Act One

Chapter Six

Checking on Aveline

The main hall of the Viscount's Keep was designed to impress, or intimidate, depending on who you were and why you were there. Lofty marble columns held up a ceiling so high that it was nearly obscured in the smokey haze generated from the numerous candles and lamps needed to light the place. Thick red carpets covered the walkways and stairs, with the tiled surfaces and gilded trimmings of the bannisters polished to a high sheen.

Paden's footsteps echoed in the grand hall as she and Carver entered the massive front doors. She had been here only a few times since Aveline joined the Guard. Paden didn't like coming here. The fancy architecture and outrageous size of the place, while admittedly impressive, spoke to Paden of nothing more than power generated by wealth. When Paden thought of wealth it reminded her of the pompous fools she'd see on the streets in Hightown, strutting about like peacocks in mating season. It was all silly, and Paden was not impressed.

Though she was intimidated, but not by what most people in here would think. To her the polished marble, thick carpets and fancy banners were just things, and she was not afraid of things. There was a greater threat in this place, one that was very real and ever present.

As she mounted the steps of the grand staircase at the back of the hall, she glanced at the guards who stood at either side, keeping a silent vigil. While they did not wear the flaming sword emblazoned armor of the Templars, they seemed—in Paden's mind at least—like an efficient extension to that army. The City Guard regularly turned mages over to the Gallows. Paden understood why they did it; apostates were illegal and was the Guard's duty to uphold the law, but that didn't make it any easier to stomach.

Paden could see the eyes of the guard on the landing staring at her through the slit in his helmet as she ascended the steps in front of him. A steady, unblinking gaze that spoke volumes to Paden. He knew what she was, and friend of a fellow Guard or not, he was watching her. If she made one wrong move, he would know about it, and he would act.

That is why Paden hated coming here, and that was probably the reason why she hadn't seen Avaline in over a month. This was Avaline's home, and she was usually too busy to leave it in order to visit friends.

The fault couldn't be laid solely on Aveline though, since Paden was just as guilty for letting their relationship fall through the cracks. She never tried seeking out Aveline. Never sent her letters asking if they could meet away from the Keep. She never invited Aveline to join her and Carver at the Hanged Man for a drink, or on a shopping trip in the market. Sometimes the realization of that made Paden feel guilty. After everything they had gone through together they should be more than friends; they should be family.

And yet, Paden never felt that sort of connection with Aveline. Friendship, yes, to some degree, but definitely not kinship. She didn't know why. Maybe it was because she and Aveline often had very differing viewpoints, sometimes to the extent of rivalry. Paden was a mage, and an apostate at that. Avaline's late husband had been a Templar, and even though Aveline insisted that fact never colored her views on the issue, Paden wasn't so sure.

But Aveline was loyal, and even though they weren't close, she kept Paden's secret. Even after she joined the Guard, Aveline made a point of looking the other way when it came to things Paden had to do for Athenril—many of which were illegal activities. Paden owed a lot to Aveline.

They had to walk past two more guards stationed in a side hall before descending a long staircase into the barracks. There were even more guards here, since this is where they lived. But luckily most of them were off duty and too busy with their own affairs to notice Paden as she and Carver walked by. Still, Paden never relaxed her guard.

A quick glance around the common room of the barracks revealed Avaline standing by the duty roster. Even though her back was turned, and she wore the same uniform as everyone else in the room, her bright red hair and Wesley's Templar shield strapped to her back gave her away. Aveline could never bring herself to trade in Wesley's shied for the standard issue Guard shield. Even a year after Wesley's death she still carried it faithfully. Paden admired that about her.

"Avaline!" Paden called with a ready smile.

Aveline's head stilted slightly, but she didn't turn around or even look over her shoulder. "Hawke," she acknowledged, as if they had just spoken hours ago.

Paden arched an eyebrow and exchanged a perplexed look with Carver. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" she said to her friend.

"What?" Avaline said, finally turning around, an equally perplexed look on her face. "Oh, right, sorry. It feels like we just talked. I've been keeping an eye on you." She motioned for them to move to an empty corner where they could talk more privately.

Paden frowned. "You know I don't like it when you have people watch me," she said. "It keeps me on high alert all the time, as if I didn't have enough to worry about."

"It saves me from camping on your doorstep," Aveline countered. "After what we went through to get here I—" She stopped, swallowed thickly and glanced away.

Paden watched her closely, waiting for her to finish. But she knew she wouldn't. Aveline never openly expressed personal feelings, no matter how strongly she felt them. Instead of visiting Paden herself, or exchanging letters to make sure her friend was doing all right, she posted spies to keep her updated on Paden's wellbeing. Paden knew she should be flattered and grateful, but instead it only irritated her. Sometimes being strong got in the way of being happy. Paden knew this truth all too well.

"Well, you're no child," Aveline finally said, defaulting just as Paden had predicted. "But I take care of my friends, Hawke."

"Well, thank you, Aveline," Paden managed. "But I haven't seen you in a while, how are you doing?"

Aveline shrugged and turned her gaze to the duty roster. "Bored," she admitted with a little sigh. "I've been pushed out to some dead patrols. Maybe I stepped on someone's toes."

Paden forced back a smile and kept her voice even, since Aveline never appreciated Paden's wisecracking sense of humor. "You can be…forceful," she said carefully.

Aveline actually smiled. "My charm, right?"

Paden couldn't help but chuckle. "You wouldn't be you without it." She paused. "Are you still having trouble? I thought you were past all that."

When Aveline had first joined the Guard they had given her a hard time because she was Fereldan. She had to work double-time, double-effort to gain the respect of her superiors and even her peers.

"So did I," Aveline admitted thoughtfully. "But lately I don't know."

Paden scuffed her foot on the tile floor and looked down at the faint mark her boot made. Anything to avoid meeting Avaline's green-eyed gaze as she asked her next question.

"It's been a year settling in," she said carefully. "Are you…all right?" She cast a quick glance at her friend's face and saw Aveline's brow furrow in disapproval.

"You don't need to coddle me," Aveline said, slamming that door before it had a chance to open. "I am where I am. How close I hold my memories is my own business."

Paden raised her hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. "All right. Pardon my concern, but you don't seem very happy, even after all you've accomplished. You, a Fereldan, joined the Guard, and made lieutenant in your first year. That's no small feat."

"You don't have to recite my accomplishments to me, Hawke." She sighed. "But…this uniform does make me stand taller than I sometimes feel."

Paden arched her eyebrows in surprise. That was probably the first time she had ever heard Aveline admit any kind of weakness. "You miss serving King Cailan, don't you?"

Aveline fixed her gaze across the room and sighed again. "I loved that life," she said with a nod. "But there's a new king now, for a new Ferelden." She shook her head in amazement. "King Alistair, the Gray Warden. Who would have ever predicted that? But I guess he was there when the Archdemon fell. You can't fault an active hand." She shook her head and swept that aside with a vague gesture. "But that life is over. It ended at Ostagar." She glanced at Paden's brother. "You were there, Carver. Do you feel the same?"

Carver looked stonily at Aveline. "No," he said bluntly.

"All right then," Aveline said, furrowing her brow as she turned back to Paden. "Bit of a tit, your brother."

Paden chose not to acknowledge Aveline's comment about Carver. She knew her brother had suffered a lot emotionally in regards to the battle at Ostagar and the sacking of Lothering, and then the death of his twin sister. He never talked about any of it, but she could see the pain behind his eyes whenever either subject was brought up. Aveline had been there too, but everyone experiences a situation differently, and deals with the pain of it in their own ways. Carver chose to endure it in silence, and Paden had come to not only accept that, but to respect it as well.

"The Blight is over," she said instead. "You could go back to Lothering if you wanted to."

Aveline shook her head. "That was never home for me. It's just where the Horde pressed us, and wasn't the first village I saw fall." She glanced at Carver who was staring at the floor. "But you don't get used to people losing everything. They say you can't go home again. That proverb's supposed to be about maturity. It's not the same when you don't have the option."

Paden's gaze shifted to the doorpost that Aveline was leaning against, and that familiar knot began to form in her throat at the memory of that day. They had been among those who had lost everything. They had fled that smoking carnage with little more than the clothes on their backs. It was not the first time they had had to flee their home, but it was the first time they had had to flee a slaughter, for that's what it had been.

Even a year later Paden still had nightmares of that horrifying day. Of the homes burning, sending roiling black columns of smoke far into the sky, seen from miles around as they ran farther and farther away, tripping over the mutilated bodies of their friends and neighbors.

Another image abruptly flashed across her mind's eye. That huge ogre reaching down. Bethany's frail body breaking under the weight of that giant fist…

Paden shook her head quickly to clear it, and then drew a sharp breath. She swallowed hard and glanced around the room. "It's…not how I wanted to say goodbye," said softly, her voice cracking.

They stood there in a moment of uncomfortable silence; three people who were so emotionally constipated they couldn't even talk openly about a painful event of which they all shared memories. No comforting hugs or pats on the shoulder, or even words of condolence. Nothing that normal people would do when faced with grief. It was more important to keep up those walls. Paden shook her head in amazement. What a sorry lot they had become.

Carver interrupted Paden's thoughts with a soft cough, and then he poked her in the back. "Bounties?" he said softly, mercifully moving the subject away from uncomfortable territory.

"What?" Avaline asked, looking up at him.

"The reason we came here," Paden said after clearing her throat again. "I'm sure you know about that Deep Roads expedition we're partnering with?"

"Yes," Avaline said, folding her arms across her chest. "I take it you need coin to fund such a large venture."

"That's exactly it," Paden said. "We were hoping you had some bounties we could collect."

Avaline drew a deep breath and sighed it out slowly as she considered. "Actually, there is something I could use your help with. Foiling an ambush. Probably for a caravan, although I can't find any shipments that match up. But it doesn't matter. If there's highwaymen waiting for someone to rob, I'm putting a stop to it, my district or not."

Paden arched her eyebrows in surprise. "You've been nosing around outside your commission?"

"I have contacts," Aveline said evasively. "I've heard some things, and they sound like they're worth checking out."

"But wouldn't you want to tell your fellow guards about this?"

"I will, if you sit on your hands," Aveline said. "I'll send my alerts and someone else will lead a patrol. But you wanted a job, and you're my friend, so I'm offering."

Paden glanced at Carver for his opinion, but he just shrugged. "All right, Aveline," she said. "We'll check it out with you. We do need the coin."

Avaline smiled slightly in appreciation. "They're hidden up Sundermount. Pretty remote, but we can make good time with a shortcut this side."

"Sundermount?" Paden said. "Haven't been up there in a while. Might be a nice chance to stretch our legs a bit. Just name a time."

"Tomorrow morning at dawn," Aveline said. "Meet me on the road outside the city."

"Tomorrow then," Paden said with a nod. "And thank you."

Paden and Carver left the barracks and made their way past all the guards in the main hall once again. This time Paden had to walk away from them, and she could feel their gazes boring into her back. She had to make a conscious effort to keep an even pace and not rush. The moment those huge doors closed behind her and she felt the cool breeze on her face and the sun on her hair, she felt her body deflate a little, as if keeping her guard up for that long had been physically exhausting. She had to convince Aveline to get out more.

"She's quite a ray of sunshine," Carver said sarcastically, unaware of his sister's inner struggle.

Paden glanced at him. "You're not exactly a summer afternoon yourself, little brother," she countered, though there was only friendly teasing in her tone.

"Aveline's never liked me," Carver defended.

"I wonder why," Paden muttered sarcastically. She shook her head before changing the subject, least they descend into yet another bickering argument that seemed to define their relationship. "Anyway, so we got a job. I just hope it pays decently."

"Or at all," Carver said as they began walking toward Lowtown. "She's going behind her captain's back, she can't exactly guarantee payment."

"No, she can't," Paden allowed hesitantly. "But she's a friend, Carver, she'll do her best."

"Well, in any case it will be good to do some honest work for once."

Paden flashed her brother an understanding smile. "I can't agree with you more, brother dear."

—

As Paden slid her key into the lock at Gamlen's apartment, she could hear raised voices through the door. She closed her eyes and drew a heavy sigh, pausing with her hand on the key for a moment.

They were arguing again. Whether it was about her uncle's gambling debts or the price of bread, it seemed like her mother and uncle could always find something to argue about. It reminded her of herself and Carver, though she was pretty sure that her mother and uncle were worse. At least she and Carver kept their more heated arguments private—most of the time.

"Wonder what it could be about this time," Carver said from behind her.

Paden sighed again and finally turned the key. "I don't even care anymore," she grumbled, and pushed the door open.

Leandra and Gamlen were standing by the fireplace, so intent on their argument that they didn't even notice Paden and Carver's return.

"I'm still their daughter, their eldest," Leandra was saying. "Gamlen, my children have been in servitude, servitude for a year. They should be nobility!"

So they were talking about that again, were they? Mother still hadn't forgiven Gamlen for selling the estate, and was always willing to tell him so at the slightest provocation. Of course, Paden hadn't forgiven him either, but she preferred ignoring him to pointless arguing. Paden didn't really care about the estate in the end anyway. She didn't want to be nobility and live in Hightown. She didn't want to live the rest of her life in Gamlen's house either, but wasn't there some place in between where they could find happiness? The estate was gone; what was the use of arguing?

"If wishes were poppy we'd all be dreaming," Gamlen bit back.

Paden moved over to the desk and leaned her staff against the wall. "You mean this is real?" she interjected with humorous sarcasm. "No wonder I can't wake up." She looked down at the pile of letters on the desk and leafed through them. She could feel Gamlen's glare from across the room.

"And here I thought that Fereldan you ran off with was a mage, not a jester," he said to his sister. Then he moved over into Paden's line of sight as she picked up a letter to read. "Your mother was supposed to marry the Comte do Launcet," he said.

Paden held her hand out at arm's length, palm toward Gamlen. "You've told us this many times already, Uncle. I grow weary of hearing it."

But Gamlen was in mid rant and wouldn't be stopped that easily. "Well, instead she ran off with that Fereldan apostate," he said, nearly spitting out the last word.

Paden whirled on him. "Father wasn't just some Fereldan apostate," she said, trying to keep her voice under control. "He was a great man."

Gamlen scoffed. "Great at getting himself in trouble."

Paden's fists clenched as anger flushed her cheeks red. She took a step toward her uncle. "Gamlen, I swear, if you insult my father one more time…"

Leandra quickly inserted herself between them, holding her arms out to keep them apart. "Calm down, Paden." She glared at her brother. "You, too, Gamlen."

After a tense moment of glaring, Paden turned around and resumed her perusal of the mail, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she forced herself to calm down. Why did she have to get so riled up like that?

"I want to know where Father's will is," Leandra demanded of Gamlen.

So, they were talking about the will again. Mother had asked Gamlen before if she could see the will, but Gamlen always told her it was impossible, that it was out of reach, locked up on the estate.

"I told you," Gamlen said, irritated and defensive. "It was read, it went in the vault. No one needed to look at it again."

"But I didn't get to see it," Leandra countered. "It's hard to believe that they left me nothing."

"Like I said, you weren't exactly the favorite anymore." Gamlen glanced at the door to his room, as if he were wishing he could retreat there.

Paden frowned. He seemed a tad too evasive. "Is Mother mentioned in the will at all?" she asked, since Gamlen hadn't, in all their arguments, ever actually denied it.

He sent her a glare. "How am I supposed to remember that? Our father died twenty-five years ago."

"Oh, that's convenient," Carver said, rolling his eyes.

"A bit touchy, Uncle," Paden said. Should she feel guilty that she enjoyed seeing Gamlen squirm? "I doubt you've forgotten it that completely. What's in there you don't want us to see?"

"Nothing," Gamlen insisted. But this time Paden could see the lie in his eyes.

Paden stared at him for several moments, her intense, green-eyed gaze making Gamlen squirm even more.

"Who bought the estate, Gamlen?" Leandra demanded. "I'm tired of you refusing to give me this information. I want to know. Was it the Rhinehearts?"

Gamlen shook his head and waved both hands in the air. "No, no one you know." He strode across the room to his bedroom door. "Get used to Lowtown, Sister; that's where we're going to stay." He slammed the door behind him.

Leandra exchanged a look with her children, and Paden could see a glaze of tears in her eyes. Before her emotions could manifest more, she fled to the other bedroom and closed the door softly behind her, leaving Paden and Carver standing by the desk in silence.

Knowing what happened to the estate meant so much to her mother, Paden could see that now more than ever. Was she so eager to return to the life she ran from when she married Father? She used to hate that life, and often talked of her past as a nobleman's daughter with thinly veiled contempt. Was she regretting the life she chose with Father? That idea lodged itself in Paden's stomach and began burning a little hole there.

"Maker, what a mess," Carver said, scratching his scalp as he usually did when he felt uncomfortable. "I want to make things better for Mother, but some of what Gamlen says…" He shook his head. "I'm having a hard time hating him."

Paden looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "You are?"

"Playing caretaker for someone else's life," Carver explained. "Stuck in their shadow…that's no way to live."

Paden's jaw clenched and she turned her body to face him. "Something you need to say?" she demanded, trying not to feel hurt by that veiled jab at her expense. Always with the shadow bit. All her life she had never tried to hold Carver back, or to take any extra attention. In fact, she frequently would defer to him, to try to get him to put himself out there more, take the reigns and make something for himself. But he had himself so stuck in her shadow for so long that sometimes she wondered if he even wanted to be outside of it. That would force him to actually think for himself, and maybe that was too frightening to face.

"Look," Carver said, "If you want to join the fight over who lost the most, fine. But I never lived here. I didn't know Grandfather. Finding his will doesn't matter to me."

"It doesn't matter to me either," Paden said. "I don't care a hog's snort about the estate or the status or any of it." She moved closer to her brother, almost nose to nose. "But you know what? It does matter to mother, and for that fact alone it should matter to you."

Carver turned his head to look away from her, but not before she saw the flash of guilt in his eyes. She stared at him for a moment, noticing his clenched jaw and rigid posture. He was still feeling defiant, but he wasn't arguing anymore. Carver cared about their mother just as much as Paden did.

"Besides," Paden said after a moment. "You're the one always looking for some connection to greatness."

Carver scoffed and shook his head as he unbuckled the strap of leather that held his great-sword on his back. "The once mighty Amells? No thank you. There's no glory to be found there. Only dust and slavers."

Paden arched an eyebrow at him. "Slavers? What do you mean? Have you heard something?"

Carver leaned his sword against the wall beside Paden's staff, and then he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while the other searched through the letters on the desk. "Uncle's a chatty drunk," he said absently, his attention divided between their conversation and one of the letters.

Paden waited while Carver paused to read. "And?" she pressed. "What did he say?"

Carver glanced back up at her. "He was up to his neck in bad debts. So he signed everything over to save his sorry hide."

"You mean he sold the estate to slavers?" Paden said, eyes wide.

Carver nodded. "Apparently the most extensive wine cellar in Kirkwall is now a slave highway from the Undercity." He blew a spluttery breath out between his lips as he returned half his attention to the letter again. "That's the family legacy," he muttered.

"Slavers," Paden said, pondering. She shook her head. "Mother would hate to hear about that."

"And that's why I haven't told her," Carver said, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"We have to do something," Paden decided. "For Mother's sake, this has to change." She didn't want the estate, but if it would make her mother happy, she would do what it took to get it back.

"And what if it does change?" Carver asked, folding the letter and tucking it into his pocket. He turned to face her. "What if the slavers are forced out? We're still not important enough to actually live in the place."

Paden's lips spread in a soft smile. "Baby steps, Carver," she reminded.

Carver sighed, giving in. "All right, Sister. If you want this, I may know a way to make it happen." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a large key, holding it up in front of his face. "Mother gave me her old key, as a way to stir something in me, I guess. It didn't work. But it supposedly unlocks every door in the old estate."

Paden's smile broadened and her heart rate went up a notch, just like it always did when she saw disjointed things begin to fall into place.

"We should probably sneak in through the cellars," Carver suggested. "Might have a better chance at that than knocking on the front door and asking if we can have a look in the vault."

Paden was truly pleased that Carver was willing to work with her on this and come up with a plan, for mother's sake. It wasn't the most conventional plan, but it was one they were good at. Working for Athenril had given them some skills they wouldn't otherwise have learned, and for that Paden could be grateful.