Oh my word I am so sorry to everyone I just left!
Real life got the better of me, but here is a very short chapter for PUTP, featuring some drivers for plot... MORE WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE.
Picking Up The Pieces Chapter 4
When Sebastian woke the next day his neck and back ached from the bed that wasn't his own. He hadn't slept much, his guilt about many things kept him awake. What he had heard from Aveline had shocked him, scared him even. This new Hawke, he was someone to be wary of.
Sebastian was greeted by the servants he had brought from Starkhaven, a welcome sight amongst all the ill-feeling. He was given a fine breakfast before heading out, avoiding the questions about bodyguards. He carried a blade on him; he was certain that would be enough. He was not so different to the Sebastian of three years ago that he needed a chaperone just to walk the streets!
As Sebastian walked up the familiar stone steps to the Chantry, he couldn't help but recall the last time he had been there.
"Sebastian this is madness. Why leave now when there is still so much the Maker can help you with?"
"I cannot stay in the city that killed a good man just for being born your grace. I am sorry, but I have learnt much here, and I will use it to be the best ruler for Starkhaven."
"Sebastian..."
"I'm sorry your grace. You cannot change my mind. I will always serve the Maker, but this is something I must do."
The Chantry had not changed much in those three years. The red candles still burned brightly, the towering gold of Andraste overlooking the building with unseeing eyes. The familiar smell of the incense brought great comfort to the Prince as he savoured that feeling of being home after a long time.
"Sebastian?" A voice made him turn, and there was the Grand Cleric.
Sebastian was shocked by her appearance. She seemed so old, so frail now, compared to the woman he'd argued with so passionately when he had been serving as a Brother. His mind went back to Hawke, that cold smile. Was he responsible for this?
"Your grace!" He started to make a move of respect, but Elthina wrapped her arms around him in a motherly embrace.
"Welcome home Sebastian."
They took seats in the backroom of the Chantry, to talk and catch up over some simple tea. Elthina seemed delighted at Sebastian's new life, at how well things had been going in Starkhaven. She seemed very proud in way that warmed Sebastian's heart, but also made him sad.
"Your grace... I often wrote requesting that you came to Starkhaven to be our Grand Cleric. You never responded." He studied the woman's face. It was drawn and haggard, dark circles under her eyes. She seemed so very small now, hunched in the wooden chair clutching a cup of tea.
"Oh Sebastian. Things in Kirkwall have not been easy since you have left. The people are as destitute and needy as ever, if not more than you saw. Kirkwall needs me more than Starkhaven ever could." There was such sorrow behind her grey eyes. She wasn't revealing everything, Sebastian was sure of it.
"The people here... they are desperate. They cry out for the Chantry to reason with the Viscount, but there is little we can do. The Chantry has always been a safe haven; it is not our place to meddle with politics of a city."
Elthina's logic was both commendable and infuriating, and Sebastian remembered a heated discussion he'd had with Anders once regarding her methods. Instinctively, his hand covered his wrist.
"But come Sebastian, I doubt you came here to listen to the troubles of a city that is not yours, I wish to hear more of Starkhaven. Have you married yet?" The Prince smiled at her unsubtle subject-change. He obliged her though, it was no longer his place to question the motives of the Kirkwall Chantry.
"No your grace, I must be honest though, I have not been looking."
"Sebastian..." She chided him gently, in that familiar voice. "You cannot be tied to the past forever."
His hand tightened its grip, feeling the outline of the thin leather against his fingers. "I have simply been too busy your grace... I'm sure soon enough I will look for a... companion." She would not understand if he explained it to her, he was sure. Rather to leave her satisfied with his answers now. She was no longer his confidante, and she had burdens enough without his troubles.
They talked for a while longer, before Elthina had to prepare for the evening service. Sebastian promised to return to watch.
As he left the Chantry, he looked out over Kirkwall with a gnawing sense of guilt. He had left this city behind without a moments regard for the people he was leaving behind. He wondered what things had happened, were happening.
With a heavy sigh, Sebastian descended the steps and was heading in the direction when a heavy shoulder collided with his in the crowded streets. As he turned to apologise, the owner of the shoulder was doing the same.
"Sebastian?" The voice that spoke was low and gravelly, an elf with white hair, dark skin and those green eyes that could show every expression. Sebastian knew him well, and it was like seeing a ghost.
"Fenris?"