Disclaimer: All hail Bioware.
I) Aveline
Donnic was not home when Aveline stormed into their house by the barracks. 'Good' she thought. She sank slowly into an armchair, allowing her head to fall back as her mind ran over the previous day.
Maker, what had she been thinking? She had let Hawke go up against that giant. Her best friend, and she had let her fight that... that... thing!
'This is all my fault' she thought, guilt gnawing away inside her. 'Well. Not entirely' she amended. 'Most of it is the whore's fault. But still... I should've said something. We could've fought him together, I could've protected her, I-'
With a shake of her head, Aveline quieted the voice in her head and did what she always did when she was upset. She reached for her blade and whetstone, and tried to let the rhythm of the familiar work soothe her. When the sword was sharp enough, she fetched a rag and began to polish the weapon methodically, removing any imperfections, the tiniest trace of rust.
She was still polishing an hour later when Donnic arrived home.
"Aveline?" he asked cautiously.
Ignoring him, she carefully folded the rag away as she finished her work. She held the sword up, gazing at the perfection of the blade. Then with a cry of disgust, she hurled it at the wall. Her head fell into her hands as Donnic came and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.
'I failed you' she thought. 'Hawke, I'm sorry, I failed you'.