Sorry for the long delay, it's been mad for me the passed couple of moths, I'm amazed my head is still on my shoulders lol!

Anyway, I hope that this chapter is well received :) please read and review.

Apologies for the dodgy first upload, my computer wasn't playing nice, second time lucky, eh?

...

By the time Hawke and Fenris had reached the Chantry, the small talk and pleasantries were as dry as a desert. It seemed an eternity since both had opted for silence and although this had removed the chance of saying what could be very much the wrong thing, it had replaced nervousness with a stern quietness that neither seemed confident enough to break.

It was a combination of relief and confusion that Hawke felt when she saw Sebastian on the steps to the Chantry, leaning against one of the steady stone structures as if tired of waiting for them to arrive.

"Hawke," he nodded to her as they came closer. "I had anticipated your visit a little earlier."

"And why would you anticipating a visit?" Fenris queried in a scathing and deep tone that Hawke knew all but too well…

"We're friends, Fenris." She bit back, before returning her attention to Sebastian. "He does have a point though, why were you expecting a visit?"

His crisp blue eyes turned to her, as if to take her in. "Apologies, I fear I have explained myself poorly. I heard of Merril and Isabella's troubles, tell me, are they both well?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "How exactly do you know about that…?"

"I didn't realise you have eyes in Darktown…" Fenris cut in, almost accusingly.

Sebastian gave the elf a steady look before giving a sigh. "I would have expected you of all people to understand, that the roots of our past can spring up anywhere… it is wise to learn where they are lest you trip…"

"Hmmm… a fine speech, but in my experience flowery words often conceal other intentions…" The swordsman's tone and words gave no intention he was about to let this line of enquiry go… not even when held under Sebastian's austere stare.

"I'm not sure what you would like me to say. I had heard that the Flint Company were making a presence once more in Kirkwall, it seemed in my best interests to keep abreast of certain developments. In spite of Lady Harriman's defeat, there are still many that would wish me dead."

"But we destroyed the Company didn't we?" Hawke frowned.

The archer smiled softly. "My dear Hawke, you didn't honestly think you had wiped out the entire company did you?"

"She's done it before. You should have seen her in her prime…"

Hawke's cheeks suddenly burned with heat, embarrassment or anger… probably both. "What do you mean 'my prime'?!" She stopped herself. She was sure she could see that mocking smile in the shadows. Fenris, however, was careful to avoid meeting her gaze. She cursed to herself, how easily he could rile her still. "Have you learned anything useful so far?" Hawke asked in a professional tone, eager to wipe that undoubtedly smug grin from the swordsman's face.

"Nothing, other than the common sense not to venture far from the Chantry at night alone. But I suspect that is something most citizens of this city learn at a young age."

"What about a stone?" Hawke asked, recalling what Isabella had said.

Suddenly, Sebastian's languid manner and soft expression changed. "What stone?" He demanded, and somehow Hawke was certain that he already knew the answer to his own question.

"You'll have to ask Isabella that… that's what they were looking for when they were attacked."

"… you must take me to them now…"

Hawke blinked. Fenris groaned. "I'm not sure what you expect at this hour, the witch is recovering from her wounds and the other's probably passed out in her own vomit as we speak."

"He's right, Sebastian," though she shot the elf a filthy glare. "Not the 'witch' bit or 'vomit' part… alright… actually, probably the 'vomit' part… but this can wait until the morning, can't it? You've said it yourself, it would be safer to wait until morning…"

Sebastian shook his head and lifted his bow to his shoulder. "This cannot wait, Hawke. If this is what I think it is, you'll understand why… Besides, I said alone. Who would dare hurt me with the mighty Champion by my side?"

Hawke gave a small sigh in defeat and shrugged her shoulders. "Who needs sleep anyway?"

"More walking. Wonderful…" Fenris grunted loudly. Yet rather than offer any argument, he simply turned and started making his way towards the downward flight of stairs, stretching as he did so.

Hawke watched him go, musing to herself. She certainly did know how to complicate her life… Her attention was returned to her when a hand clasped her warmly around the shoulders.

"You wouldn't have it any other way…" He smiled almost wistfully, also watching after the retreating figure.

She stifled the snort. "Almost… I could do without the scowling…"

…..

Predictably, the scene that awaited them at Ander's clinic was much as had been anticipated. Merrill lay still, impossibly pale, dwarfed by the huge mantle Anders had offered her to keep her warm. Isabella would have been seated upright… if it weren't for the fact she had apparently collapsed face first into the table before her, and Anders was nowhere to be seen. Hawke could understand that… even she wasn't safe from the rogue's advances when she'd had a few. He'd probably even locked the door to his quarters to ensure his personal safety.

Sebastian entered the room first, with a determination that somehow reminded her of Aveline. His eyes fixed on Isabella's sleeping form. He approached her and took hold of her shoulder. "Wake up." It sounded stern, and cold, and authoritative… a far cry from the gentle tone she was used to. Whatever that stone was, it had to be important. Even the pirate's shrugs and mumbled threats of decapitation did not seem to deter him. Isabella's irritation won out long before Sebastian's perseverance. "What the hell do you want?! Can't a girl get a night's sleep?" She flopped forward dramatically, burying her head in her hands.

"Not when that 'girl' has something that belongs to my family. That stone belongs to Starkhaven… not to you."

The dark-haired woman looked up to him. "I don't know what you mean."

His concentration did not shift. "You told Hawke you went after a stone, where is it now?"

Isabella's eyes swung to the sleeping form mere feet away from where they were, before returning to angrily meet the archer's stare. "I don't know, I had other things to worry about."

"I don't believe you." He stated simply.

The pirate's expression darkened, and Hawke and Fenris tensed. Sebastian seemed unmoved.

"Sebastian, I think she's telling the truth…"

"No, Hawke," he shook his head, "she lied about the Qunari relic, she's lying about this…"

Isabella's eyes rolled… "and again with the relic! When are you going to let that go?"

"When I can trust you again. I am not like Hawke, my loyalty is not so easily regained… and you are doing yourself no favours now in that regard."

They stared each other down, as if willing the other one to break. Hawke and Fenris shared a look of puzzlement before smirking at each other. If it hadn't been for the tension in the room and the scowls across their faces, it might have been a romantic encounter going on between the pirate and the prince. Although the swordswoman thought better of encouraging them to kiss…

After moments that seemed to stretch into hours. Isabella groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers and closing her eyes. "Ugh, I'm too hungover for this. What's so important about a stone anyway?"

"So you admit that you have it?"

"… I didn't say that…"

"But you do have it, don't you?"

"No, I don't. And even if I did have it, it's my plunder not yours." She told him firmly.

The archer seemed taken aback, though the fire in his eyes did not fade immediately. Rather it lingered, as if he were trying to decide if she were telling the truth. The moment he realised that her stance was not shifting, his shoulders seemed to slump a little and his gaze strayed from her stare to the floor. "Is that so?" His tone was soft again, though now his sadness was plain for all to see. The room seemed to float in his silence for a few moments, all traces of the resolve he had had only seconds before had faded into what seemed despair. He didn't move, just stood and stared.

Hawke looked to Fenris, whose expression seemed softer than usual. She could understand that, after all, more than anyone he knew what it was like to find something again only to have it ripped away. She had never had that experience. Everything she had lost was gone forever, and she had no delusions she was ever going to get any of it back. An image of her mother's face floated into her mind, almost as if her ghost were in the room. Hawke pushed it away, this was not about her losses.

After yet more silence, in which Isabella appeared to have returned to sleep, Hawke heard an irritated grunt, almost as if Sebastian's quiet melancholy annoyed her. "You know… you have some nerve. You barge in here, wake me up to interrogate me over something I am completely innocent of, than you stand around invading my privacy…"

"Isabella, this isn't your house!" Anders voice came from the back room.

The Rivaini ignored him. "And then you have the nerve to play the sympathy card! Look, I don't have the stone… but I did see it. I'll take you to it, if it's that important to you…"

"Then we leave…"

"In the morning…" Hawke cut in firmly. "I'm not risking any of us getting in to anymore trouble... or bandages…"

"And we need rest." Fenris agreed.

Sebastian looked unconvinced, but seemed steadied. "Aye. Then it is agreed. I'll see you in the morning, Hawke; I shall remain here for the rest of the night."

There was a shuffling, and a clink, and the door to Ander's chambers swung open, framing the blonde mage in the door in little but his smalls. His eyes were tired, his shoulders slumped, and his expression unamused. "Oh good… that's just what I wanted to overhear in my own house. Please, everyone take up a bed, come along share my food… hurry Hawke, invite in those Templars that are always hanging around outside, no point in having a party and not inviting everyone…"

"For some reason I'm sensing some sarcasm in your tone." Fenris quipped; although the amusement at Anders frustration was evident by the small smirk across his face.

Hawke shot him an annoyed frown before looking back to the mage. "Calm down, Anders; as… 'cosy'… as your clinic is I still think I'd prefer my own bed, thank you very much."

"Indeed," the elf beside her snorted, "you couldn't pay me to sleep here."

"You couldn't pay me to have you." The blonde man bit back.

"Great. Right, well now that we've finally established that you two don't like each other," the blonde swordswoman interceded before the bickering could escalate, "perhaps we should all get some rest?"

"Agreed," Isabella replied immediately, slumping back to her original position on the table "last thing we need is an even grumpier Tevinter fugitive…"

"It's been a while since I've had an evening be so… strenuous." Fenris grunted, as they made their way, yet again, to Hightown.

"I suppose this has been a bit more draining than smashing wine bottles against the wall." Hawke huffed out; it wasn't just the hour that burdened her enthusiasm, the amount of running around she and Fenris had done had done her no favours… and to think there was probably a battle waiting for them on the dawn… it wasn't a pleasant thought. Not on what would only be a snatched amount of sleep.

"Actually I ran out of wine… now I just stare at them…"

"The wine rack?" She queried confused.

He gave her a strained look. "The walls."

"… you really know what it means to 'live on the edge', don't you?"

"You are all the excitement I need."

He probably hadn't meant it as it came out. He probably meant it perfectly innocently. But that didn't stop the blood from rushing to her cheeks and her heart skipping.

No. She wouldn't do this to herself.

"Well I suppose all the blood and guts we wade through could be described as 'exciting'…"

"… that's not what I meant."

The blonde was sorely tempted to ask the elf what he had meant, even though she knew it wasn't a good idea. It wasn't like he was about to declare his undying love… and to be honest, given how their relationship had been on such shaky ground recently, she wasn't sure how she would feel if he did.

"Yes, well, this is my stop," she nodded gratefully towards the mansion, "I'll be sure to provide sufficient excitement for you tomorrow... with any luck... See you at the clinic bright and early."

He gave her a doubtful look, one almost of scepticism. "Hawke, you don't honestly think she didn't take that stone, do you? Isabella is nothing if not predictable in her... well..."

"Fenris." She cut in sternly. "Isabella said she didn't take it and I believe her. That's the end of it."

"Your faith, as always, is admirable, enough to move a man... but I cannot help but wonder if it is always as well placed as your intentions."

The blonde felt her anger fizz... this coming from him? "Perhaps you're right, perhaps I should be more picky about who I put my trust in." She bit back. Though as soon as she had she regretted it. The hurt look that crossed his wide eyes was enough to ensure that. Though it did not quell her annoyance or her discomfort.

"Hawke...I just... I worry..."

This wasn't fair. He had no right to say these things... or rather he did, but she didn't want to hear them.

She spun on her heel and made for the mansion. "Well don't. I'm not yours to worry about."

…...

Although he was desperately tired, Fenris could not sleep. He cursed himself.

As much as he tried, he could not fight the affection that he felt for her. As much as he tried to stay away, his feelings just came spilling out sometimes. It wasn't fair to her. To keep her at arms length when all he wanted to do was embrace her. It was one thing to be conflicted himself, but to cause her confusion...

She deserved to be happy, but in spite of his best intentions all he seemed to bring her was sadness. It hurt him more than he could ever say.

More than anything he wanted to see her smile, and more than anything he wanted to be the one to make her. More than anything he wanted to kiss her again, and feel her skin against his and take her in...

But what fantasy was this? That he could deserve her? Perhaps it would have been better if she rebuffed him when they first met? What right had he to such happiness? What right had he to think he could be the one to make her happy?

"Venhedis!" He sat up. Perhaps it would have been better if they'd spent all night walking, then he wouldn't have ended up alone in these blood and wine stained halls, wallowing in nothing but his own misery and doubt.

So many times, he had come close to telling Hawke exactly how he felt. So many times his own fear had won out. Fear over what she would say... fear over what Danarius would do if his love ever became known to his former master...

He groaned... he wasn't much of a drinker... unless Varric had anything to do with it... but suddenly he was wishing that he had some wine left...

…...

Hawke swore as she barged through the door. She took pause, waiting for her mother's angry form to burst from her chambers and give her a good telling off for all the racket she was making at such an hour... instead all that emerged was a weary and worried looking Orana.

Somehow, it all seemed so impossibly empty.

They had come to Kirkwall together, and now she was alone. She had always fought for everything she had, yet now... it didn't seem enough.

"Mistress! I've been waiting for you."

"You didn't need to do that, Orana."

"But, your meal!" The girl objected.

"Wrap it up for me. I've an errand to run in the morning and I may be gone a while." She moved to climb the stairs. Orana made no such motion however, instead she stared at her mistress, eyes wide, lips pursed... as if holding in what she wanted to say but it may cause her to burst. Hawke groaned, "spit it out, already."

Mistress, if I may... you've barely been home since... since..."

"What of it?"

"It's just... I worry..."

Hawke glanced at the closed door to her mother's chambers. She felt a lump in her throat. "We deal with grief in our own way, Orana, some cry..." She gave the elf a weak smile that wouldn't even have fooled Merril, "I bathe in the blood of my enemies..."

"I still cry for Papa..." The young woman reflected quietly, though the utterance didn't go unheard by the blonde as she ascended the staircase. Yet, as much as Hawke knew the elf was probably in need of comfort too, she couldn't bring herself to give it. She slid to the floor as the door gave a satisfactory click behind her, tears falling silently down her cheeks.

I'm sure he misses you too, Orana.

…...

Unsurprisingly, Hawke did not find much sleep. She was waiting for the sun to come up. Her armour seemed heavier than usual, but it was a welcome change to the tears that she had worn the last few hours. She sometimes wondered how much of 'Hawke' was left behind the plate she wore.

By the time she pushed her way out of the door, armed with her sword and whatever new vile concoction Orana had thrown together, there was a chill across Hightown and a stillness that the blonde welcomed. She thought better of calling on Fenris... after all she hadn't been overly pleasant at their parting last night. It was probably best to allow him space.

Ironic really... once she had felt closer to him than anyone else, yet now the distance between them seemed to yawn like an open cavern. Hawke rebuked herself silently. There was no point wishing on what once was... or what she could never get back...

"Hawke..." A stern voice interrupted her thoughts.

Not now. "Aveline! Well isn't this a pleasant surprise!"

"No time for pleasantries, Hawke... where are they?"

Hawke blinked. "Who?"

"You know who!"

"I hate to point this out Aveline, but if I knew 'who' I wouldn't have asked."

"That drunken trollop and that insufferable, preaching..."

"Isabella and Sebastian? Ander's clinic, why?"

"No they're not." The Guard Captain told her sternly, "a few of the guards I posted in Darktown saw a shifty pair running around... matching their description... I thought you had this in hand, Hawke?"

"I do... well... I did... well... look, I'm allowed to sleep, aren't I?" Hawke enquired, a little irritated by her friend's accusatory manner, although being honest she should have been used to it by now. "Besides, what makes you so sure it was them? I'm sure there's lots of people who look like..."

"The woman was swigging from a hip flask while complaining about a hangover and the man with the bow was asking the Maker for strength in his hour of need..."

"Well... I suppose that is rather conclusive." The blonde conceded.

"Hawke!" Another voice called her name, but this tone was far more urgent than Aveline's. Anders, swiftly followed by Varric... their expressions etched with worry. They came to a panting halt when they reached the women, a crumpled note firmly in the mage's grip.

"A love letter... for me? Anders, you shouldn't have... though it isn't really traditional to give them in person..."

"It's a ransom note." The mage huffed out, as he thrust it in her grasp.

"Seems the Rivaini and Choir Boy were in no mood to wait for back-up... we only get them back if we give them the stone."

"Well that's just stupid..." Hawke snorted, as she and Aveline examined the letter, "why would they trade us the person they set up the trap for for the bait they set it up with?"

"Perhaps they never intended to lose the bait... maybe it is as valuable as Choir Boy said." Varric offered. "But what I don't get is where did the stone go... did the Rivaini hide it or...?"

"She said she didn't take it."

"Oh please, Hawke, you don't believe that..." Aveline's eyebrow sprung to above her fringe. "I have to keep an eye on the cutlery whenever she comes near the Barracks..."

"Always the suspicious one, Aveline... and that was one time, let it go already..."

"Point is," Varric cut in, "Hawke has a point. The Rivaini did say she didn't take it... but more importantly, do we really think she'd let it out of her sight if she had something that shiny? But, if she didn't take it then..."

Hawke caught Varric's eyes the minute the realisation took him. "Isabella wasn't the only one in that hideout. And Merril wasn't conscious when Sebastian was asking about the stone... she probably doesn't even know what it is."

Varric smirked. "Never took Daisy as the pick-pocketing type."

"Well technically it's not pick-pocketing, and maybe she learned from the best..."

…...

It had been decided fairly quickly that, given the note had been left at Ander's clinic, that is probably wasn't a safe place for Merril to recover... especially with her being an obvious target for the enemy. Aveline had retrieved some off-duty clothes from the Barracks to serve as a disguise for the mage... not that Merril was in much of a condition to argue. Still unconscious as Donnic had picked her up, all she had managed since her ordeal were confused words and croaks calling for water.

"This feels wrong." Anders grumbled as he reached into the various pockets in the elf's clothes.

"Interesting... did you say that when you took her clothes off?" Hawke queried with a sly grin.

A furious blush rushed the healer's cheeks. "I had other things to focus on... besides, there's not much Merril has that interests me..."

"Oh, I'm sure she has two..."

"Hawke!"

"Honestly, Anders, calm down... Varric's taken her to the Hanged Man, it's not like she can hear you..."

"No, but I can hear you. I wonder how Fenris coped with you sometimes..."

Hawke tensed, but then reminded herself that his response had been somewhat provoked. "There was no coping involved, he walked away remember...?"

Anders' blush had gone, instead now he wore more of a wince, "I know. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that."

"Forget about it." Hawke forced a smile, "He certainly seems to have. Besides, there's plenty more fish in the sea... or so I'm told..."

"...do you mean that?"

"Well yes, I'm sure there's plenty of fish in the sea... that's where 'fishermen' go after all..."

"Hawke," his softened tone almost demanded her attention, "do you mean it?"

It was Hawke's turn to find the blood rushing to her cheeks, "I suppose I do."

His smile made her smile in return. "That's good to hear. I've been worried."

The blonde rolled her eyes... "Maker! Fenris, Orana... you...why does everyone always worry about me?"

"Because I care. Perhaps more than I should." His gaze lingered with her, a gaze that Hawke pretended she hadn't noticed as she rummaged through the last item of Merril's gear. Though when she risked a quick glance her blush intensified when her eyes caught his.

"...Anders, are you trying to flirt with me?"

"I don't flirt, I state facts."

"Oh ok... Anders, are you 'stating facts' at me?"

His shrewd smile told her all she needed to know. "Maybe I am."

If Hawke had a response it was taken by the triumphant call of delight when a small, blue stone fell from Merril's pouch. "I do believe, we have found our stone." When she held it to the light to examine it, it didn't seem much, and it wasn't even big enough to fill the palm of her hand, but when Anders reached out there was a flare of light.

Although it made the two jump with surprise, once Anders withdrew the stone fell still once again. "Well, safe to say it reacts to magic. So, where are we supposed to make the trade again?"

Hawke gave him a weary look. "You don"t actually think we're going to trade this do you? Do you want one of Sebastian's arrows in your neck?"

…...

"Weeeell, isn't this cosy." Isabella gave a strange smile as she stretched and leaned back against the wall.

The archer gave her a strained stare. "I believe we have different definitions of 'cosy'." He snorted, raising his manacled arms to prove his point.

The pirate chuckled, "speak for yourself, I rather like being in chains... though admittedly this isn't my preferred setting for them..."

"I'm not asking..."

"Are you sure? I've got some good stories..."

"Maker, help me woman, do you never stop?" Sebastian groaned irately, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

She blinked, "occasionally, but only when I've drunk too much to keep going."

"Isabella, please... just... stop talking... I need to think..."

It was the thief's turn to give a dissatisfied grunt. "Look, there's no point taking it out on me. It was your idea to go without the others to avoid Aveline getting involved... What's so important about the damned stone anyway?"

"...That's none of your concern."

"Is it not? And here was me thinking I was chained to a wall in some thug's cellar because of it..."

"It belonged to my father, that's all you need to know for now. I'll explain more when we get out of here."

"Hmmm... Hawke is taking her time coming to the rescue..."

She fell silent when she noticed his annoyed expression. "Hawke shouldn't have to come to our rescue. But still... I hope she has realised enough that trading the stone for us would be a mistake..." His annoyed look gave way to concern, his ice blue eyes narrowed as if in thought.

Isabella sucked in a breath. She wanted to say the right thing, a rare thing for her to offer comfort rather than goading, but she honestly didn't know what that was.

If she were honest with herself, she didn't know what Hawke would do... even she had lost track of where they were. With the trail running cold, would Hawke trade the stone to save her friends? And even if she did, she doubted very much that the mercenaries would let Sebastian go as part of such a parley... given that he very much seemed the target of this scam...

She forced a smile. "Relax! You know Hawke... she knows better than to deal with thugs..."

…...

The room was well lit and warm, a far cry from the cool night air that had now descended on the courtyard outside... although the heat and stench from the unwashed men that idled around the room was a less than welcome addition.

The dark-haired woman steeled herself and willed her irritation to hiss between her teeth as she sighed in aggravation.

How much longer would she be forced to wait? It was bad enough the idiots had attacked the wrong quarry, but to lose the damned stone?! Were she not of such a calm temperament, the men she had entrusted with the task would not have walked away with their throats. But time had taught her that mercy could result in a more interesting conclusion than wiping the blood from her blades, it could lead to the force that drove a man to success... especially when she had taken pains to explain exactly what she would do should they fail again. And those... descriptions... had been no exaggeration. It was one thing to make themselves seem the spineless buffoons they were... but it was entirely another to make her look the fool.

It had been sheer luck that tracking the pirate woman had led them to the fugitive King... the man was a turncoat, and even if the cloth he now claimed was that of religion, his faith was not a comfort to the people he had abandoned to tyranny. It almost made her angry for them. The Chantry he had denied all his life was now the sanctuary he clung to in the light of his family's defeat.

Such cowardice.

But these were not her concerns. Getting the stone back was. As well as dealing with the unforeseen complications that had arisen.

Ija cast her mind back to all those years before, remembered that shoddily equipped blonde carving her way through the company's ranks like they were butter. The strength of her form, the savagery of her attack. She had almost been tempted to step in and take the woman down herself had her master not forbade it. He had told Ija to watch and to wait. Let's see what destiny will do, he had said. It had irked her at the time, that he had seemed almost interested in that girl.

She smirked drily to herself, Champion now was it? Destiny indeed.

Ija was pulled from her thoughts as the panting man came to a halt at her table. His face red and slick with sweat. It was with some amusement that she noticed every other daft sod in the room had fallen silent and still, awaiting the orders that would follow the man's report.

"The woman... Hawke... she's agreed to an exchange..."

Ija's eyebrow arched doubtfully, "She has..? Let's hear the conditions... I don't doubt that's all there is to it..."

"It is, Mistress! Tomorrow at dusk... in Hightown..." He thrust the now thoroughly crumpled paper in her face. She snatched it away swiftly, scanning the words quickly.

No. There was no possibility that this would be as simple as it seemed. Her only stipulations were 'unharmed'... Hawke had to know they wouldn't trade Sebastian... she hadn't even requested the trade on scene... unless they were planning something more... underhand?

But how? They couldn't have found this base...

Ija smiled to herself. A game is it, Hawke? Very well... let us play...

…...