After knocking several times at the door of Danarius's mansion and receiving no answer, Hawke headed back through the courtyard, muttering to himself that he'd walked all that way for nothing, when he paused, fancying he could hear faint music.

He concentrated, eventually tracing the sound to one of the upper-floor windows. He looked up and listened for a few minutes, his foot tapping in time with the jaunty tune.

With a curious smile on his face, he walked back to the door and knocked again; still the music continued, and still no answer came. He warily turned the handle to the door, finding it was unlocked. Craning his head around the door, he looked around; thankfully the shades and other creatures they'd killed the night before had been destroyed, or at least removed, by Fenris.

"Hello? Fenris?"

The music paused momentarily before resuming.

"Fenris! Are you there?"

The music finally stopped, and nothing else could be heard.

"It's Hawke…I'm sorry to disturb you. I did knock…the door was open."

After a moment, Fenris appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs. "Hawke…I was not expecting…erm…is something amiss?"

"Oh, no, I just wanted to bring you your share of the day's takings," he said from the doorway. "It's thanks to you we made any money at all."

"Oh…well, come in." Fenris left the landing, disappearing through a door at the rear.

Hawke closed the door and made his way up the stairs, glancing around the huge, empty mansion. "In here," Fenris called from the centre room leading off the landing, to which the door had been left ajar.

Hawke entered the large room, in which Fenris had made a bed for himself upon a small settee in one corner. Several pieces of broken wooden furniture lay scattered around the room, presumably destroyed for firewood; a good-sized fire blazed from the hearth, and Hawke could make out one or two table legs within the flames. Fenris sat upon a small bench next to the fire with a half-empty bottle of wine in his hand, and gestured for Hawke to sit in the armchair opposite.

"I have no glasses," explained Fenris as Hawke took a seat, passing the wine bottle over to him.

"They're a waste of glass, if you ask me," answered Hawke, taking a slug from the bottle and returning it to Fenris. "Thanks, that's pretty nice. You're…rather fond of it yourself, aren't you?" he asked, his eyes wandering to the two empty bottles on the floor next to Fenris.

Fenris shrugged and took several deep gulps of wine before setting the bottle down.

"Hey! That's what I could hear!" Hawke exclaimed with a huge grin on his face, having spotted a beautifully-crafted lute propped up against the bench upon which Fenris sat. "My grandfather used to play one of those…may I?"

"By all means," said Fenris, passing the instrument over to him. Hawke ran his hand along its curved back and strummed a few of the strings, producing a jarringly dissonant chord.

"You're pretty good," he complimented Fenris, who smiled lopsidedly in reply. "How long have you been playing for?"

"Erm…" Fenris' eyes darted to his left as he tried to formulate a convincing answer in his mind. "Long enough," he eventually answered.

Hawke, remembering Fenris' words to Merrill telling of how he had no memory of his former life, wondered if Fenris could actually remember having learned at all. "Sorry; I didn't mean to be nosy."

"No…you're not," answered Fenris, taking the lute off Hawke and carefully leaning it against the wall. "Do you play?"

"Uh, I can play the spoons," Hawke offered, cringing a little.

"The spoons?"

"Yes, and oh! I can produce a few decent notes with a jug, as well, but I'm particularly proud of my work with the spoons."

Fenris frowned heavily, and looked at Hawke with an expression of confusion and mild amusement, his head tilted to one side. "That is a form of musical expression with which I have yet to become acquainted."

"Oh, you haven't lived until you've seen me play the spoons!" Hawke boasted. "You'll have to stop by at The Hanged Man one of the nights…oh, maybe it's not your kind of thing, though…" He paused, noticing that Fenris' expression had changed to one of outright bewilderment.

"You are a very strange man," he told Hawke.

"You know, that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me since I arrived in Kirkwall!" joked Hawke.

Fenris laughed softly, shaking his head, and passed the wine bottle back to Hawke, who took another swig from it. "No, it really is the nicest thing anyone's said." He reached into his pocket and produced a few coins. "Here, Fenris; this is your share of the bandits' loot."

He dropped the coins into Fenris' outstretched palm, taking great care not to touch him. "There will be more, once Varric has sold the other stuff we got from them."

"Thank you for bringing this to me," Fenris said, slipping the money into his own pocket.

"Well, I wasn't sure if we'd see you again; you sort of buggered off once we got back to the camp."

Fenris nodded, but offered no explanation.

Hawke got to his feet. "Well, I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to, you'd be welcome to work with us again. Varric and I meet up every morning at The Hanged Man, and there's nearly always something needing taking care of. If you ever fancy tagging along, and earning a few more coins, well, just show up one of the mornings."

"Will the others be there?" Fenris asked.

"The other mages, you mean?" Hawke glanced down at Fenris, who smiled thinly in response. "Well, Anders is a friend of mine, and he's always with us when he's not at the clinic. Merrill, well, I don't know if she'll be working with us, but she'll probably be around, as she doesn't really have anyone else. Then there's my sister and I. So, I'd say that if you have a problem with mages, you may want to reconsider working with us, as there will usually be at least two of us around."

Fenris considered this for a moment and looked up at Hawke. "You seem different to the others…as does your sister."

"Different? How?"

"I don't know, you seem less…" Unable to find the right word, he shrugged and smiled ruefully. "Forgive me. Perhaps I speak on a subject of which I have little knowledge." He rose to his feet and sighed. "My experiences with mages so far have not been…pleasant ones and I tend to look for faults in other mages that perhaps are not there."

"Then come and work with us," offered Hawke, "and let us prove you wrong."

"A challenge?" asked Fenris, stroking his chin. "Perhaps I will take you up on it. We shall see."

"Well, like I said, I'll be at The Hanged Man in the morning. Hope to see you there."

"If I do work with you," Fenris said quickly, "my opinions may not coincide with yours, or those of your friends."

"Well, it would be a pretty boring world if everyone agreed on everything, wouldn't it?" asked Hawke.

"Yes, indeed it would…thank you again for this," replied Fenris, patting the pocket which contained the coins.

Hawke nodded and left the room, heading down the stairs; Fenris followed him to see him out. Halfway down, Hawke stopped and turned to him. "You know, you really shouldn't leave your door open," he advised.

"We forced entry, remember?" Fenris reminded him. "I can find no key."

"Oh yes, of course," mumbled Hawke. "Tell you what, I'll ask Varric to take a look at the lock for you; he's good with things like that. For tonight, though, I'd recommend you at least push a chair against the door."

"For what purpose?" asked Fenris. "There is nothing of value, here."

"Well, your safety is of value, for one thing. What if your master – sorry, former master – was to return?"

Fenris' features darkened at the mention of Danarius. "He will return eventually, but not just yet. He is regrouping and formulating new strategies; it is the way it has been for the past three years."

"You've been on the run for three years?" exclaimed Hawke, and Fenris nodded slowly, his eyes betraying his bone-weariness.

"He will never stop hunting me. He no longer wants me as his slave; he wants me dead, and to strip the flesh from my corpse to get his precious investment back," Fenris growled, his hands fisting at his sides. "Sometimes I just wish that…no, I should not burden you with this. I apologise."

"It's all right," said Hawke. "I don't mind."

Fenris cleared his throat and proceeded to the main door, opening it for Hawke. "Thank you again, Hawke." He passed a bottle of wine to Hawke that he'd brought down with him. "Take one of these; there are plenty."

Hawke took the bottle and nodded in gratitude, turning to Fenris one last time. "Remember; the Hanged Man tomorrow morning. See you there."

As the door closed behind him, Hawke was both amused and relieved to hear the sound of furniture being moved around inside, and heard a soft thud against the door as something was propped up against it. He thought again of Fenris's assertion that Danarius would strip the flesh from the elf's body and glanced up at the windows of the mansion; and, satisfied that they were all securely closed, he finally left the estate, accompanied by a feeling of vague unease.

~o~O~o~

Hawke pushed open the door to Gamlen's house – well, Gamlen's hovel, as he called it – and was immediately met with a crushing hug from Bethany.

"Brother! I'm so glad you're home!"

Hawke returned the embrace, and lowered his mouth to her ear. "Everything all right?" he whispered.

She sighed and also lowered her voice. "Mother has been very…weepy today, and Gamlen…well, he's been Gamlen."

Hawke slung an arm around his younger sister's shoulders and led her over to the small dining table, which had already been laid. "I'm sorry, Beth; I had reasons for not taking you with me today. Don't worry, though; I'm taking you out for a drink after supper. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

"Oh?"

"Well, we met a Dalish elf on our travels and she's staying at the alienage. I think the two of you might get along; we'll call for her later."

"Oh, I look forward to that!" Bethany said excitedly.

Hawke cleared his throat and once again lowered his voice. "She's a, erm, a blood mage. You wouldn't believe it though, to look at her."

"Really?" whispered Bethany as they took their seats at the table. "And what did the others have to say about that?"

"They weren't over-keen, put it that way. Anders completely overreacted, in my opinion."

"Anders? But I thought that he of all people would have understood?"

Hawke sat back and folded his arms. "Well, Anders doesn't believe that Justice is a demon, as I do, so obviously he's better than a weak, feeble-minded blood mage, isn't he?"

"I wonder how he'd react if he knew?" she mused.

"He doesn't need to know; I'm never going to use it again, so what would be the point? Anyway, he didn't feel it necessary to tell me that he was host to a powerful spirit upon our first meeting, did he? It didn't occur to him, because that's just who he is."

"That's true, Brother. How did Varric react?"

Hawke laughed. "Does Varric ever react to anything? If he had an opinion, he certainly didn't express it. I think he's got the right idea."

"So, erm…" Bethany fiddled with her fingers and glanced sidelong at her brother.

"Yeeeeeessss?"

Bethany broke into giggles and nudged Hawke with her elbow. "Will, er, who will be going for a drink tonight?"

Hawke shook his head. "Why don't you just ask a straight question, Beth?"

"I just did! Now answer me."

"Well, as we're going to the Hanged Man, where Varric lives, I'm sure he'll put in an appearance at some point…" He watched as a faraway look came into Bethany's eyes. "…The Maker said he'd pop in for a game of quoits, as well, and I daresay he'll bring his missus along. We may have to call the law if Maeferath shows up again, though; he and the Maker were slung in the cells after that punch-up they had last week."

"Mmm? Oh, yes, lovely," Bethany mumbled with a sweet smile.

As Hawke laughed, the front door flew open and a distinctly grim-looking Gamlen charged in. "Uncle!" called Hawke, holding his arms out in greeting.

"Don't you start, boy; I've had a bad enough day as it is!" groused Gamlen, flopping down into a chair opposite the siblings. "Leandra! Isn't supper ready, yet?"

"I'll go and give her a hand," said Bethany.

"No, I'll go," Hawke offered, and pushed away from the table, heading to the kitchen.

After a few minutes, Hawke brought in a huge pot with a ladle poking out of the top, and Leandra brought in a freshly-baked loaf of bread on a tray. As they placed them on the table, Bethany helpfully went to the kitchen and brought in a slab of butter and cheese, and some cutlery.

"Feel free to help out, Uncle," Hawke said acidly.

Gamlen folded his arms and snorted. "When I'm staying in your house, boy, and you're providing me with a roof over my head, then you can tell me what to do."

Hawke placed his palms onto the table and leaned in toward his uncle. "And when you've found that estate of ours that you misplaced, then you can start talking down to me. You owe us, Uncle, and until you pay us back, this is my house, and the food you're eating was paid for with my money. Remember that."

"Just like his father," spat Gamlen. "No respect for his elders at all!"

"Please," Leandra implored. "Let us have a pleasant family meal, just this once."

"Sorry, Mother," Hawke said, squeezing her hand. Gamlen said nothing.

Hawke stood up and began to ladle his mother's chunky stew into two bowls, while Bethany broke off some bread for herself and passed the loaf to Leandra. "Ladies first," said Hawke, passing his mother and sister a bowl each, before filling his own. He then threw the ladle back into the pot, leaving a grumbling Gamlen to serve himself.

"I've just been to see Fenris," he told Bethany. "Did you know he's staying at that old mansion?"

"Fenris?" asked Leandra. "Another new friend, dear?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd call him a friend, but an acquaintance, certainly," answered Hawke. "He's good in a scrap, and hopefully he'll be working with us."

"He's very handsome," Bethany said with a grin at her brother.

"Can't say I've noticed," he replied, taking a bite of bread. "What?" he asked as his sister gave him a sideways glance. He chewed his bread and swallowed it. "Beth, you really have to stop trying to fix me up with every man we come across."

"Every man?" Gamlen asked with a look of horror. "Oh, Maker…you're not…one of them, are you?"

"One of them, Uncle? Whatever do you mean?" Hawke asked with mock innocence.

"I don't understand youngsters these days," Gamlen complained, his expression sour. "What's wrong with finding a nice girl, settling down and having children, eh? No, your lot all have to be different, don't you?"

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, Uncle," Hawke chuckled, and Gamlen shot him a withering glare. "Anyway, I think that your lot only moan and complain so much because it wasn't acceptable when you were younger, and you feel you've missed out."

"Oh, do me a favour!" Gamlen threw down his napkin and pushed himself up. "Excuse me, Leandra, but I've lost my appetite." He stomped into the adjoining room and closed the door.

"Oh, good! More for me." Hawke spooned Gamlen's leftovers into his own bowl. "Mother," he whispered, and Leandra leaned forward. "Tomorrow, one of my friends at the docks is getting me some fish, on the side. How about I bring it home before Gamlen gets in, and you make some of your buttery mash and parsley sauce to go with it? We haven't had that since we left Lothering."

"Oh, yes!" Bethany agreed.

"But what will Gamlen have?" asked Leandra.

"There'll be leftover stew, won't there?"

Leandra smiled and shook her head. "You're such a scallywag, Fletcher; just like your father was. All right, I'll see what vegetables I can rustle up to go with it. I have some peas and courgettes, I think." Her smile faded and she stared at the table for a moment. "Carver used to love that dish," she said quietly, and Hawke and Bethany glanced at one another.

"Well, I'll eat Carver's share, then," declared Hawke, forcing a jovial expression. "In his memory, of course."

"I'm sure he'd love you for that, Brother," Bethany chuckled, but there was a hollow ring to it.

"Perhaps I should dump it over my head, instead, Sister; I think Carver would have much preferred that."

"I think you could be right," she answered, and she and Leandra began quietly eating their stew as the conversation lulled.

"I'm stepping out for a gulp of air," declared Hawke. "Excuse me, Mother." He rose and made his way to the back door, pushed it open and stepped out into the small yard at the rear of the property. He moved a few chickens aside with his foot and sat down on the ground, leaning against a wall, and examined the wine bottle for a moment before pulling the cork out with his teeth.

His head fell back and he looked at the sky. Although he could not see it from where he was, the sun had begun to set; the few wisps of cloud that floated overhead were lit from below with a red-gold glow, and he watched for several moments, hoping to see something in those clouds; a shape, a sign, a message; anything.

Disappointed when nothing appeared, he sighed and raised the bottle up to the clouds. "To you, Brother," he toasted, and drank long from the bottle, only stopping when it began to spill out of his mouth and trickle down his neck. Wiping himself on his robe, he stared at the bottle, which was now just over half-full. "Bet you're having a good laugh at me now, aren't you, you bastard?" he asked the rapidly-darkening sky.

He drank some more from the bottle and wiped his mouth, sighing. Pushing himself to his feet, he took one final look up at the sky. "Look after him, Father," he said softly, and drained the remainder of the bottle.

~o~O~o~

Bethany and Hawke did not have far to go to the alienage; it was less than a ten-minute walk away from Gamlen's, and they took a leisurely stroll there, Hawke doing his best to hide the light-headedness he felt after consuming Fenris's wine.

Hawke liked the look of the alienage at this time of night: several small candles had been lit at the base of the Vhenadhal, and each of the small homes around the square had lit lanterns hanging outside their doors. Several elves milled about, some in conversation, some eating their supper in the street with their neighbours, while a few others quietly watched the sunset over the harbour. Hawke marvelled that such beauty and warmth could be found in a place where poverty and squalor were rife.

"Oh, there's Merrill now." Hawke pointed at the mage as she stood outside her modest dwelling, talking to another elven woman, who appeared to be upset.

"Oh, Hawke!" Merrill exclaimed as they drew nearer. "This lady needs our help; her son's gone missing…"

"Erm, Merrill, I really think this is a matter for the city Guard," said Hawke, not wishing to be drawn into another long-winded mission with little to no reward at the end. "Look, I'll go and fetch someone."

Merrill's tiny hand grabbed Hawke's arm and he stopped as she positioned herself in front of him. "He's an apostate," she whispered. Having gotten Hawke's attention, she elaborated. "He was beginning to have trouble…controlling his powers and his mother called the templars, believing he would be safest in the Circle, but he's run off."

The lady burst into tears and Merrill rubbed her back, whispering words of comfort.

"Please, tell me everything you can," Hawke asked the lady, whose name was Arianni, and, after taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she told Hawke the story while Bethany and Merrill introduced themselves.

Hawke placed a hand over his mouth and shot Bethany a grave glance. "We need to find him, quick; he could be..." Bethany nodded in understanding.

"I didn't know what else to do!" Arianni sobbed. "I thought I was doing the right thing but now I don't know where he's gone and…oh!" She broke down again.

"Listen Merrill," said Hawke. "You stay with Arianni. Beth, I'll take you to the Hanged Man, and you and Varric can go and see if Fenris will join us, while I go and fetch Anders. The more of us there are, the better our chances are." He turned to Arianni. "I will look for the boy's father, and, failing that, we'll talk to the templars." He lowered his voice and muttered under his breath, "although Varric and Fenris can do that. Come on, Beth."

Arianni, too distraught to offer thanks, was led inside by Merrill as Hawke and Bethany departed the alienage.

"So much for a quiet drink at the Hanged Man, eh, Beth?" moaned Hawke.

"Oh, I don't know; after the day I've had at home, I welcome a bit of adventure," Bethany replied with a smile.

"You love all this, don't you?"

"Of course, Brother!" She slipped her arm through his. "Are you sure you want to leave me alone with Varric, Hawke? Shouldn't you be chaperoning us?"

"What for? I'd trust Varric with my life." Bethany grinned and placed a peck on her brother's cheek. "Question is, Beth, can I trust you?"

"Oh, shut up!" she laughed, and they made their way to the Hanged Man in light spirits.