My beta is currently on vacation, and I have been sitting on this chapter for far too long. This is the raw version, pardon the weird grammar structures and annoying words.

This is why I love my beta so much, and even though she's on vacation, she had given me so many ideas to write with.

Betas are golden, I'm telling you XD

This chapter basically outline some of Isabela's hunt for the relic, and since it's Fenris, the Magisters have to be involve. Nothing goes in the order they are supposed to be in the next few chapters, sorry for the confusion. I'll try to sum it up in the chapter so you nice readers won't get lost.

Also, I got a picture for Varric and the Arishok, by the wonderful Nazgullow: rndragonsheart dot deviantart dot com /art/Varric-s-Advice-420700743

Everything belongs to Bioware/EA, except my Hawke's weirdness.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! WHOOOOOHOOOOO XD

Update: This is the final version on what we have so far :)

Hawke blew out a breath, pacing in front of the hearth. After the discussion with Varric and Isabella, she had opted to give the news to Fenris straight away instead of him finding it out later on. Unfortunately, Fenris was not at home when she arrived. She decided to wait for him, and take the advantage of the creepy quietness of the mansion to do a little thinking, to run over the plan in her head, making sure to choose the options that is the least dangerous to her friends.

Bored of pacing, Hawke stacked several logs into the hearth, then made a fire; once that was done, she pulled up a chair near the fire, then stared absently out to the setting sky, her thoughts wandered in the direction of the Arishok. What would he say when she returned to him with the plan that included Isabella? He might have left the issue alone for now, but what will happen once the relic is recovered? The subject of the theft is bound to come up. What would the Arishok do to Isabella?

Feeling restless, Hawke stood up and started to pace again; her thoughts running in different directions, each with different scenarios arise to challenge her solutions. She couldn't just ask the Arishok to be satisfied with the return of the relic; she doubted he'd let her deal with Isabella and there was no way she would let him take Isabella away. The two would certainly butt heads on that topic.

Hawke ran a hand through her hair, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, imagining a fight for Isabella on hand, wondering what would be the right thing to do that would satisfy both sides. Already she could tell that it won't turn out well if the Arishok has his way.

"Hawke." Fenris' voice cut through her thoughts, and Hawke turned to see the elf approaching her.

"Ah, Fenris, I was waiting for you." She smiled, watching as he took a seat on one of the chairs, then took her own seat next to him. "I have something to tell you."

"This is not about the Qunari again, is it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Partly, but it's not the Arishok, it's about the relic. Isabella told me it is a book from Kos...Koslun, or some such."

"The Tome of Koslun?" Fenris was surprised. "It's the sacred book of the Qunari. Though I heard that it was lost?"

"The book was taken by the Antivan during some Exalted Marches, but they were going to return it to the Qunari."

"Ah, so the thief took it during the exchange?" Fenris shook his head. "She is as suicidal as you are."

"That's not all, Fenris." Hawke grimaced. "She said that she took the book before it could be return to the Arishok, but the Qunari weren't the only ones after the book. Isabella said she saw some Tevinter mages sneaking onto the ship, too, and that there had been rumors of them going after the book the past few years."

"Venhedis!" Fenris snarled, slamming his fist onto the table. "You're telling me that the Magisters are lurking around all these years? Why was I not told!?"

"I just found that out an hour ago."

"What else?" He asked, his tone harsh as he glared at Hawke. "What else are you keeping from me?"

"Not a damn thing." Hawke shot back. "I had thought you'd want to know, which is why I came as soon as I could."

"The dwarf might know something else."

Hawke frowned, crossing her arms. "He might know how to explore our lead, but I doubt he know anything else."

"Any lead is better than none. I need to find the Magisters."

"They're not going to just hand Danarius to you, you know."

"If it's a fight they want, a fight they'll get." He growled, walking briskly toward the manor's entrance.

"I hope you're not excluding me on this." She narrowed her eyes, joining him as he continue down the stairs. "And you know Varric will be pissed if you don't let him show off his connections."

He shot her a grateful half-smile, and headed out the door.

xxxxxxxxx

"You are taking this better than I thought." Varric stared at the elf over the mug of fresh brew. "I would have thought you'd be out the door chasing after the Magisters."

"That's still his goal." Hawke laughs when Fenris did not reply, lost in his own thoughts. "Though I'm here to prevent any unnecessary chasing; however, he is right. The Magisters might have a better idea of where the relic is, considering that it would give them advantage over the Qunari."

"I can dig around, see if we have any serious inquiries. Though I wonder how can one book disappeared for this long without anyone the wiser."

"You are not the only one with a network underground, Varric." Isabella raised an eyebrow. "I've been searching for it all these years, and I kept tabs on the port. So far, nothing has turn up, and my guess is that the book is still in Kirkwall. Whose hands it's in is a mystery."

"Really, Isabella, a book bested you?" Hawke shook her head with a smirk. She is still miffed, but the indignation of the pirate is hilarious.

"It's a very shiny book, with gems and all." Isabella defended herself.

"Oh Maker." Hawke sighed, putting her face in her palms, only to peek between the fingers at Fenris, seeking input. "Fenris, you're being quiet there."

"Brooding, no doubt." Isabella snickered. "Have you figured a way to go about your revenge business yet?"

Fenris shot a glare her way, still smarting over the fact that Isabella kept this whole thing quiet for so long. "My business if none of your concern."

"You do have a plan, don't you?" Isabella persisted. "I'm all for getting the relic back, but unless we come up with something, it's just as good as hitting on a Chantry brother."

"You're telling me you haven't come up with a plan?" Hawke raised an eyebrow. "You've been busy tracking down the book and haven't thought how to actually get it?"

"I don't care much for details." The Pirate pouted. "The way I see it: one, get the relic; two, something exciting happens; three, profit. What else is there to know?"

"I need more sleep." Hawke ran a hand over her face, groaning in frustration. "What about that old friend of yours, Castillon? Did you know how I can get in contact with him?"

"I rather not."

"Isabella!" Hawke growled.

"What? I've been covering my tracks for so long. I'd rather him not finding out exactly where I am."

"We can't move forward, unless you want me not dispose of Castillon."

"How about we just find the relic, then worry about Castillon later?" The Pirate asked with a straight face.

Hawke and Varric both stared at the woman, then look at each other, then back at her. "You're hiding something." They said to her.

"I'm hiding me." Isabella glared. "I've come too far to endanger myself now."

"You've been in a lot of fights since we know you," Hawke pointed out. "What changes now?"

"I have my reasons."

"Let's hear them then." Hawke fought down the urge to start cursing at the pirate. Her anger is such that once a screaming match begin, it might took them awhile; she rather just get this over with. Being angry is exhausting business, Hawke sigh, rubbing her temple.

"Look, Hawke. If I don't do this, my life will be over. He can find a hundred way to torture me and more. Either help me, or don't."

"Don't make it sound like the end of the world." Hawke frowned, but kept her voice even. "I did say I'll get rid of him, didn't I? What are you worrying about?"

"There are things you better off not knowing, sweetie." Isabella laughs, pinching Hawke's cheeks. "You're pouting."

Hawke pulled her head away, and glare at the woman. "It's getting on my nerves, Isabella."

"We should find the Magisters." Fenris spoke up finally.

"That should be easy." Varric chimed in. "Just find mutilated bodies and we should find them. They're pretty predictable."

"That's the plan then." Isabella said cheerfully. "Those shouldn't be hard to find, and blood magic….has a distinct way of making it's mark."

"Now to just follow the blood trails." Fenris said bitterly.

xxxxxxxx

"So that is our plan." She said with a bright smile, undisturbed by the Arishok's lack of expression.

When she got to the compound, a Karasten had escorted her straight to the Arishok's tent, where he was nesting amidst the cushions and writing something down. Seeing her, he put the papers aside and listened as she told him every detail of the plan.

"Magic." He said, a displeased expression on his face. "How long until you are to carry out your plan?"

"Isabella is making inquiries and Fenris is prowling the undercity as we speak."

"Then we need to make preparations. My scouts-"

"Wait a minute, you want your men on this mission?" She raised an eyebrow.

"And you have a reason for them not to be?"

"They're huge, for instant, and would draw attention."

"They are skilled in blending in."

"Horned men with grey skin and bright red paint?"

He only snorted.

"Hmm." She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward on the table. "You want your men to go with me? Why?"

"Are you really asking for an answer, or do you just want to hear yourself talk?" He asked, leveling a look at her.

"It's a legitimate question."

"One that already has an obvious answer."

"Only if you don't trust me to get the relic back." She said cheerfully, slumping down on the table. It was rather well made, with its carvings around the edges, but the flat surfaced was sanded down and painted over with a rather fragrant layer of dark paint. It smelled faintly of sandalwood, but had a slight orange tinge to it. Hawke traced the carvings absentmindedly, wondering about the Qunari's artistic side. She smile a little, feeling more intrigue by the display of fine taste. She had wondered if there is more to the Qunari that killing things, and little things like this is her answer. I'd like to see how they make these, she pursed her lips, picturing a giant wielding carving tools, painstakingly chiseled out every little detail. With all that discipline they seems to possessed at birth, patient must be equally important in their teachings. Maker knows I needed to learn that, she sighed. After a moment, she stopped, then look at him sideways. "I did said I'll get it back for you, and I will."

"That does not mean I will leave the entire process to you. It is an important item for my people, therefore, we will participate in retaking it."

"How would you even do such a thing?" She laughs, picturing the Qunari crouching behind the a cover, being quiet; if they could find a cover that big, but how would they even blend into the shadow? She had experience an Ashaad being fast on his heels, and moving with effectiveness, but playing dead or hanging onto a wall? Not likely. Force seems to be their main strength, and that's not how she want to do this. "I can just see a Tevinter Magister meekly handing your people the book."

"You have been dealing in the dark too much." He said, picking up a book by his side and hold it out to her. "There are other ways to acquire cooperation."

She sat up, taking the book and tried to read the title, but found it was in another language. Curious, she opened the book, to see more of the language she cannot read, but there are scribblings on the side of the pages, translating the passages.

"The Art of Persuasion." She read, then laughs. "Your people have this kind of things?"

"We treat people equally, provided they deserve the respect. Not all minds are alike, and must work together to accomplish greater good."

She purse her lips, perusing few pages. The scripture was rather good, and the few paragraphs she read emphasized the importance of understanding the subject to be persuade. He watched her flipping several pages before speaking again.

"My men will watch for new arrivals, and they will join your group when your friend find a lead."

"Hold on." She closed the book. "We have planned this in great details, and agreed that fewer people would be best to sneak in, get Isabella, and follow the trail of the book. Having more people now would just be in the way."

"The Antaam will not hinder you, but they will lend aid when the battle begins."

"A battle? Aren't you worrying a little over much? A small fight, maybe, but it need not involve civilians."

"The Antaam are not civilians."

"I don't mean them, I mean the people who will be eyewitness to this. With my small group, we can blend in and quickly dispersed. How do you expect me to explain a group of Qunari? If you are not careful, people will think you are trying to take over the city."

"Our objective is the Tome, not the people."

"Pardon me, but the citizens will not be able to tell Castillon's men from their neighbors, and watching Qunari fighting anyone else except your own people would incite panic."

"Saarebas should not be taken lightly." He flicked his head, his earrings tingling in response to the movement. "Do not take on more than you can handle."

"I'm not trying to do everything by myself, I have people. Three, to be exact, whom will be making a quick run rather than wading through half of the city's citizen." Unbiddingly, a picture of three Ashaad trying to move across the room full of people came into her head. Yep, not going to work.

"Hm." He put his elbow on the table and interlaced his fingers. "You still want to protect the people of this city."

"Of course I do, they're people." She replied with a confused expression, as if it did not occurred to her that she could choose other options.

They were interrupted by a Qunari entering the tent carrying a small pot and two cups. He set it down on the table in front of her, then left in the same silent way he came.

"The people of this city are blind." He commented, picking up the pot and pour the liquid into a cup. A strong fragrance waffed up, but Hawke could not make head or tail of the smell; however, it's rather pleasant. "The rulers are weaklings, and yet you defend them."

"I'm not defending their actions, but their lives are worth protecting, don't you think?"

"No. They do nothing while their people wallow in misery. They lie to the people, and to themselves."

"Aren't you just a ball of negativity." Hawke frowned, taking his cue and reached over for the small pot and pulled the remaining cup closer to her. She pour herself a cup of whatever in the pot and sat back down, sipping the hot liquid, studying him over the rim of the cup. The liquid tasted a little bitter, and left a mellow aftertaste; the burst of many subtle flavor surprised her, and she blinked, trying to figure out what it is.

"Your equivalent of this would be tea." The Arishok noticed, and a corner of his lips lifted up. "Though this is a more condensed mixture than what you're probably used to."

"I haven't much experience with tea, to be honest. Mother does make tea, but it's not like this, then it's either plain water, or liquor; but I can't be sure what they sell in the Hanged Man is real liquor." She said absently, looking at the greenish, steaming liquid. "What's in this?"

"Leaves of different herbal plants, grinded then boiled in water." He took a sip, still watching her. "It provides various medicinal benefits."

"What kind of benefits?" She asked, a little alarmed when he said 'herbal' and 'medicinal'. "This isn't some sort of thing that help with male virility, is it?"

The Arishok chest's shook, and Hawke realized the gravelly, boulder-clashing noise was actually his laugh. For a moment, she was transfixed by the open display of emotions, then she blinked, realizing she was staring. She wasn't sure what had cause him to be on a familiar level, but she was pleased that he doesn't mind showing her the other aspects of him. She hope there will be more friendly interactions such as this.

"Our people need no such thing." He put the half-empty cup down and fill it back up. "And we do not give guests things that are not intended for them."

"I'm glad. I don't think I need more stimulation." She winked at him, but when her words met silence stare, she shrugged, getting back to the matter at hand. "Anyhow, you haven't have much experience in dealing with pleasant people, have you? You really can't find any good thing about us outsiders at all?"

"I see them as they are, not what they pretend to be." He, too, studied her expressions. "They say one thing, but often mean another, masking their true intentions with a smile and false words."

"Is that why I haven't seen any of you smile?" She raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I bet telling the truth all the time makes you grumpy."

Suddenly, her overactive mind flooded with images of him as a child, unchanging, and always frowning. "Have you always been like this?" She asked. "Even when you were a child? Surely you laughed sometimes?" Her question met with a blank stare, and she blinked in disbelief. "Really? No getting in trouble with the adults? No sneaking snacks before meals? Didn't you even have a pet to play with?"

"You are like a child." He snorted. "Changing your attention from one thing to the next. No focus."

"I can focus." She said defensively, and cleared her throat before restarting the explanation. "With my fighting style, I have to pay attention to many things at once. Picking up on smaller details means I can know more about the situation; the more I know, the better I can make an informed decision."

"Then why do you continue to do things against your nature?"

She cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"Persisting in siding with thieves, letting the weak continue to be weak, doing biddings of worthless nobles. You can do better." He folded his hands on the table, waiting for her answer.

"I like helping people."

"Helping does not mean do everything for them."

"I don't. I just help when I can."

"You skirt with danger without knowing who to help and who you should not waste energy for." He grunted. "You need to learn to distinguish one from another."

"What would you have me do? Would you refuse your people help when they need it."

"My people can work for what they need, and they will not accept unwarranted charity."

Hawke closed her eyes and take in a deep breath. "Talking with you is like talking to a wall. I don't know why -"

"You know the way of your people, and you still prefer to waste your talents in this pit of filth."

"Yes, well, not every soul here is as rotten as you think."

He grunted.

"I will change your mind, one way or another."

"I shall show you a better way to live. Gather what you need, we will make a place for you here."

"You mean for me to live in the compound? Wouldn't that be a bother?" She blinked, wondering if she had misheard him.

"You know yourself, and that is good." The Arishok said with amusement in his eyes. "Are you protesting because your quarters might not be to your liking? Are you too used to luxuries?"

Hawke glared at the Arishok. "I am not a wuss, if that's what you mean. I had sleep on the ground before."

"Then you have no objection?"

"Of course I have objections-"

"I thought as much." The Arishok grunted. "Since you are indeed a guest, I shall concede in providing appropriate comforts. You can share my quarters, but if you required more, you will have to do without."

Hawke was silence for a moment, not completely comprehended the Arishok's words. When he saw that she had not spoke, he stood up and walk around the table, heading for the tent's opening. Hawke spurred into action, jumping up and caught his forearm; he paused, turning his head to look down at her.

"You can't just decide everything on your own." She huffed. "My objections was not about silk blankets. I can't just move into the compound, my mother would think that you took me hostage-"

"You can assure her that you are free to move inside the compound and out." He said, watching different emotions flitted across her face. "You are to be a guest here, not a prisoner. However, I am to be inform whence and where of your destinations."

"Wait, what? My destinations?" She raised an eyebrow. "That does sounds like a prison to me, I won't agree to it."

"You were the one to volunteer for the retrieval of the relic-"

"I agreed to help, not to be locked up. And before you say otherwise, let me tell you the definition of it: being kept, being watched all the time, and my jailers are 'inform of whence and where of my destinations'. I don't know about you, but what you offered spelled 'hostage' in very big letters for me."

"You will be a guest." He began, but Hawke pulled away.

"Guests solicits invitation, Arishok, one that they can accept or refuse. This is not an invitation, as far as I'm concerned." She said over her shoulder as she started to walk out. It was the Arishok's hand on her shoulder that stopped her.

"You want to learn of our ways, I am making accommodations for that wish."

"I appreciate it, but I don't like being cornered into a tight situation. You and Isabella had put me into one recently, and I'm not letting either of you do so again." She shrugged off his hand and left.

xxxxxxxxx

Varric stared up at the quiet giant warlord, his mind running off on thousands of possibilities about why the Qunari had summon him here. Half of those possibilities are not pleasant. He was in the tavern, speaking with Corff when big shadows appeared, and the whole tavern was silence, even Corff stood stiffly and not saying a word. Varric had turned his head and almost jumped out of his skin when two fully-armored Qunari ducked into the tavern, their head turning around to look for him. Once they saw him standing at the bar, they walk toward him, and uttered four words: "The Arishok summons you."

And here he is, at the place where he and Hawke had met the Arishok, standing in front of the intricately carved bench, looking way up at the Arishok, feeling extremely small amongst the huge people.

"So, what can I do for you?" He started, preferring to get things over with. If the Arishok want him drawn and quarter, he doesn't want to linger long. Silently, he listed things he should have done, said farewell to future novels that would not be publish, and take stock of the Qunari's positions and plan his attacks.

"You are close to Hawke." The Arishok stated, making Varric pause in his mental checklist. "She had spoke of you with high regards."

"Ah." Varric blinked, unsure of why the Arishok...Ah! "You want to know about Hawke? What aspect?"

"She is stubborn, and will not see reason."

"That sounds right, but that's a statement, not a question."

"She wanted to learn, and I have offered her a place to stay, to study the way of the Qun. She refused. What is your opinion of that?"

"Hawke refuses to study your people? That's strange." Varric scratched his chin, looking thoughtful. "What did you say to her, exactly?"

"I have offered her a place to stay here and learn from my soldiers."

"Then I don't see how she could have said no-"

The Arishok just stared at the dwarf.

"Hmm, I might have to ask for your exact phrasing. Sometimes words don't carry out its meaning as it should be."

Begrudgingly, the Arishok related the scene to Varric, and the dwarf had a hard time not to laugh out loud. "You are not going about it correctly." Varric cleared his throat, sensing the agitation in the Arishok, but not feeling threatened. Rather, it is starting to feel similar to how he deals with Hawke. "She has a strong will, as you well know; her pride will not let her be force into being kept against her wish."

"I had made it clear that she is free to come and go as she pleases." The Arishok frowned.

"From what I heard, it was an order, not an invitation." Varric snorted, feeling more comfortable speaking to the warlord by the minute. Strange, really, because the Qunari had not made any concession toward the outsiders, so the Arishok's inquiry about Hawke is revealing more about her effects on them than they let on. "And if it's anything like the, eh, invitation I received, I think I understand her reluctance."

The Arishok said nothing, staring at Varric. Suddenly, the dwarf feel like a rabbit under the gaze of a predator. How does he do that? Varric wonder, not moving a muscle. The sudden shift in attitude was rather alarming, and he was curious as to how Hawke had bear so much interaction with the giants. But really, being able to intimidate someone with just a look is an amazing skill. Varric cleared his throat again. "Perhaps you should try asking if she would want to stay at the compound?"

"Very well." The Arishok nodded. "If it would acquire her cooperation, so be it."

"Also, listing the pros and cons in the arrangement would help. Hawke is not entirely unreasonable, and she would appreciate knowing if she can take the risk."

"You have experience manipulating Hawke, dwarf." The Arishok grunted.

Varric paused, wondering if the Arishok meant it in a positive or negative light. Well, doesn't matter, it is what it is. "It come with the territory of knowing people."

The Arishok's glare told him what he thought of that sentence, of him. Which is not a whole lot.

"I could tell you a few more things about her, if you like." Varric offered.

The Arishok lean forward, putting his elbows on his knees and watch Varric. The dwarf took that as a cue to proceed, and - in his enthusiastic manner when it comes to spinning stories, Varric regaled the Arishok with some tidbits from Hawke's past, and a few tales of Hawke's adventures; he ended it with the story of how they made it through the Deep Roads - impromptu dances, jokes, and a lot of running and fighting. Throughout it all, the Arishok did not displayed any surprise, nor shown much of any expression, really; however, a corner of his lips did stay curled up for a while, and he gave the storyteller dwarf his undivided attention. That counts for something, the dwarf smiled when he's finished the latest story.

"She had a rather large interest in the on-goings of her surrounding, so that's why she wouldn't like to think she's being hinder." Varric said. "Lure her with knowledge, and let her work the other things out on her own. Also, if you want to know more about non-Qunari's behaviors, I do have a few books that could help."

"Panahedan, dwarf. I shall put your help to good use." With a flick of his hand, the Arishok dismissed Varric.

"I shall send the books over as soon as I can." Varric said, then left. He did not realize what he have done until he was halfway back to the Hanged Man.

Ancestors, did I just hand Hawke over to the Qunari?