Hawke stiffly walked down the steps of the Gallows, arm around her mother's shoulders as she led them through the winter air – though it was warmer than a Ferelden spring. It was half a year since she had made it back from the Deep Roads expedition – half a year since her sister had become a prisoner.

"It never lessens the pain," Leandra softly said, pulling the scarf on her hair forward. "No matter what she says."

"She is doing well," Hawke said, swallowing her emotion. "It seems she is very well respected amongst her peers. She is helping a great number of children."

"I know, dear," Leandra said, stepping free of Hawke's arm as they walked through the square. "But she could have been so much more."

"She still could be," Hawke casually said, "Let's just hope not while the templars are watching."

Leandra stopped and looked skyward, wiping her eyes with a small pink handkerchief, "Please, Marian. Not now."

Hawke looked down, rocking on her heels as they stood in silence. "We should go to the docks for the mid-day ferry."

Walking towards the gate, Varric joined them in stride, "I thought I might find you here."

"Varric," Leandra said, "What a surprise."

"Indeed, a surprise," Hawke peered at him as they slowed, casually taking the steps down to the dock. "I haven't seen you around lately."

"I've been busy plying my trade," Varric replied, fishing a pouch from his coat. He handed it to Leandra. "I found a buyer for the necklace."

"Certainly it did not fetch this much," she replied, raising her brow.

"No, no," Varric chuckled, "I wouldn't dream of not taking my share."

Hawke grinned and nodded as the dwarf produced the coin for their passage into the city, "Of course not, what sort of merchant would you be then?"

"A broke one," Varric said, and they went and sat in the bow of the small caravel. "But that isn't the real reason I came to meet you here. I intercepted a messenger on the way to your Lowtown estate."

"Really Varric," Leandra softly laughed, sniffing in and looking into the breeze. "Your sense of humour is almost worse than Marian's at times."

"I kid you not madam!" Varric said, grinning widely as he produced the letter.

Hawke took it, and with one glance broke the seal. "It's from the viscount… he's granting us the estate!"

"Blessed Andraste," Leandra looked back as her daughter laid the letter in her hands. She cupped her mouth, shaking her head, "And we've the coin to keep it. I hoped but… if only Bethany and Carver were here."

Hawke lingered by the doorway as her mother lead into the room. Leandra took Viscount Dumar's extended hand, stooping to kiss the back of it in allegiance.

"Mistress Amell, it is good of you to come," he said with a thin smile.

"It is my pleasure, my lord," Leandra bowed her head, smiling at him. "I wanted to thank you in person for granting my family our estate once more."

"The Amells have always had a home at my family's side," Viscount Dumar replied, walking back along the windows of his office. "If I had known sooner such ill-bred sorts were inhabiting the mansion, I would have acted."

"Thank you, milord," Leandra replied, turning to Hawke. "I wished to present you with my daughter, Marian Hawke."

"Hawke, mm?" The Viscount arched his brow as Hawke advanced forward and properly bowed.

"I have chosen to keep my father's name," Hawke replied, standing once more. "Saves me the trouble of re-stitching it in all my underwear."

"Marian!" Leandra said, paling as she turned to Dumar. She smiled none the less with a soft laughter, "She has quite the spirit and sense of humour. Another remnant from her father."

"Indeed," Dumar said, watching Hawke. "You look familiar."

"It was I who recovered your son Saemus from the Wounded Coast last year," Hawke inclined.

The viscount's brow drew together in consternation as he said, "And I thank you for your discretion. He is… a troubled young man. But hopefully he will be fit to rule in my place some day."

"I have no doubt of it, serah," Hawke replied with a slight grin. "A pleasure making your acquaintance."

"But I digress," the viscount sighed, "We must meet with Seneschal Bran after our repast to discuss some legal matters."

"I will…" Hawke's words fell away as Leandra and Viscount Dumar led into an ancillary room, and she was left standing there. "Lovely." She turned back out into the foyer, almost running into the seneschal.

"You?" Bran asked, tugging down the front of his tunic.

"Yes, me," Hawke said with a wry smile. "Doesn't it simply make your day?"

"What are you doing within the Keep?"

"And here I imagined you to be a man who kept on top of things," Hawke ran a finger over her lips as her voice dropped, "Or is that just at the Blooming Rose?"

"How dare you," Bran said, his cheeks flushing as he looked around. "I should have you thrown out."

"Messere, I am truly shocked," Hawke said, trying not to smile. "Or have you not heard the Amells have regained their place in this fine city-state? I am Mistress Amell's eldest daughter, Marian Hawke."

Glancing towards the viscount's offices, Bran smoothed his fine tunic once more, his eyes hard, "The apple certainly fell far from the tree."

"My poor delicate disposition," Hawke sniffled and turned away, ignoring the nobles whose heads turned she walked. She tossed her hair in disdain, "His lordships shall be hearing of this."

Across the large foyer, Hawke caught sight of Aveline with a trio of guards and hurried over. The initiate guard-captain was staring at her.

"Aveline, what a pleasant surprise!" Hawke said, smiling as she clasped her hands behind her.

"Dismissed," Aveline said, turning to her. "Not even moved in, and you're already turning things over."

"It's like a field, really," Hawke sighed a smile. "You need to till it good every now and then to get rid of the weeds."