Left arm in a sling, Hawke stood despite her fatigue as the nobles around her argued. Books and parchment were scattered on the tables assembled in the hall, and they sat about them with drink and food. Dark circles under her eyes and hair cut short, she watched the quill of the young page she'd hired move in a flurry to take note of their words. Her eyes drifted to the high window her mother had once looked out.

"Please Serah Hawke, we must act before the city falls to pieces," the elderly man said. She forgot his name – he lived in the next district. He traded Antivan commodities.

"What do you propose we do?" she quietly said, tapping her thumb on the lip of her glass. Anders would be glaring if he saw her standing. "There are still bodies frozen in the streets, and the chantry is overwhelmed. Lowtown and the docks were heavily damaged from the explosions, and qunari still walk the streets. The mages only just finished extinguishing the fires in the warehouse district."

"There is word that the templars are marching," a younger man with auburn hair said.

The older man harrumphed and said, "The gangs have all but overrun the city, it is hardly safe. Between them and the qunari - hopefully Meredith will maintain order."

"I'll have you know, the city guard are doing just as much," Hawke snapped, prowling again. "But they are in dire need of supplies, a great deal was looted from the keep. Armour, weaponry, and healing. They have been working near non-stop to stem the chaos."

A low murmur went through those assembled. Hawke scoffed and turned away as they began arguing again. Orana was nearby, and came to refill her tea. She looked as she heard barking from the door, and none other than Aveline strode in. The nobles fell silent.

"I - I apologize, Hawke," Aveline said, straightening her posture. She was dirty, and there were creases on her face. "Though this no doubt concerns you all."

"Oh? Was there a run on Orlesian silk?" Hawke murmured, cringing as she moved. The young man smirked.

"Oh, if only it were so meaningless," Aveline chuckled darkly, producing the writ. "Knight-Commander Meredith has declared marshal law and barricaded the viscount's chambers. The templars fill the streets, and she's requested reinforcements from Starkhaven."

There were quiet murmurs through the room, and Hawke snatched the parchment from Aveline.

"A curfew," Hawke sneered. "What does she think we are, children?"

"Apparently," Aveline said, exhaling sharply. She shook her head. "I have heard much worse."

"She - she's taking over the city," the young man said, standing to take Hawke's side. "On what authority?"

"The Dumar bloodline is dead," a matriarch at the far end of the table said. "Who is there to stop her?"

"It is best you all return to your respective homes," Aveline said in her captain's voice. "The day is waning, and I am not certain to what extremes the Commander will go."

In short time, Orana had helped the nobles don their winter coats and go, gathering the glasses and plates to disappear into the servant's quarters. Hawke tossed the writ on the table, cringing again and cradling her arm.

"What are you even doing up and about?" Aveline said with a sigh, helping her down into a chair.

"Well you know how it goes," Hawke looked up to her. "Take a break and the world might end without you."

Aveline scoffed, "I doubt that."

"Then you'll get some rest tonight? Didn't think so."

Aveline sunk into one of the chairs beside her, taking the ewer of ale and drinking straight from it. Closing her eyes, she sighed heavily, wiping her mouth, "That pompous edict isn't the half of it. Maker, I wish it were." Hawke raised her brow. "They've been rounding up apostates who helped fight the qunari - who saved the city from burning. Half a dozen have already been taken to the Gallows."

"Fuck," Hawke said, pulling up to go for the chest by the fire.

"Hawke, what do you think you're doing?"

"Someone has to look out for Anders."

"I can't look out for myself?" he said from the doorway, nudged out of the way as her mabari pushed past him.

Hawke's expression softened, and she dropped her free hand to pet the hound, "If I'd known I could just say fetch, I would have asked you to long ago, your grace."

Aveline was on her feet by Anders as she said, "Maybe she'll listen to you." The guard-captain hesitated, before glancing down, "Thank you for your help with the men."

"It's what I do," Anders said, before turning his eyes.

Hawke was standing by the fire, trying to look innocent. She put the satchel of flasks back in the chest as she said, "I didn't leave the house?"

"Hmm," he said, walking close. "Time for a check up."

"No," Hawke sighed, scraping her cheek along the stubble on his chin. When he tried to pull away, she caught him with her good arm. "Fine, but only if you kiss me."

There was a soft wuff and a paw on the door, and Anders sighed, "No, you know I don't like you in here when I'm working."

His grace whimpered a bit more, and there was silence before the scratch of his claws dragged down the library door.

"You're going to scratch it, and I'll tell Marian it was you," Anders said, turning the page of the book he read. Dabbing his quill in the lyrium ink, he made a quick annotation in his journal. There was a soft wuff. "She won't think it's me, you know."

Anders tried to continue working, and there was more whimpering, pawing and scratching, followed by another plaintiff woof. He put down his quill with a sigh and got up, "You don't even like me. I'm not going to play with you." He opened the door and returned to the desk without a thought.

Though he sat writing for a minute or two, Anders could see the mabari in his periphery, blocking some of the light from the fire. He was far too quiet and still. The quill scratched the parchment a minute more, when there was a muffled wuff.

"What, your grace?" Anders sighed, rubbing his forehead as he looked down at the hound.

The mabari was looking up at him, a small tabby dangling from his mouth by the scruff of its neck. When he realized Anders was looking, he walked forward and put the cat in his lap.

Sitting with his jaw hanging half open, Anders finally said, "Where - a cat?"

The mabari huffed slightly and seemed to roll his eyes, as though the answer were obvious. The cat shook to unruffled its fur, before turning to walk onto the desk. Anders stopped it right before it went across the wet ink, and it mewed as he picked it up.

"Did Marian put you up to this?" Anders said, peering down at the dog as he cradled the cat to his chest. It purred and nuzzled into the feathers on his shoulder, readily swatting and chewing them. He almost laughed as the dog huffed again and shook his head, sitting down. "What, you expect me to believe you found it?"

Tongue lolling out, the mabari barked and stood back up, wagging its stub of a tail.

Anders scratched over the cat's back, warily watching the dog as he almost laughed, "You got me a cat."

The hound barked again a few times, leaning forward to nudge Anders knee, and the mage ruffled and rubbed his ears in reply.

"Alright, alright, but no drooling." Anders laughed, patting both animals now. The hound turned his eyes up. "Don't push your luck."

"What is all the racket," Hawke called from the main hall, and she appeared in the door. "Are you torturing his grace again?" She kneeled down as the mabari ran over, hugging it and rough housing with him a bit, "I'll save you from the mean abomination." She stood up as the mabari pranced back towards Anders, barking happily, "And what's this?"

"A cat," Anders said under his breath, catching it as it went for his papers again. "I think your dog got it for me." The mabari barked, sitting at his feet and looking to Hawke for approval.

"Did you now? Are you going to look after it?" Hawke put her hands on her hips, looking down at the dog. The mabari grumbled dubiously, leaning back into Anders' legs. She smirked and looked at him. "Will you?"

"Of course I will," he said, cringing a smile as the cat kneaded him with its claws. He rubbed and plied the tabby's neck, eliciting a purr.

"I'll hold you to that," Hawke replied, before clicking and patting her thigh. "Come on, your grace. Let's leave the two lovebirds." She paused in the doorway and looked back, "And so help me, if I find fur on my pillow."

As she left with the mabari in tow, Anders murmured, "How come I never got to say that?"