A/N
I meant to get in more interesting things in this chapter such as Sebastian's second mission but, well, I got carried away. Isabela is sort of fun to mess around with. Chapter title taken from "Healing Begins" by Tenth Avenue North.
It was a year later before Hawke and Sebastian happened to cross paths again. It would be a lie to say that it happened by accident and the Prince did not intend for it. Rather, he sought Hawke out, asked anyone who would listen to know the whereabouts of the man who had been so valiant as to come to Sebastian's aid, in hopes that he might do so again. He looked first in Lowtown, bow on his back and arrows sharpened, just in case. He had been to the slums of Kirkwall before and returned unscathed, but it had always been with the sun at its apex and another sworn to the Chantry at his side.
He caught the sight of a sign swaying in the light breeze, light piercing into the night despite the grubbiness of the windows. A crude, macabre statue strung up on a noose hung above the door, the sign swinging lazily beneath declaring the bar to be, aptly named, 'The Hanged Man'. Not exactly a place Sebastian would have liked to enter, under any circumstances, but he pushed the door open none the less. His mind refused to let go of this man – had refused for months on end – and, he was forced to admit, his own pride and selfishness urged him to seek Hawke. There were few that would do such kindness without expecting a reward – The Viscount himself refused to back Sebastian's claim for his throne without proof of a definite profit – and Sebastian thought it would be a rare person indeed who would do so twice. Yet, there had been something in Hawke's eyes – those warm, kind eyes – and the small, earnest smile he had worn that convinced the Prince that Hawke was one such rare man.
The interior was not quite what he expected. Crowded, of course, but without the din and ruckus he prepared himself for. Before the Chantry he had frequented places much worse than this often, sternly vowed to never enter such a place again, but he was desperate and Hawke... Hawke was worth the risk of such temptations.
The barkeep stood half-heartedly wiping out the inside of a tankard as Sebastian approached. He drew a few stares, an odd sight to behold in his immaculate armour pristine and reflecting the dim light of the flickering lanterns of the establishment, and the barkeep himself took on the facial expression of a gaping goldfish at the sight of the Prince before him. "M'lord." He muttered, dumbfounded, clumsily dropping the tankard in his hand in a rush to scrounge up gold from a man who actually looked able to pay it. "What can I get for you – that is, what is it I may do for you?"
Sebastian could not help but smile ruefully at the man's hopeful tone and his attempt at propriety, shaking his head. "Only information, I'm afraid." The barman's face soured at that, but Sebastian proceeded despite it. "I'm looking for someone. A tall man, fair of skin and black of hair. Last I met him, he went by the name of Hawke."
As soon as the name left his mouth, he saw recognition alight in the barkeep's eyes, then fear as he glanced just over Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian followed his line of sight to the table that he had just passed, unsure of what it was he had been expecting, but certainly, it had not been a dwarf glaring at Sebastian as if he might force him to drop dead with a stare. "Hawke? Why? What do you want with him?" The dwarf grumbled, like a faithful guard dog raised on its haunches ready to strike.
A high-pitched laugh sounded from the same table and both Sebastian and the dwarf turned to look at the cause of the disturbance. Honey eyes glittered with amusement and dark lips pulled up into a smirk as the woman next to the dwarf eyed the Prince up and down. "Don't mind him Varric, Hawke's safe from him." She winked, causing heat to flush to Sebastian's cheeks as she rose, hips swinging seductively seemingly with no effort. "Though, considering who this handsome fellow is, and considering what a sucker our boy Hawke is for a pretty face, I can't say it won't lead to danger." She placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, a gesture far too familiar for his comfort. Not to mention her words embarrassed him beyond belief with their suggestive purr.
It took him but a moment to place her, and he blushed all the more for not recognising her sooner. "You were one of his companions then. Apologies, I-I didn't recognise you at first." The Rivaini only chuckled in response to his stumbling apology, dipping in to kiss his burning cheek.
"Don't mind it, sweet." She pulled back with a Cheshire grin stretching her cheeks, taking as much pleasure out of Sebastian's discomfort as she could, he was sure. The dwarf – Varric, it seemed – still looked between the two of them questioningly, though the distrust seemed to have dissipated, replaced by mere curiosity.
Sebastian cleared his throat, edging away from the Rivaini and turning his full attention to Varric. "I am Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven. The reason I am trying to find your friend is... well... I need his help. He aided me once before and I... I am in the uncomfortable position of having to request it again, but I could not think of where else to turn." He looked imploringly at Varric and the woman, the former stone-faced and the latter standing with a sculpted eyebrow raised in bewildered amusement.
Until the dwarf burst out laughing.
Sebastian stood aghast for a few minutes, feeling all the while foolish for attempting to appeal to the better nature of a dwarf – with more hair on his chest than Sebastian wagered he had ever seen on any other dwarf's chin – and a woman who had the look of a mercenary or pirate or other vagabond about her. At last, Varric seemed to catch himself and shook his head, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye. "No need to be so formal, Choir Boy," Sebastian could not help but bristle at the strange nickname, but held his tongue, "I know who you are now." He shared a knowing look with his companion before turning back to Sebastian. "Isabela, here, can take you to Hawke in the morning."
Isabela let out a protesting yelp and seemed about to provide some excuse before Varric quickly shushed her with a look that Sebastian could not understand. "Stay here, if you like." The dwarf offered, clearly amused by the discomfort Sebastian displayed at the offer.
"That's alright. I can simply come back tomorrow." He replied, a giddy, churning sensation rising in his stomach. It was a small matter – at least he hoped – that he needed to deal with but Hawke would greatly improve the chances of his success in the endeavour. That and a small part of him could not help but feel excitement at the thought of seeing the man again, to know what had happened to his, well, saviour in the past year. "Thank you. I won't forget your kindness." He muttered, though his sentiment rang true and he bowed his head to both of them before heading out of the tavern.
In the early morning sun, The Hanged Man did not look all that better than it did at night. If anything, the light only served to make it more of an eyesore. Still, it could have been the most daunting, darkest, demon-infested lands of The Fade and Sebastian would have entered. For his family, his home, he had to see this through.
He found Isabela lounging against the counter. As soon as she spotted him she stretched, languid as a cat, and picked up two daggers resting in front of her. "Off we go then." She muttered, grudgingly.
"Not a morning person, I see." Sebastian smiled warmly, attempting to ease some of his own anxiety as they headed out of the tavern and onto the streets of Lowtown together.
"Not after a night like I had, no. When you pound a few shots, and a sailor or two, it tends to leave you a little worn." His cheeks instantly went aflame at her comment, drawing a laugh from the woman next to him. "Don't act so innocent. You may be Andraste's boyfriend or... whatever it is you swear to when the Chantry straps a chastity belt on you and makes you recite their bollocks but I've been to near enough every port in the world. Starkhaven being one of them. I've heard the tales of your appetites, enough to match mine and then some."
He turned away, shame causing him to be unable to look her in the eye. "I changed. Became better." He took in a deep breath, steeled himself as he rose his head to look once more ahead, chin held high and proud. "I know you won't understand it, but it wasn't the life for me. It was... wasteful. I have purpose now." He muttered, hand resting upon the buckle of Andraste worn about his waist. "Though I'll admit, I did think it was all 'bollocks' to begin with." He chuckled, catching from the corner of his eye that Isabela attempted to return the smile, though it fell flat.
"Purpose, eh? No wonder Hawke couldn't resist you." She shook her head and they continued on, Sebastian frowning as he mulled over what she meant.
They reached Hightown - Sebastian had definitely not expected to see the man decked out in tattered, patchwork armoured robes to dwell among nobility, but didn't bother to bring it up despite his curiosity – and after a short walk through the market Isabela turned sharply and without warning simply pushed her way through a door. Sebastian stood awkwardly at the threshold, watching the Rivaini swagger down the entry-way to the mansion. She stopped, looking over her shoulder, surprise on her face when she realised the Prince wasn't at her side. "What are you doing?"
"I haven't been invited in. It's only proper." He scowled slightly. He didn't know how familiar Isabela was with Hawke but even then it did not fit with the manners he was raised with to just barge into someone's home.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Hawke won't mind, rather the opposite, I think. He needs a distraction." Her voice tailed off on the last statement, some unknown sorrow clouding her eyes for just a moment before she shook her head and smirked once more. "Never mind, just get in here and leave the stick up your arse at the door."
With a soft huff of indignation Sebastian stepped past, closing the door behind him before taking long strides to make up for the short distance between the two of them. "Hawke!" She hollered, walking into the main hall, a glint in her eye as she went towards the banister of the stairs, procuring one of the daggers from her back. "Get your arse down here!" She yelled her hands making quick work as she carved some symbol into the wood that Sebastian couldn't quite make out from where he stood.
"Enchantment?"
The Prince nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice that suddenly came behind him, turning on his heel and being stopped in his tracks by the altogether unsettling ice-blue gaze of a dwarf. Sebastian could not help but bristle under the odd boy's stare, it felt as if the dwarf was seeing right through him. "Sandal! Don't bother the guests!" Another new voice rang in as a door opened to the side of the room, an elderly dwarven man with a few streaks of grey in his otherwise red hair and beard rushed in, shooing the younger boy away. Sebastian's bemusement only increased further when a large, loping Mabari followed out on his heels. "So sorry for my boy there. He likes meeting new people is all. Please accept..." The dwarf rambled off into a long-winded apology but Sebastian heard none of it, eyes focussed terrified on the Mabari baring its teeth in warning at him.
"Merrick, heel!" A voice yelled from the top of the stairs and the war dog's ears perked back up from their pinned-down position and a calm, placated expression washed over the dog's face as it sat back on its haunches. Isabela, startled by the voice – oh, that gruff voice that Sebastian could not help but remember perfectly – quickly sheathed her dagger and scampered to Sebastian's side before the man he had been unable to forget for a year appeared at the stairs, a disgruntled frown on his face as he tied a house coat about himself over his nightwear. "Bodhan, what's all the noise for?" He grumbled, his frown digging deeper into his brow as he padded down the stairs.
The elder dwarf seemed to snap to attention, rattling off a number of apologies and excuses that Hawke looked to immediately regret asking for. The frown he wore turned deeply sorrowful at having been so short with his... Sebastian wasn't quite sure what use anyone had for a dwarf in their home that conventional elven servants couldn't serve, but it was not his to question when he was already imposing himself upon Hawke, seemingly without the man's notice.
"Bodhan, Bodhan, stop." The frown relaxed completely, a rueful smile on his face. "I get the picture." He let out a chuckle, but the laugh did not reach his eyes. Sebastian, it seemed, was not the only one to notice this, as the Mabari wandered over to Hawke, nuzzling its strong snout into his master's side. "So, Isabela, what are you...?" Sebastian felt his heart jump into his throat as Hawke finally acknowledged his presence, his blue eyes widening in recognition and something Sebastian couldn't place.
Isabela, clearing her throat as she moved to Hawke's side, looked rather pleased with herself and leaned herself at a tilt by placing a hand on Hawke's broad shoulder, balancing herself on his strong build. "The Prince of Starkhaven desires you once more, oh valiant hero." She teased, Hawke sending her a small sidelong glare as his cheeks flushed from beneath his beard.
The fire burning to the side of the main hall must have been very warm as Sebastian felt a similar blush creep up his cheeks. "Yes, it's... a matter of delicacy and I didn't know where else to turn." He murmured, feeling once again unsure as he had in the tavern the night before. "I have been betrayed again, by someone I thought I might always have at my family's side." His cheeks burned brighter, but for a different reason this time. Rage bubbled up inside of him at the Harrimanns for proving to be vipers just like all the other nobility he had turned to, and himself for trusting them so easily. What a fool I was. There are so few I can trust, and even then their loyalties are so easily bought. Yet, he trusted Hawke. It was far from sensible, but, despite her teasing, what Isabela said was true. Hawke was a hero, had saved Sebastian from devoting his life to revenge, though he could not give it up completely. He had a duty to the Maker, but also to Starkhaven. They had no King, and no matter how hard it might be, he would strive to be one they deserved.
"Please, Hawke. I know what I ask of you is more than I deserve, but I promise, if you help me, I will do everything in my power to repay you." He traced the man's features earnestly for any sign, any small hope, that Hawke would agree. But all it did was break his heart. There was something missing from this proud, noble man. A spark had been snuffed out and an emptiness left in its place that made Sebastian wish to retract every request he had made. There was a pain, old and festering in Hawke's heart, but the way it shone in his eyes screamed as bright as a fresh, bleeding gash. It showed in the lines creasing his forehead, turned down at his mouth and the way his hair hung limp instead of crowning him with unkempt spikes.
Isabela, sensing her friend's hesitance, squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "Come on, Hawke. You might not need the gold, but I certainly do." She chuckled, nudging him, but his expression remained uncertain as he drew a lip between his teeth.
"I might get someone hurt..." He mumbled, casting his eyes to the ground and making Sebastian feel more ashamed of himself than any Chantry Cleric had ever managed to.
"Enough of that. They wouldn't want you thinking that way, and you know it." Isabela sternly chastised him, though in contrast her hand rubbed soothing circles along his arm.
Blue eyes met Sebastian's, brimming with trepidation before Hawke gave a stiff nod. "Alright." He muttered, sniffing and scratching idly at his Mabari's ears. "Alright." He repeated firmer before turning his attention to Bodhan. "Bodhan, do I have a set of armour fit for wear?" The dwarf nodded in reply and Hawke forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Very well, when shall we meet?"
"Tonight." Sebastian replied, "if it's not too soon for you to prepare. Time is, unfortunately, of the essence."
"We'll meet here then." Hawke said before turning to Isabela, his smile finally taking shape and turning playful. "That includes you." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "You brought him here, after all."
Isabela let out a defeated huff, shoving away from her friend. "It was Varric's idea." She whined childishly before heading towards the door. Sebastian turned to follow her but felt a hand wrap around his wrist, gently urging him to stop.
"Sorry." Hawke immediately muttered, looking down at his feet. "I just... it's good to see you." He finally got out, chuckling at his own lame statement. "I mean to say, I hope that I can help you find what you seek." He finished, Sebastian feeling a little guilty at the vagueness of Hawke's sentiment, stemming from his own lack of information.
"I hope so too." He smiled ruefully, taking Hawke's hand just as it dropped from around his wrist and shaking it. "Perhaps we might stay in touch this time?" Sebastian tried so hard for it to sound casual, but his earnestness seeped through against his will.
"Aye." Hawke smiled, his muscles seeming to ease slightly at the agreement. "Perhaps we might." With that, he released Sebastian's hand and the Prince, after a moment of staring at the man's retreating back, turned to leave.
The last thing he heard as he shut the door behind him was a muttered wonderment along the lines of "who carves that into a banister?" followed shortly by the Rivaini woman's name yelled in exasperation.
A/N
Brownie points if anyone can pinpoint the childhood show where the name of Hawke's Mabari comes from! Let me know if you feel like I'm not getting characters right, this is my first time writing Dragon Age fic and I don't want it to be a complete disaster of boring plot and OOCness. Also, as it obviously already is, this story will deviate from canon occasionally. I refused to have Sebastian just write a letter, nuh-uh, not getting away that easily.