A/N: Thanks for the reviews I've gotten so far. And also thanks to those who have just poked around! Enjoy!
Update: Hurk! Was just pointed out that I doubled the ending on this chapter. Thanks to Anesor for the note. /facepalm
"I understand that your audience with the queen must be pressing, but her schedule is filled for the day. If you would like, you may wait and see if she can squeeze you in later," said the immaculately dressed man at the queen's study. He turned pages in the appointment book at his fingertips. Even his fingernails were pretty, Hawke thought as she realized that she hadn't bothered to clean her own nails. She tucked her hands away delicately in the folds of her dress and watched as he confirmed the queen's packed schedule with a curt nod of his head.
Snooty bastard. Hawke nodded at the man with a small smile as he looked down his nose at her.
She had begrudgingly spent a small fortune on a new dress to play the part of a lesser noblewoman from the Free Marches. They still had no idea how far the news of Kirkwall's peril had travelled. She couldn't chance being spotted and captured. Hell, she didn't even know if she was being accused of anything. The idea was hopeful, but then she remembered Sebastian's face red with hurt and anger. She cringed at the thought, but sighed and cleared her mind. If she could just get close enough to the queen she could drop her guise, for Anders had said that she was a reasonable and caring woman. Surely she would understand their plight.
"Thank you, Meserre," she said, dipping in a small curtsy before walking back out into the waiting room.
As soon as she rounded the corner she slipped out of a side door leading in to the castle's gardens. If the queen's quarters had been up the stairs behind her assistant, then her window should be... that one! Hawke looked around her for a moment, making sure that no one would see her. In a split second she popped off her heels and slid the loops of leather over her wrist so she could hike her skirts and scale the stones of the wall. Improvisation. Hawke was rather good at it.
In a matter of moments, her head popped over the window sill and she glanced (to her great relief) in to the queen's quarters. At a large desk sat a woman with impressively long, ebony locks. Her small nose was wrinkled as she scrutinized her choice of words and her pouty pink lips were pulled down in to a scowl of concentration. She wore a full set of royal armor save for gloves and Hawke was reminded of Fenris who rarely took off a single piece of his armor for fear that Danarius would be lurking around the next corner, even after his former master had been slain by his own hand. In her hand was poised a quill and to her right a pot of ink was dwindling away under her extensive use.
All of that was fine and good, but there was a big problem, one that Hawke had not considered. The window was closed.
Feeling like a fool but seeing little choice she steadied herself on the sill with one elbow and tapped at the glass with her free hand. The queen startled, dropping her quill and cursing as ink slopped over the page she had been working on. Her sharp, powder blue eyes cut to the window sharply. Not sure what else to do as the queen looked ready to call for her guards, Hawke raised her hand, waving and flashing a weak smile.
The queen's eyes narrowed, but her eyebrow quirked in question. Pushing her chair out and approaching the window in a a few long strides, she looked down at Hawke, obviously deciding whether or not to open the window. She was truly an intimidating figure. Her armor gleamed in the sunlight, nearly blinding Hawke as she scrabbled to keep her grip on the sill. The Warden's gryphon was emblazoned across her breastplate, a dark blue standing in stark contrast to the nearly white silver of the surrounding metal.
"Excuse me, I hate to bother you, but I have a favor to ask of you. From an old friend," Hawke asked as politely and quietly as she could muster.
"I will unlatch this window and let you in, but know that if you try anything untoward you will make me quite cross," she said, flipping the latch on the window and swinging it open. "You've already made me spill ink on my missive."
"I'm very sorry, m'lady," Hawke said sincerely as she pulled herself into the window with a grunt. "If this matter wasn't so pressing I would have waited to speak with you at a time when you weren't so busy."
The queen seemed amused as the woman sprawled across the floor in her expensive green gown. Hawke picked herself off the floor, nearly ripping the hem of her dress in the process, and extended her hand, shoes still dangling from her wrist. "Hawke. Marian Hawke, at your service."
"Elissa Therrin," the queen replied, gripping Hawke's hand firmly, but cautiously. "Tell me, Hawke," the queen seemed to try the name on for size, "What is so important that you scaled my wall to tell me?"
"Ask you, actually," Hawke cleared her throat nervously. "Well, you see, m'lady-"
"Don't call me that. Just Elissa, if you will," the queen interrupted, swiping a long swath of bangs from her eyes.
"Yes, right. You see, Elissa, I am traveling with a mage. A Grey Warden mage. Anders."
The queen's pretty eyebrows crept up her forehead. "Are you now?"
"Yes," Hawke nodded. "And I'm looking for information. On a ritual actually. A ritual you performed."
"You're speaking of the incident of Connor, the Arl of Redcliffe's boy," the queen answered, already knowing where Hawke's story would lead.
"He has... merged with a spirit," Hawke finished.
The queen looked disappointed, her black locks swaying as she shook her head. "I knew something foul had taken place between Justice and Anders. I had received a report of their disappearance from my Seneschal in Amaranthine after Warden Commander Caron secured the keep when my duties in Denerim called," the queen said sadly, shaking her head. "Anders is a good man, albeit terrified of commitments and obligations."
She rounded her desk, assessing the damage done to her letter by the dropping of her quill. "Caron rules with an iron fist. I believe that Anders was looking for any way to get out of his duties to the Wardens and out of Caron's grasp. It is unfortunate for him that he will never truly be free of what he has become." The queen frowned at the page, "It didn't help that the bastard took away his cat. I gave it to him, you know?"
Hawke smiled politely at the queen's jest but continued nonetheless. "M'lady- Elissa... Is there a way to reverse the process?" Hawke begged.
Elissa seemed to consider her for a moment. "When I saved Arl Eamon's son, the boy had been possessed by a demon. What resides in Anders is a spirit. While they are similar in many ways, they are also very different," Elissa replied.
"I've seen a merging of spirit and body that has benefited both parties only once. I've seen joinings that were utterly detrimental to the human host and spirit many, manytimes," the queen shook her head again and her eyes lifted to look into Hawke's. "I do not mean to offend, but Anders is not pure enough to harbor a spirit. He is a soul merely wafting in the wind of this life, taking to one fancy after the next. Justice is so singular minded, as is the way of the spirits of the Fade. Neither he nor Justice ever stood a chance of creating a peaceful union."
"Do you think that there is any chance of this ritual working?" Hawke asked, her determination faltering in the stark truth of the queen's words.
"I do not know, Hawke, but for Anders' sake I shall try. I speak only the truth when I say that even the ritual with Connor was sheer happenstance. A million other outcomes could have come to pass as the events beyond the Veil were a vicious trial. I'm unsure as to what you would encounter in Anders' corner of the Fade."
Hawke swallowed. "If we are to try this, do you believe that there is there a way to save Justice as well? I don't know if Anders will part with him on any other terms."
"A spirit needs a host to thrive, but if I remember correctly from my studies they can be transferred to objectsas well. If you bring me an appropriate object for Justice to live in, a weapon, piece of armor, maybe? It may work. It may not. I have no way to know for certain.
"All I do know is that I will not transfer a spirit to a living host. Never. Justice will have to be happy with what he gets. It was his poor decisions that got him where he is now at any rate."
Hawke nodded in understanding and agreement. "I shall find something suitable. Is there anything else I'll need to do to prepare for the ritual?" Hawke asked, fingering the leather of her sandals worriedly.
"You will need to prepare yourself," Elissa replied simply. "As a mage I know you walk the Fade's halls frequently, but this will be unlike any trial you've faced before, I'm sure. You must find the strands of Anders and separate them from Justice, every strand."
Hawke steeled herself and nodded. "I have endured such trials in the past. For Anders I will do this."
Elissa gave her the saddest smile she had ever seen and Hawke found herself immensely confused because it felt as if the queen looked at her with pity. "I'll need to acquire the lyrium we will need and arrange a proper meeting place. I will contact you within the week. Where will you be staying?"
"The Gnawed Noble. We will stay as long as you need," Hawke bowed to the queen. "Thank you so much. Words cannot express how deeply our gratitude runs."
Elissa smiled lopsidedly and Hawke decided that she liked this woman very much. "Let's see if you'll be thanking me after the ritual."
Ending Notes: More action in the next chapter, I promise. =)