Anyone interested in meeting Hawke?

Rise

Marian Hawke was very much as I had imagined her, based on Varric's descriptions: middling height for a human woman, lean, with short, dark hair, bright blue eyes, and sharp features. She wasn't quite as quick-witted, perhaps, and filled in the gaps with an unexpected and thoroughly disarming warmth, but it was easy to recognize her as the Champion of Kirkwall whom Varric spoke of with so much admiration and fondness.

We were meeting on top of the walls, in the lee of one of the towers, sitting at a little table Varric had brought up and drinking tea I kept hot with a small glyph traced on the pot. Hawke had improved upon our refreshments with some honey mead from a flask, which made me wonder if she carried it around to add to any tea she was offered, or if it was her preferred drink in general.

"I confess, you aren't quite what I expected," she told me, regarding me over the rim of her cup.

"How so?" I asked, wondering what Varric had been saying about me.

"You're younger, to start with. I'll admit, I was expecting a hardened warrior - "

Varric rolled his eyes. "She's the same age you were when you fought the Arishok, Hawke."

"What?" Hawke turned her head to pin him in place with a playful glower. "Now that simply can't be. I won't believe I ever ran around Kirkwall killing the idiots raining from the sky while looking that much like a child. I also won't believe I am so old now that I would mistake a woman in her mid-twenties for an adolescent."

"Well, Vanish admittedly has more than her fair share of the wide-eyed elven waif about her, but she is older than you were when we first ventured into the Deep Roads," Varric told his friend calmly.

Hawke spent another moment staring at him with narrowed eyes while he smirked at her, unconcerned. "You also remind me a little of my sister," she said, abruptly returning her attention to me. "You're pretty in a similar way - I automatically find myself feeling a bit protective and wanting to ask if anyone has bothered you, even knowing you're running the place."

"I can see it," Varric put in, "but you never gave Sunshine enough credit. Your sister's not a charismatic, take-command sort of leader, but she's just as tough as you are, and people notice after a while."

"Maybe that's what happened to me," I told him. "I'm not particularly charismatic or take-command."

"Modesty can be its own sort of charisma, Vanish," he told me. I wasn't certain what he meant, but he moved right along before I could ask. "So, let's talk Corypheus." He looked at Hawke. "I figured you might have some friendly advice about him. You and I did fight him, after all."

Hawke raised an eyebrow at me. "You've already dropped half a mountain on the bastard. I'm sure anything I can tell you pales in comparison."

"Perhaps," I allowed, "but...well, I'm the only one, besides Varric, within the Inquisition who has come face to face with him, and we have no information outside of those encounters. Even small clues might provide places to start. I know this much: he'll keep killing people until he gets what he wants, and he wants to be a god. We can check with Varric, but I don't think the odds are good he would suddenly be content to stop killing afterward ."

Varric snorted. "I'm not offering odds on that. The answer is too obvious."

"That does sound like something you ought to stop," Hawke said with a slight emphasis on "you," but she immediately sat up from the slouch she had fallen into. "All right, all right, I'll tell you whatever I know, for whatever good it does."

"How did you end up fighting Corypheus before?" I asked.

"Fighting and killing," she insisted. "The Grey Wardens were holding him, and he somehow used his connection to the Blight to influence them."

"He got into their heads," Varric said. "Messed with their minds. Turned them against each other."

"And now the Wardens have disappeared," I pointed out. "My people have been trying to trace them for months."

"Well, that's ominous," she said. "I suppose there's nothing stopping them from having fallen under his control again."

"Do you know of any way to free them?" I asked.

"Personally? No, but I do have contacts who might have ideas - but we'll need to know more first."

"The story of my life, at least recently," I told her wryly.

"I've got a friend in the Wardens," Hawke reassured me. "He was investigating something unrelated for me, and we're supposed to meet soon. It's a place to start. His name is Stroud." She paused thoughtfully. "The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then, nothing."

"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks," Varric put in. "Did Stroud disappear with the rest of them?"

"No," Hawke replied. "We're supposed to meet in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood."

"What was he investigating for you? If you don't mind me asking," I added quickly.

Hawke flicked her fingers dismissively. "A strange form of lyrium the templars in Kirkwall were using. We first found it in the Deep Roads, so I thought the Wardens might have some insight."

Varric gave a pained laugh, causing Hawke to shoot him a confused look.

"We've encountered red lyrium," I explained. "Corypheus has been using it to corrupt the templars, turning them into his slaves. It was templars who attacked Haven."

She took a deep breath. "Well...shit."

"Stop stealing my lines, Hawke," Varric muttered, still not terribly amused.

"Perhaps Stroud will be able to tell us more," she said, ignoring Varric's complaint.

"It looks like there are a lot of connections here," I observed. "Thank you for your help."

"Turns out I'm doing it as much for myself as for you," she said with forced lightness, which fell away as she placed her cup on the table, bending over it with palpable disquiet. "Corypheus could be considered my responsibility," she said, "seeing as I freed him from the wards that were - just barely - holding him. I thought I took care of it by killing him afterward, but...apparently not. Next time...next time I'll make sure of it."

Varric gave her a pained look. "The Wardens were either going to free him themselves or attempt to control him. Do you really think controlling him would have worked better?"

"Control him?" I echoed. "Were they mad?"

"Probably," Varric answered.

"He was, as we said, manipulating them," Hawke sighed.

"You can't take responsibility for everything," Varric told her. "Some things are only...Hawke-adjacent."

"I doubt you're at fault for his current rampage," I told her, "and defeating him is my responsibility now, it seems." I held up the Anchor. "You should know as well as anyone that sometimes we end up responsible for things we didn't go looking for."

"Maker - isn't that the truth," she grumbled, drinking down the rest of her tea before sighing again and putting the cup aside. "I'll leave the location of the cave with your people, and we can meet in Crestwood."

"Hawke," Varric began.

"Stay a night or two," I urged her. "Isn't it a shemlen holiday? I'm told we won't be celebrating in a grand style, but you're welcome to stay for it. At least rest long enough to have a hot bath."

She wavered. "I...don't celebrate Satinalia - or much of anything - anymore. Too many memories," she said. "But...a hot bath is enticing."

"We could clear out the Herald's Rest, have a night of Wicked Grace with a few faces you'll recognize, and a handful you would probably enjoy knowing," Varric wheedled. "The Inquisitor keeps putting me off, but I'll bet she would come learn the game for you."

I found myself laughing. "Knowing you, you already have bet on it," I accused him. "But, yes - I will go learn Wicked Grace and play hostess if you'll stay, Hawke."

She gave Varric a measuring look. "I expect half your winnings."

"A third," he argued back. "What do you need cash for, anyway?"

"I'll send any I don't need to Fenris - he always has a freed slave or two in need of something to set them up," she argued back. "Half."

"Fine, half," Varric sighed. "If you stay two nights and let Dagna take a look at your weapons. She's sketched out some upgrades for Bianca that you wouldn't believe."

"Who's Dagna?" I asked Varric. "Oh, wait - the new artificer I haven't had a chance to meet?"

"That's right," he replied. "You should talk to her. She's creative - maybe even brilliant - and...eager. And I'm fairly certain she's only here to get a good look at the Anchor."

Hawke laughed at whatever my expression was. "You should probably get used to it. It will be hard to hide the glowing hand. At least I can change out of my armor and slip into a crowd."

I made a face, drained my own tea, and stood. "I'll see if one of the towers has a room in good enough repair for you to sleep in, and arrange for a bath and a hot meal," I told her. "I won't be long."

Varric rose, as well. "I...had better talk to Cassandra."

I winced. "Do it publicly. I would rather someone intervene if she tries to kill you, all right?"

"You have a much higher opinion of my ability to inspire other people to stick their necks out for me than I do," he muttered.

"Then do it publicly so that I can come running if she tries to kill you," I instructed him, rolling my eyes as I walked away.

"Well," Hawke said behind me, "at least you've inspired the Inquisitor to stick her neck out for you. That's something, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Varric sighed, and I wasn't certain I was supposed to overhear, but the wind and stone conspired to bring me an echo of his words. "That's Vanish - but I'm afraid she's the sort of hero who's better at sticking her neck out than protecting it. And you know how that story usually ends."

"Indeed I do," Hawke agreed, echoing his sigh.

I caught a runner in the courtyard and had her direct a servant my way, whom I then questioned about the states of the various towers, sending him to find someone who knew more when it turned out he couldn't answer my questions. In the end, I had to talk to half a dozen people to get what I wanted, and that was roughly how long it took Varric to work up the courage to approach Cassandra.

I didn't actually see it happen, of course - my vision within Skyhold was better, not good - but I heard it when the yelling started.

"You knew where Hawke was all along!" Cassandra shouted.

"You're damned right I did!" Varric shouted right back.

I started running, and realized for the first time that I could see well enough to run.

I arrived in time to see Cassandra take a swing at Varric - probably not her first - as she growled, "You conniving little shit !"

"You kidnapped me! You interrogated me!" Varric shot back, dodging another swing. "What did you expect?"

"That's enough !" I snapped, and gestured toward a convenient door. "Inside. Now."

"You're taking his side ?" Cassandra demanded, incredulous.

"We will discuss it in private," I told her stiffly, with a brief gesture to indicate the audience I could feel we had gathered.

Cassandra seemingly remembered, for the first time, where she was, and gave a tight nod before turning on her heel and stalking toward the door. Inside, Threnn's replacement - what was his name? Morris or something? - looked up and squeaked when he saw Cassandra bearing down on him. "Out," she ordered.

"We need a little privacy," I told him more gently.

He vacated the room without complaint, probably just glad Cassandra's ire wasn't directed at him. "We needed someone to lead this Inquisition," she said without turning. "First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke, but she was gone, too." She turned to glower at us both. "We thought it all connected, but no - it was just you . You kept her from us!"

"The Inquisition has a leader!" Varric reminded her, gesturing at me.

"Hawke would have been at the Conclave. If anyone could have saved Most Holy…"

That was what she was thinking? "Hawke would have died," I told Cassandra, forcing my voice to remain even. "You saw the vision at the temple - I came in after the explosion. It killed everyone who was there - everyone except for the sacrifice Corypheus purposely sheltered for his own reasons. Hawke wouldn't have had a chance to save the Divine. She would have died, and if you had been there with her, you would have died, too."

"Then - what? The Maker intended - " Cassandra paled, and then shook her head savagely. "Varric is a liar , Inquisitor - a snake. Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept her secret."

"She's with us now!" Varric defended himself.

"Which means he wrote to her months ago," I pointed out. "Before Haven fell, I imagine."

"We're all on the same side," he pleaded.

"We all know whose side you're on, Varric - it will never be the Inquisition's."

"Good!" I threw my hands up. "You heard what I said to the Blades! I don't want people dedicated to an organization, I want people dedicated to what is right. Organizations can be corrupted, people can allow themselves to be corrupted, but right is right, and Varric believed he was protecting his friend. On the other hand," I added, turning to look at Varric before Cassandra could do more than scowl, "you should have told Cassandra the truth when you wrote Hawke and asked that she come. There was no reason to put it off besides cowardice. For that, you owe Cassandra an apology."

Varric growled uncomfortably, but eventually muttered a grudging, "I'm sorry."

Cassandra sighed. "Go, Varric. Just...go."

I waited with her while he escaped in somewhat resentful silence.

"I believed him," she groaned as the door closed behind him. "He spun his story for me and I swallowed it. If I'd just explained what was at stake...if I'd just made him understand." Her hands rose to cover her face briefly, before she lowered them again. "But I didn't, did I? I didn't explain why we needed Hawke. I'm such a fool."

"Have you looked at our Inquisition, Cassandra? We're all fools here." I gestured ruefully at myself. "I'm a half-blind Dalish elf who ran away from my clan to watch a shemlen political summit - and then ran in when it literally exploded."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked wryly.

"Hopefully more at home, anyway," I replied.

"You never said you had run away from your clan," she observed.

"No," I agreed. "It was...too private. Clan business. But, well - if you can yell at Varric in front of me, I can probably tell you that because my vallaslin wasn't completed, I was still a child in the eyes of my clan. Leaving was both the best and most foolish decision I've ever made."

"The best, for the rest of us," she said. "I never intended to imply I was dissatisfied with your leadership, Inana. You have done remarkable things - and proved yourself an equally remarkable and principled leader."

"I know. You have no problems letting me know when you disagree with me, which I appreciate," I told her. "Would you actually like to meet Hawke?" I asked, changing the subject. "Varric and I convinced her to stay for a couple of nights, and apparently we're playing Wicked Grace tonight."

She chuckled. "As it happens, I dislike Wicked Grace. I also think I need some time away from Varric. But tell me if you switch to diamondback tomorrow. I actually enjoy that game on occasion."

"I will certainly do that," I agreed, and left to see if Hawke's accommodations were ready.