed."

"Then find somebody else to do it."

Was he shocked? Hawke liked to think so. He asked her slowly, "You won't do it?"

"No. It was awful. I don't want to go through that again. And considering I stabbed the bastard it'll probably take me seriously this time."

He was leaning forward in his chair now, studying her. "If you were able to make contact, then you as well must feel guilt about something? And feel it strongly enough to make contact with this spirit?"

She turned mean when she was afraid. "That noble's education you have has really paid off."

"I'm going to forgive that. This has obviously upset you. I'm not taking it well myself."

Wow, you can't tell. "Don't ask me to seek it out again. Please," she added after a moment's though.

He conceded, "You were right. I should not have asked this of you in the first place. I know what it means for a mage to risk a death in the fade. And that it not something I should expect you to risk for me. I don't understand why you did it at all."

"It's a mystery," she shrugged, avoiding the subject. "I gave you enough information that a group of Circle mages should be able to take care of it, now that they know what they face."

"My brother's wedding is in a week. I don't think Lady Anora planned time for an exorcism."

"After the wedding, then, you can have professionals take care of it. Just let me get as far away as I can get before you start fucking with that thing."

She was surprised that he agreed with her. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"I said fine." He covered his face with a palm and then used it to wipe the sweat off his brow. "No, it's not fine. Shit." Then, louder, "Shit!"

The same librarian that shushed Hawke told Cousland to watch his language. To Hawke's surprise he did not threaten to have the librarian fired. Instead he let out a short laugh and shook his head. "I used to be our last tutor's favorite. No one memorized unimportant historical dates like I did."

She was unnerved by this abrupt change in conversation. She decided it was best to just go along with it. "Were you a little bookworm, Cousland?"

"Does that shock you?" he asked, his tone mocking.

"No, not at all."

He stood. "Let's go see the tailor. Neither of us have outfits for the wedding as of yet. We'll both have to take measurements; I was still growing when I left here for Ostagar."

She followed him out of the library, humming some tavern song until she realized what Cousland had just said. "What do you mean you were still growing?"

"I was not yet twenty years of age when the Blight began."

She stopped walking. "Andraste's tits, I am so old."

Cousland sounded skeptical when he asked, "Are you older than me?"

"I know, looking at this picture of health and beauty I find it hard to believe, too"

"I was going to say your maturity does your age no credit."

"Yes, well, you would think someone as young as you would have more hair. I know you used to."

"This is a clean cut and better for...what do you mean you know...no, did you see that painting? Of all the things that were lost during the Blight are you telling me that blasted portrait stayed?"

"You don't want it I'm more than happy to take it back to Kirkwall with me. I'll hang it right over the fireplace."

"I'm not certain how to respond to that so I'm not going to."

Being measured was uncomfortable. The only highlight of the trip to the tailors was probably after the seamstress had taken Aedan's crotch measurements and Hawke had asked what they were and the tailor had actually told her. She didn't stop laughing until Aedan threw a bolt of satin at her.

"Hey, hey," she was wheezing and trying to catch up to as Aedan had stormed out. "Come on, Cousland, you should be proud. Those numbers are pretty impressive."

He turned around so quickly that they collided into one another. "I don't understand you. You could blow this entire place to pieces and do you act like it? No, you act like you're the opening act to an Orlesian circus."

What was he getting at? "If I acted like I was a bomb waiting to go off at any moment would you want to be friends with me?"

"Yes."

Cousland was clearly at the end of his rope with her. She knew the feeling. "Well, no one else normal would. Then I would have only one friend. A cranky, blue blooded celebrity that is evidently younger than me."

Hawke did not appreciate his sneer. "Don't act as if you don't like me," Cousland snapped and Hawke was taken aback, aware something had changed.

Never one to let someone else get the last word in, she shouted back, "Why not? You act that way all the time."

"Perhaps you're paying attention to the wrong things."

"Uh." Shit, she had nothing. This was all wrong. Hawke had classified (and she had thought successfully) Cousland as an "Aveline" type of friend. Flirting only got you long sighs and irritated groans and nothing more because eventually it was just considered a part of her character. But now Cousland was no longer sighing or groaning and now Hawke wanted to do what she had done the first time she had snuck into the Lothering tavern and the first man to buy her a drink had turned out to be a templar. She wanted to run.

She was also never one to not give in to impulse.

She ran away? Aedan stood there, now alone, in the hallway and took several deep breaths until he achieved some sort of calm despite the situation. "I will never understand whatever the hell that was," he swore, completely aware there was no one to reply to him.

If only the Champion's indecisiveness was the least of his worries.

Aedan had never imagined a reason to bother knocking before entering his brother's office. Now he had one.

"Brother, I'm afraid I have bad news—Maker's balls!" he swore uncharacteristically. He barely had time to slap his hand over his eyes before the vision of his brother and Anora MacTir making out was permanently burned into his retinas. "Have you gone mad?"

"Fergus," Anora said in a perfect monotone, "have I mentioned before how much I adore your brother?"

Fergus shook his head. "Aedan, we're getting married soon. I don't see why this is surprising to you."

"I didn't think you..." Aedan suddenly thought better of what he was about to say. I didn't think you actually liked her. "I'm obviously intruding." Why couldn't have this just stayed a political arrangement? He could deal with that. But this? It was unsettling. Disturbing, even.

Anora agreed. "Yes."

"So I'll have to ask you to leave, my Lady."

"Ah." Fergus looked at Anora and then at his younger brother. "I don't really care for what's happening here. Does it feel awkward in here to anyone else? Anyone? Where's a servant to agree with me when I need one?"

"Fergus, it's family business."

"Which is why I should stay. I'll soon be family-"

"Maker, do not say that aloud."

Anora was not to be moved. And it looked like Fergus was going to remain neutral, at least this time. Aedan wished he had stabbed Howe just one more time, specifically for forcing this future upon him.

"Fine," Aedan seethed, deciding he did not care one way or the other. "That demon Hawke 'killed'? Didn't do as great a job as we thought."

"It's not dead?" Fergus had never been one to state the obvious before but it looked like time had changed them both.

"It's not. And she won't go after it again." He couldn't help but love how confused and irritated Anora was getting. He certainly wouldn't be the first to clue her in. Aedan continued, "We'll take care of that after the wedding, though. For now Hawke wants her payment."

"Are you sure you're feeling well? You're seriously suggesting we pay this woman for a job she did not actually complete?"

"There's a demon in this household?" Anora asked for clarification. Going off what Fergus had just said, she added, "And I agree that is odd."

Maker, he felt like a child. Aedan had almost shut Anora down with a classic, "No one asked you, Anora." It was like they were all toddlers again. Instead he found himself having to defend the Champion. It was not something he was particularly good at. "The Champion managed to wound the demon enough to buy us some time. We'll have the Circle try to exorcise it again, after your wedding."

"I don't like this," Fergus admitted. "She hid this from me initially. I don't like the idea of rewarding her for that."

"She's not asking for much," and it sounded lame even when Aedan heard it. "Most of it I can take care of. The rest...she wants to attend the wedding."

From the completely lovely face Anora was making, Aedan could tell she did not care for the idea. "Why should she want that? I had heard her table manners at her own banquet were dreadful."

"She has her own reasons. I don't think it's too much to ask for, considering we were not able to make contact with the demon at all. If you want to push this," Aedan warned, "she can attend as my plus one."

"That's not what I intended," Anora promised, her tone turning soft and apologetic.

Fergus agreed. "The Champion can attend. I was just so relieved to think that what haunted you was gone-"

"Well, it's not." Aedan didn't need his brother to tell him that the situation was disappointing. To Anora he said, "Make sure a place is set for the Champion. Next to someone she knows. And be warned, she swears in front of small children and chews with her mouth open."

Hawke planned to avoid the younger Cousland for, well, the rest of her life. And she may have been able to do it, too, if she had only remembered that the room she was currently staying in had been the Warden's old bedroom.

"Comfortable, are we?"

She had been trying to nap when he walked in. In Aedan's defense, he probably wasn't aware that his brother had given away his room to her. Hawke quickly sat up to greet him. "Aren't you nobles supposed to knock before entering a lady's bedchambers?"

"It's not a lady's bedchambers; it is mine." He glanced about the room, moving about and curiously tracing the bedposts with a finger. "I see you turned my portrait around. That was rude."

"Have I wounded you?" she asked with biting sarcasm. She was still sore that he had bested her at her own game earlier. Though, she could quickly get back on top. Her own wording made her giggle.

He ignored that quip. "An invitation is being sent to Kirkwall. And while the bride is not pleased a place setting is being put out for you, next to me if you can stand to be in my company a little longer."

"I pissed the bride off already? Usually I have to actually make it to the wedding before that happened."

"Do not dwell on it," Aedan assured her and, seeing her confusion, then explained, "Anora's not happy so I'm happy."

"That's not a good attitude to have about your future sister-in-law."

His expression let Hawke know exactly what he thought of that. She lied back down and laughed until her chest hurt from the effort. "You can stay here, I suppose. It would be strange to sleep in here again, I think."

Hawke scoffed at his suggestion and then saw a way to win again. "We can always share." She accompanied that with her usual eyebrow raising and a grin.

This laugh was unpracticed. "It would not be proper."

Oh, Maker, that wasn't a 'no' precisely. What was going on? "Are you sure you're not possessed?" she blurted, jumping out of bed to examine him more closely.

"I was, until you said that." He was frowning again. That was more like it.

"You're acting strangely. You're being..." She searched for the word, her hands fumbling through the air as if trying to grasp it.

He suggested, "Odd?"

She corrected, "Nice." At that Aedan made a low growling noise. Hawke could care less. "Perhaps this is you learning to respect your elders."

"You are not that much older than I."

"Back in my day the winters were longer and colder and-"

"I have an invitation in this pocket that I can send to Lord Cyril at any moment."

"There's the cruel and unforgiving Cousland I know. Thought I had lost you for a minute there."

A few more days passed and Aedan, after he had noticed someone small and quiet had been trailing him around the castle, recalled that he had a squire.

"Dammit, we need to get you a bell or something," Aedan complained and rounded on her. "Or, for Andraste's sake, say something once in awhile."

"Good morning, my Lord."

"Good morning," Aedan returned unenthusiastically. The girl had interrupted his thoughts and he could feel heat rush to his face as he remembered precisely what he had been thinking about as she had been shadowing him. He had run into the Champion earlier that morning while she and Ohgren were comparing arm muscles. How that situation had even began he could scarcely imagine but it had ended in the pair of them in sleeveless tunics and flexing. Walking in on that might have gone more smoothly if Ohgren then hadn't asked him to come over and judge.

He vaguely recalled getting irritated and accusing them of wasting time and then of course he and the Champion had gotten into one of their little spats. It was getting to be a routine now. They'd piss each other off, he'd quietly reprimand her and she'd loudly insult him, and then there would be a minute where they would just stare each other down, both angry and frustrated until one of them gave in and left.

It was making the entire castle uncomfortable. It didn't even escape the Teryn's notice. Fergus had heard it from the cook who heard it from the tailor who had been eavesdropping on the horsemaster...

Long story short the whole situation had led to a conversation with his brother that Aedan had never wanted to have. It had started with, "do you need me to tell you about the birds and the mabaris" and had ended with Aedan storming out of the room while his brother erupted into wild laughter.

Aedan didn't know where this hostility was coming from. He has agreed with Hawke when she had called him out and claimed he should have asked her to do this. She had been correct in that and to make up for it he was trying to be more amiable towards her. But she'd 'catch' him at it and would poke and prod him until they eventually and inevitably fought.

He had intended to confront her about it, though honestly there was little point in it. Hawke was making arrangements to return to Kirkwall after the wedding and meeting with Arl Eamon. As far as Aedan knew she had no plans to ever return to Ferelden. So whether or not they parted as friends or enemies made no difference at all in the grand scheme of things.

Yet he had sensed her trip in the fade had been more unpleasant than Hawke had originally let on. And he felt the responsibility for that heavily. Perhaps if she would speak plainly to him about it, Aedan would be able to let the burden go, but he knew if he approached her about it she would only jest with him.

When he had first met her he would have called this mechanism one of her worse traits, of which he had counted many, but now Aedan thought he knew better. Hawke had never once been in a Circle or had, as far as the stories go, been ever discovered by a templar. For someone her age this was remarkable. Even Flemeth and Morrigan were occasionally found out and some foolish templar would give chase. Never to any avail, but those wild witches screamed 'apostate'. Hawke more of screamed mercenary or wandering minstrel, if anything.

Hawke was starting to seem more clever than ridiculous as time wore on. He had no idea what that line of thinking said about him.

He was older now and not so enchanted by the mystic or foreign. He found he quite liked and valued reliable and true much more than those things that had entranced him so long ago.

But first thing was first. Aedan informed his squire that she would be staying at Highever to squire for his brother. She would be, they both knew, a glorified clerk if she stayed in Highever. And Edith pointed that out. Aedan pointed out that if she continued on with the Wardens without the Joining she'd end up as a ghoul or worse.

He made it really hard to argue with him. The girl was not happy about being passed along but once he explained it would get her her knighthood faster, she could not say no. If only the Champion worked so logically.

Hawke had been told to revisit the tailor for her first fitting. It wasn't exactly what she had expected. As she studied the suit of clothing the tailor had finished for her, her nose crinkled up in confusion. "Ah. I wasn't expecting this? I was thinking more of a dress, maybe? Not that I'm complaining," she added once she saw the man's expression.

"Why would you want a dress? You're not a woman."

"Yes, I am?"

"You did not make that clear."

"I'm very offended?" Hawke found she couldn't keep anything she said from sounding like a question. She let the tailor see how the outfit looked; she had come all this way, after all. It was something she might have picked out herself if she worried about that sort of thing.

The soft cloth boots were a pale grey and were tall enough that she had to fold them over a few inches at the knee. The trousers and tunic were nice enough, a much darker grey than the boots, but the eye-catcher of the piece was the ruby cloak that hung over only one shoulder. It fastened at the opposite shoulder with a silver bird pin that she was totally taking with her when she left.

The tailor was still awful and she couldn't wait to tell Varric about the whole situation. Maybe she could even get Aveline to punch him or something. Aveline punches really hurt.

Oh. It occurred to her that neither Varric or Aveline were any where near her. This wasn't Kirkwall. A small pang of regret hit her and she slouched in a very exaggerated fashion which drove the man fitting her mad.

"Warden-Commander Cousland claimed you liked a bit of red," the tailor explained, trying to tug the cloth off of her to be hemmed. And Hawke thought that was almost sweet until, "By 'claimed' I mean he mentioned that everything you wore had bloodstains."

That was less sweet.

But she decided to track Cousland down anyway.

"You're tailor is an ass," she said, sitting down next to him. When he did not immediately respond with anything equally as inappropriate Hawke decided to take in her surroundings. She looked around and nodded. Yes, she was interrupting what looked like a very fancy dinner that seemed to be reserved for close family members only. Namely, Fergus, Aedan, and Anora. "Did not realize it was dinner time," she apologized. "Former Queen Anora, you look ravishing as always. Is ravishing okay to say in this situation? I'm not sure."

"Marian," it always threw her off when Cousland used her first name, "Could we continue this certainly riveting conversation at a later time."

Before Hawke could tell him to shove it, Anora did something Aedan could never forgive; she agreed with him. Aedan corrected himself. "Or we can do this now. Excuse me, brother."

Anora watched the pair of them leave with a carefully hidden scowl. She looked to Fergus. "I do not care for your brother."

Fergus sighed. "I know you don't."

Hawke followed the Warden silently, deciding to let him be the first to speak this time. She was too worn out from their fight earlier that morning and was not ready for a rematch just yet. Also their fights always ended awkwardly and without a real resolution.

"Now why is our tailor an ass?" Cousland finally asked. He did not sound eager to hear her answer.

"Uh, to start he's rather inconsiderate. He didn't make me a dress nor did he ask if I wanted him to make me a dress and then he questioned my womanhood. Like, hey, nosebleed, if I say I'm a woman it is not your place to question it. Ass." She added that last curse on the end because life was short.

"Are you serious?" Now she had his interest. The Warden looked less than pleased. He answered her complaint decisively. "I'll have the man flogged. And I'll have him make a new dress for you before the wedding."

"Are you serious?" Was this Cousland overreacting? It was a little frightening. He was joking about the flogging. He had to be.

He snorted and she calmed down a bit. "Of course not. There's no time now for him to make you a new dress. The wedding is much too soon. He will be flogged, though."

Oh, shit. What had she done? Hawke ran after him comically as he had taken up pacing down the hallways again. "Cousland, I can't tell if you're kidding. Tell me you're kidding. Please. Your smug silence is not reassuring. Cousland!"

When she next had to see the tailor, for her final fitting, he made no mention of a flogging or anything of the sort. And Hawke didn't care to bring the subject up.

As she let him 'accidentally' stab her with pins she realized the wedding was only a day away. She did not know what she would say to Arl Eamon after she told she had accepted his shitty job offer. And she did not know what she would say to anyone that had heard about her latest little fiasco in Kirkwall.

And Hawke definitely did not know where she and the Warden stood.

That last thought was a useless one, and one she regretted even having, if only for a moment.

One more day and then it's back to the same old same old. With some spying on the side.

Her reassurances were less reassuring than they might have been once upon a time.

His brother was getting married. Again.

It occurred to Aedan that if he had to give a speech as he had the first time, it would not be nearly as heartfelt.

One more day and the woman that put you in those dungeons will be, by law, your sister.

Maker, you are cruel.

Maybe cruel was too harsh a word; ironic might work better. Aedan decided to push past that and focus on what would happen after the wedding. He'd send for the Circle mages, give them the new information Hawke had passed onto him, and would rid his family's home on whatever was still feeding on their pain. Just like he had done with Rendon.

And the Champion will be back in Kirkwall.

Oh, no. That was not a concern. Could not be.

So why did it suddenly irritate him to even think about the idea?

Perhaps I am possessed.