Chapter 7

My eyes are painted red,

The canvas of my soul,

Is slowly breaking down again,

Today I heard the news,

The story's getting old,

When will we see the end?

-Alex Band, Only One

Dead bodies – both Qunari and human – littered the dusty ground of Ser Varnell's Refuge. Abigail dropped to her knees beside one of the Qunari corpses, tears flooding her brilliant blue eyes. Tentatively she reached one hand out, brushing her fingertips across the one of the giant's eyes to close his lids. Pain wracked her body as she imagined the horror these proud creatures had been forced to suffer at Varnell's hands. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure. She had always been sensitive to the feelings and suffering of others, to a degree that she almost felt their pain as her own. Killing had never come naturally to her, and though she was more than capable of defending herself in a fight – as she had just proved to Ser Varnell – she almost always managed to seek out a diplomatic alternative when presented with a situation. Only this time had been different. Faced with what these men and woman had willingly done to these Qunari delegates, she had charged into battle with an almost reckless abandon. Now, in the aftermath of her bloodlust, she felt nothing but disgust.

An armored hand clasped her shoulder gently and she lifted her head, blinking back tears as she stared into Fenris's green eyes.

"It was necessary," he said softly.

She was startled by the gentleness of his tone.

"Why do people do these things?" she asked him brokenly.

"Not everyone is like you," he replied, suddenly unable to meet her eye. "You're different. You care about people,"

She wiped the tears away from her face and pushed herself to her feet, forcing herself not to look back at the dead bodies behind her. Fenris shifted his grip from her shoulder to her arm, and gently pulled her forwards, leading her back to where Aveline and Merrill waited. She glanced up at the elf's face as they walked, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips.

"Careful Fenris," she cautioned him teasingly. "If I didn't know any better I would think you actually cared about me,"

He gave her a sidelong glance. "You don't think I care about you?"

"I'm a mage," she replied, shrugging one shoulder. The smile faded from her lips. "I understand why you hate me,"

He stopped, pulling her around to face him. "I don't… You're not… You're not just…" he trailed off, shaking his head. She stared at him curiously, unable to recall a time before when she had ever seen him at a loss for words. Cursing softly beneath his breath, he began walking again, his gentle grasp on her arm still pulling her after him.

"Are you alright Hawke?" Merrill asked her as they approached, looking worried. Abby nodded her head wearily.

"I'll be fine Merrill." she glanced over at Aveline. "Has the Viscount left yet?"

The Guard Captain nodded her head. "Not too long ago. Maker… Things with the Qunari just keep going from bad to worse. I hope the Viscount can deal with this one,"

Abby sighed. "He can only try to maintain a semblance of balance. But it isn't going to last. People like Ser Varnell and Mother Petrice will eventually force the Arishok's hand," She massaged her temples between her forefinger and her thumb, wincing at the blinding headache that was beginning to form behind her eyes. "I need to get out of here,"

"I'll take you home," Fenris offered.

Abby nodded gratefully. They had taken only a few steps towards the doorway before the door was flung open and a guard came running into the Refuge. Abigail recognized him as Donnic, the stoic, dependable guard that she had rescued from an ambush three years before.

"Guardsman!" Aveline said in surprise, as he came to a skidding halt before her. His cheeks were flushed with exertion, and his breath came out in ragged pants. For a brief, irrelevant moment, Abby wondered how anyone could manage to run in such heavy armor.

"Captain…" he greeted her respectfully, still struggling to catch his breath. "I have a message for you from your friend Varric,"

Aveline's brow furrowed in annoyance. "He shouldn't be using you to do his bidding,"

"I wouldn't have done so ordinarily, but this time it's important. The man who cleared the side alley last night has been taken in by the Templars, along with your friend, Isabela. They're both being accused of being apostates,"

"Isabela an apostate?" Merrill giggled, as ever completely missing the seriousness of the situation.

"Tristan was arrested?" Abby demanded.

Donnic nodded his head helplessly, his dark brown eyes flickering between Hawke and the Captain.

"But he's not an apostate!" Abigail burst out angrily. "He's a Grey Warden! They can't do this! And as for Isabela…" She trailed off, shaking her head in fury. "It's ridiculous,"

"We should get to the gallows and find out what's going on. This could all be a mistake," Aveline offered.

Abby nodded her head. "It had better be a mistake. I'm not letting that bitch Meredith make a tranquil out of my cousin!"

…..

"Cullen!" Abigail yelled as she stormed into the gallows, with Aveline, Merrill and Fenris following hot on her heels. The Knight Captain glanced up warily as she approached, his expression growing grimmer with each step she took towards him. She strode straight up to him, glaring furiously up into his light brown eyes. Without thinking, she raised one hand and slammed her fist against the steel breastplate of his armor, pounding out her rage into the Templar embossed metal.

"Hawke…" Aveline said warningly.

"Where is he?" she snarled at Cullen.

His only reaction to her violent outburst was to raise one eyebrow in question. "I beg your pardon?"

"Hawke…" the Guard Captain repeated urgently.

Abigail continued to ignore her. "Don't play dumb with me you fool!" she told Cullen. "Tristan Amell! Your idiot Templars arrested him this afternoon along with one of my other friends! So where the hell is he?" she ranted, slamming her hand against his breastplate again.

"Hawke!" Aveline yelled.

Cullen's expression changed from one of irritation to genuine surprise. Hawke stepped back from him, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She glanced over briefly at Aveline, her blue eyes filled with silent apology.

Keep your cool, Hawke, she told herself. Beating up the Knight Captain isn't going to help anyone,

"Tristan Amell?" he repeated, his voice almost reverent. "The Hero of Ferelden? He's here?"

"He's been arrested," Abby growled.

"That's impossible," Cullen replied. "He's a Grey Warden. Our Templars have no jurisdiction to arrest him,"

"Try telling that to the Knight Commander," Aveline told him. "According to my men she's the reason that he was arrested,"

Cullen's brow furrowed as he considered her words. "Perhaps she doesn't know who he is. I should go speak to her…" Without waiting for a response he moved forwards, swiftly crossing the cobbled courtyard of the gallows towards the Templars quarters. Abigail ran to catch up with him, falling quickly into step beside him. He shot her a sidelong glance.

"How did I know you weren't just going to wait around for me to sort this out?" he asked, his voice a sigh.

"He's my cousin, Cullen. And Isabela is my best friend. I'm not going to wait around while they're in trouble,"

"Your cousin?" Cullen echoed in surprise. It took him a second longer to make the connection. "Of course… Amell. I should have realized sooner," he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to him. You don't need to lose…" he trailed off, letting the sentence hang, but Abigail knew what he had been trying to say. She didn't need to lose another family member. It was only after Carver's death that she had found out that he had been planning to join the Templars after they returned from their Deep Roads expedition. Cullen had visited her house not long after his death, offering her and her mother his condolences. He hadn't had much chance to get to know Carver, but his empathy for his death had always touched Abigail.

"Thank you," she whispered.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, each lost to their own thoughts. The Knight Commander's office was empty, so Cullen led her instead to the small cobbled courtyard at the end of the short hallway. A small smirk tugged at Abby's lips at the sound of Isabela's angry voice carrying down the hall towards them. Several Templars stood inside the open courtyard, along with the Knight Commander, the Grand Cleric, Tristan and Isabela.

"This is ridiculous!" Isabela was protesting. "He is a Warden! You can't take him!"

"A Warden!" Meredith scoffed. "He is an apostate – and a dangerous one at that. If he refuses to co-operate then we will have no choice but to use the Rite of Tranquility to subdue him,"

"There's no need for that," Cullen interrupted, striding into the room. Abigail followed him quickly. The Knight Commander turned her brilliant blue eyes towards them as they walked in, her face shining with righteous fury.

"Knight Captain," she greeted him coolly. "I assume you have a good reason for interrupting us?"

Cullen nodded his head. "I do. I can vouch for this man. He is indeed a Grey Warden – The Hero of Ferelden, in fact,"

Doubt crept into Meredith's weathered features. "You're sure of this?"

"He was a mage in the Ferelden Circle at the same time that I was commissioned there," he glanced towards Tristan, meeting his gaze. "We were friends, of a sort. He's a good man,"

"And what about her?" the Knight Commander added, pointing a finger at Isabela.

"She's not even a mage," Cullen responded immediately. "You can let her go."

Meredith nodded her head. "I thought as much," she glanced at the Templar who held Isabela firmly in his grasp. "You may release her,"

"What about Tristan?" Abby demanded, moving into the courtyard. Tristan glanced over at her.

"Nice to see you again, Hawke," he greeted her, smiling charmingly at her. He seemed to be the only person in the entire courtyard who looked completely unconcerned by the entire situation.

"I have some questions for you Warden," Meredith told him. The smile slipped from Tristan's features, and he turned back to the Knight Commander, his expression cold.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he replied stonily.

"I will not allow a mage to go running around my city…"

"I'm not a mage. I'm a Grey Warden Commander. My business is my own," he took a step closer to Meredith, confidence and authority radiating from him. The change in him was so sudden and dramatic that it took Abby's breath away. One moment he was the sweet, charming, handsome stranger she had met the previous night, and the next he was the powerful and imposing Grey Warden Commander who had slain the archdemon and defeated the fifth blight.

Meredith opened her mouth to argue his words, but fell silent as Grand Cleric Elthina rested a gentle hand upon her arm.

"The boy speaks the truth. He's a hero, not a criminal. We have no reason to hold him,"

Isabela walked forwards quickly, grabbed Tristan's wrist and tugged him forwards, her gold eyes bright with relief. "I think that's our cue to leave,"

He nodded his head distractedly, his blue eyes still holding Meredith's menacingly, before dropping his gaze and following after Isabela willingly as she led him from the courtyard. Abby fell into step beside them, her shoulders sagging in relief as they walked back down the hallway.

"Well…" Isabela said sarcastically. "That was fun,"

Abby glanced at her with a smile. "Thanks for looking after my cousin, Bela,"

The Rivaini pirate shrugged, glancing down awkwardly. "What was I supposed to do Hawke? He's too good-looking to let them make him tranquil. It would have been an utter waste,"

Abby chuckled loudly and Tristan rolled his eyes, giving Isabela a playful punch on her arm. "Well whatever your reasons, I'm glad you stuck around," he added.

"C'mon," Abby grabbed his other hand, giving it a tug. "Celebratory dinner at my house, Amell," she smiled at him good naturedly. "You owe me that much,"