"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. You want to do what?"

Varric was leaning forward on the big table dominating the big room that was something akin to his office, living room and home in the largest suite at the Hanged Man, one Garrett was sure the dwarf had somehow had custom made for his own use. Maybe he put together three normal apartments by knocking down some walls? Seems a lot of work when he could have gotten a fine place at Hightown...then again, Varric is quite the unique character, no doubt he enjoys living in Lowtown. Everything in the apartment was disjointed and rough. The table was as crude as those you'd find down at the bar, only larger. There was a harp in a corner, casually thrown up on a frayed silk cushion, a few tin cups stood atop a cupboard, dented. Bianca was in a glass casket hanging on the wall, beneath which a half-assembled model ship lay, seemingly thrown aside without a care for what might get broken. Varric's coat hung on a peg to the far left, next to it stood a human-sized mannequin with several bolt-sized holes across its surface. The only sign of Varric's dwarven heritage – besides his stature – was the chair he was sitting on, an ornate and clumsy thing of carved stone no doubt inherited from Bartrand...and now improved with a series of cushions to keep between the man and the hard rock.

The man himself looked like he usually did, though actually a bit bigger without his coat on, for without it one could see his muscled arms – made even bigger by him leaning his elbows on the table – and broad shoulders, the coat having made him look leaner than he actually was. The vest he wore underneath his coat was nearly completely unbuttoned, and left most of his chest and all of his arms bare. He was still hairy, still smiling...smirking even confirming that actually he had heard Garrett...looking no worse for wear after the trauma from the Deep Roads expedition, from the hardship and loss.

Garrett found himself slightly jealous of the man.

Still, it was good to see the dwarf. Between his mother's fussing about the Reinhart party, their shared grief over Carver's decision, another expedition to the deep roads, deals with minor merchants and the meetings of the council of nobles...it was nice to sit down and speak to someone less inclined to frustrate or trick him. Someone to trust, who you can rely on. Garrett caught himself smiling at the man, making the dwarf, still waiting for a reply, arch an eyebrow. "What? I got something on my face?"

"No, I was just imagining that you're finding my idea a little bit...odd." Garrett replied with a smile, leaning back in his own chair and brought his tin cup filled with a far too fine wine for its container to his lips. After a careful sip – he didn't trust Varric when it came to wines, the dwarf always picked the stronger things – Garrett shrugged. "I suppose it looks out of character for me to wish to start a criminal gang."

"Just a little bit, friend."

"But I've thought it through."

"Of course you have." Varric rolled his eyes as Garrett cocked his head to the side, shooting Varric an amused look at the condescending tone of the dwarf...who just grinned back. "What? I'm agreeing with you." Mimicking Garrett, Varric leant back in his chair and took a sip out of an equally dented mug, eyes closing briefly as he enjoyed the drink before he focused back on the human. "I must say though, I'm dying to hear this, I thought you went legit long ago? Not to mention that you're far too rich to need to commit crimes for a living, or did I hear incorrectly about your successful expedition? And the next coming up soon? Or of the merchants in town not affiliated with any other noble lining up in front of your doorway day and night?"

"I don't intend to create a gang out of a desire for money." Garrett grunted, annoyed that the dwarf would even consider such a possibility. If I wanted more money, I'd just perform tax-evasion like all the other nobles. Before him, Varric arched both eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. "It's...complicated, but essentially I wish to correct things illegally which I cannot deal with legally." The eyebrows sky-rocketed. "Look, have you been to the councils between the nobles? Heard of what goes on in them?" Garrett growled the question, angry at the very thought of it. A waste of time, as it is right now. "Because it's not much."

After taking another sip of his cup, Varric put his hands behind the back of his head, eyes fixed on Garrett. "I'm all ears, Hawke."

"Take taxes, for instance." Garrett took a deep breath, the grip on his own cup tightening as he remembered his last meeting. "In Darktown, there's no one to tax, for they have so little, that's five hundred thousand, half the bloody population. Then we have Lowtown, where Dumar has to send guards with his collectors and have such difficulties taxing a people already making so little that while the taxes hurt them – I would know – they barely make a profit for the Viscount."

"Well...sure, those parts of town aren't exactly brimming with money." Varric replied, sounding a little confused. "But the merchants are the gold of the city, are they not?"

Garrett shook his head with a sigh. "Judging by the level of taxes, one would think that the merchants are the major target of taxes, they're supposed to be taxed every time they enter the city, after all. Yet most of the larger merchants are a noble's client or employee, making them not only taxable by the noble standard, but also making it a monthly tax...guess how many of these merchants are in the city at the allotted payment day? And minor merchants can't compete with this if they follow the rules, so without a noble as their protector they turn to the Coterie or other gangs to smuggle in their wares, or they sell them outside of town, or they wait for religious holidays when they're not allowed to be taxed...after all that, there is precious little left for the Viscount to spend."

Varric, now sighing as well, offered a knowing smile. "Leaving the nobles?"

"Yes...the nobles..." Garrett shook his head, rubbing his temple. "Let's just say that putting a group in charge of taxing themselves leads to low taxes...surprising, huh?" And Dumar is too weak both politically and as a person to bring them to order. "I tried to argue recently for constructing at least a few cobbled roads in Lowtown to benefit some of the merchants in town, the other nobles nearly rebelled at the cost! It would help them, you see, but also help other nobles and merchants not their own...and we can't have that, can we? Somehow there's this perception that a benefit for all is you losing out, because it helps others as well." Garrett's head dropped into his free hand, the man almost getting a headache at the mere thought of it. "Oh but then we also need to add the Chantry to the works!"

"Oh dear."

"Did you know that not only do they get a tenth out of every citizen – a taxing they do better than the Viscount, by the way – but they also take a tenth out of the taxes the government makes?" Garrett put down his cup, afraid he'd break it as he thought back to the infuriating and all too confusing papers he'd looked through. "Oh but it gets better, because once the taxes gathered are in the treasury, they're wealth...so why not take a tenth out of that too? Dumar wishes to invest in something? A tenth out of that surely should go to the Chantry. Salaries to government officials and personnel? A tenth there too, please. Dumar's having breakfast? Well we bloody well send the Chantry one of the eggs..."

Varric tilted his head back and exploded into a laugh. "Good one!" Then, just as quickly, he looked back to Garrett, though he was still grinning as he spoke. "Though that still doesn't explain why you want to start a gang..."

Garrett sighed, shoulders slumping. "Do you have any idea how much the protection money to the Coterie costs?" Varric arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Of course you do...anyway, everyone pays them, or the smaller gangs 'owning' the territory someone lives in or where their storage is. Nobles and merchants, private people, they all pay them extraordinary amounts, then they have the gall to complain that crime is rife and they're losing shipments to pirates and bandits..." Garrett grunted, shaking his head. "Kirkwall is a place where crime generally pays...yet if I were to suggest raising the number of guards, they'd chew my head off!" Of all the frustrating, if I was in charge... Garrett found himself grumbling, glaring at the table. It's bad enough to see such terrible wastefulness and planning, but to be unable to do anything about it...

"Ah, so you want to..." Varric chuckled as he connected the dots. "You want to create an illegal police!?"

"Not sure how well that would go down with people ready to sign up to gangs, they naturally shy away from words like 'helping' and 'protecting'..." Garrett frowned, stroking his chin, the stubble there slightly shorter than normal since Leandra had managed to corner him two day ago. "...but if they think it's just another gang, one with a new...'business model'...then that's a different manner."

A hum escaped Varric, the dwarf looking down at the table between them. "One that has extraordinary low fees for protection...?"

"And who actually protects their clients, not just from their own, but all gangs, bandits and murderers..." Garrett agreed, nodding and joining the dwarf in looking at the table, gaze following its veins as he recalled his plan. "Who offers good pay and equipment to their people...even hires on the lowest of the low..."

"...keeping them from turning to other crimes when not at 'work'..." Varric muttered. "...making entire areas of Lowtown, maybe even Darktown, safe..."

"Areas that could be properly renovated by an entrepreneurial noble, a noble buying such slums cheap, who then creates cheap housing that many can work from and afford to pay rent, without constantly in fear of losing it all or to have their savings stolen..." Garrett grinned, the idea that had been percolating in his brain sounding nice to his ears.

"That's a great idea." Garrett looked up, finding the dwarf grinning at him. "You want me to set this up? Using my contacts to find people willing to join a new gang? Nice steady payment and equipment? Sounds easy enough...though, between the poor income from low protection fees, and equipment and the people in Lowtown unable to pay much in rent, even in bulk, I'm not sure what you gain from this...?" The dwarf smirked. "Or do you intend for me to pay for the gang?"

For a moment, Garrett considered it, suddenly sure the dwarf actually would agree to it...then he shook his head. "No, I'm not about to use your money, that wouldn't be right. But you have the connections, the know-how to set things up via middlemen and without leaving a trace...if I give you enough money, do you think you could do this?"

"Of course! Who do you take me for, an amateur?" Varric grinned, then hesitated. "Though...you do realise that the Coterie doesn't appreciate competition, right? Especially competition that seems ambitious...and there's no way to conceal the fact that such a gang would somehow get funding elsewhere...Coterie leaders would get...curious."

Garrett smirked back. "I thought you said you weren't an amateur?"

"Ohhh..." Varric touched his chest, feigning pain. "That was a mean one! You know I pride my ability in playing the game of shadows. Ah, very well, I'll check around, see what the cost might be for a small starting gang, then we can talk again." He leaned forward, cocking his head to the side. "You still haven't said exactly why you'd want all this though...is it just you wanting to actually do what the council should be doing, but by other means?"

Garrett grimaced. "Partly, I hate to see this...waste. Kirkwall has so many people, is supposedly so wealthy, yet I personally know how poorly most have it. This is not only sad, but makes my city – and by extension, the Hawke family – look bad, as if we can't take care of the city we claim to be part of ruling." He shook his head. "There's also the problem of unrest and that doing nothing would be...hypocritical."

"Huh?"

Looking down at his hands, Garrett sighed, a little uncomfortable, but willing to speak as long as he didn't look at the dwarf. "I'm sure Isabela told you about how I once refused to give the poison I secured for a friend of hers back to him?"

"I have a...vague recollection, it was some time ago, to be fair." Varric's voice was attentive, almost curious, egging Garrett on.

"My argument was that by keeping it out of the man's hands, I'd protect not just people, but my own kin. Because every action that reduces the danger for a group, reduces the risk of the individual." Garrett sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I know better than to sit idle until disaster strikes, I believe in being pro-active, in making a danger never occur in the first place, or only after the utmost consideration." Garrett grimaced, the memories of old times now stained with blood. "In Lothering, I knew people were curious about the sister they almost never saw. So I spoke of sicknesses, I depicted her as a rough and angry person no one should want to know...I made them not want to see her. I kept reminding Bethany of the danger there was if just one person found out about her magic...I studied alongside her not only because I enjoyed it, but because I didn't want her to get lonely...I minimized the risks of disaster striking."

"Err...not to criticise you or anything..." Varric awkwardly spoke up, hesitating before he continued. "...you don't think that was a bit...harsh? I mean...do you remember how she smiled at the start in the Deep Roads...? I hadn't seen that before..."

Garrett's hand dropped from his nose, body tensing in anger for but a moment, only to relax as he suddenly felt very tired, regret digging into him. "I...yes...I...gave her what she needed, never what she wanted... Worse, I did the same for Carver who...who...I always thought of the physical, never the soul..." If only father had lived a moment longer, I'm sure he would have...would have told me to care for their hearts as well...I'm...sure... He frowned into the table, hating his sudden doubt.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." A moment of hesitation, the dwarf considering his words. "Want to talk about it? About Carver? Bethany? Family in general?"

For a moment, Garrett almost took the offer, then he shook his head, his usual reluctance for anything but the family kicking in. "No...that's okay..." He shot up a pale smile, surprised how he suddenly felt shy. "...maybe another time." Varric offered a kind smile, and then Garrett looked back to the table, too uncomfortable with the subject. "My point is that as long as half the population lives in poverty and with crime as a daily feature in their life, and a majority of the rest is close to being as poor, there is a risk of this crime, maybe the violent kind, affecting my family..." What's left of it. After a moment of hesitation, Garrett found himself adding."...and those I care about."

A chuckle escaped Varric, but he made no comment on Garrett's hesitant final words as he replied. "Well that's really noble of you...didn't know you had it in you."

"Hey!" Garrett looked up, a grin appearing on his face before he'd had a chance to collect himself from the sudden amusement. Varric grinned back. "Well...fair enough, I've never pretended to be a hero like those in the stories..." Pushing himself up to his feet, Garrett was pleased to find his footing solid, Varric's potent drink not having managed to affect him. "...no matter what tales some people might have been spreading." Before him, Varric smirked and offered an amused wink. "I'll talk to you later then, friend, always a pleasure."

"Right back at you, my door's always open...surprised more people don't steal from me, actually."

Chuckling as he walked down the set of stairs separating the Hanged Man's apartments from the bar itself, Garrett found eagerness gripping him as the next point of his schedule grew closer. Aveline wanted to see me at the mansion, that'll be nice, been too long since we had a proper conversation...yes...could be very nice... As if to mock him though, Dhavine's ears rang in his ears. "Are you sure she would say yes though? I'm not either, you're not very...charming, and you know it." Garrett's amusement ruined, he gritted his teeth. Demons tell nothing but lies, I should not listen to them.

"Hey!" Garrett jumped, the hand suddenly on his shoulder making him leap to the side, right hand slipping down to his sword and gripping it tight even as his left drew the dagger he kept in his belt. "Whoa! Easy there, champion..." Isabela held up her hands in mock surrender, eyes wide for but a moment. "...wow, have you gotten faster as of late?"

"Spare me your compliments." Grunting in irritation, Garrett let go of his sword, then slammed his dagger back into its sheath. "What do you want?"

"So hostile, that's not very..." Isabela paused, observing the unamused look on Garrett's face. "...okay, I'm sorry."

Noticing the way she stood, almost as if expecting an answer, Garrett arched an eyebrow. "For startling me? Or for trying to be funny? Either way, I don't rightly care."

"What? No." Isabela shook her head, shoulders dropping low as she cocked her head to the side. "I'm sorry about, you know, the thing in the fade..."

For a moment, Garrett just stared at her. "You...cannot be serious." The pirate's expression soured, making Garrett narrow his eyes at her. "You think a simple 'sorry', spoken with the casualness one reserves for bumping into someone, is enough to make me accept your apology?" He scrutinised her, somewhat surprised to find her standing steadily. "Are you drunk?"

Growling, Isabela crossed her arms over her chest. "Hey, I'm trying to apologise here, I'm not very good at it but-"

"That's an understatement." Garrett crossed his arms over his chest as well. "I've already had Fenris try his apology, accusing me of setting things up and therefore risking his soul was not what I wanted to hear." The mere thought of the man's audacity made Garrett grit his teeth. "Yet he at least had some reasoning when giving his pathetic excuse for an 'apology'...so no, a casual 'sorry' is not okay...I want a bloody apology, a good one." He snorted. "Though I doubt you have one in you."

Isabela snarled at the last sentence, yet after a deep breath, she spoke. "I...okay..." A tentative smile. "...but come now...it was just the fade, it was not like you were in any actual danger..."

"You left me in a reality not my own, with a demon...and you think I was in no danger!?" Garrett snapped."Don't make light of this, Isabela, not for a second." The pirate bit her bottom lip at that, a hint of guilt in the back of her eyes...Garrett could only shake his head at the sight. "The worst part? Fenris did it for revenge, yet his entire being seems fixated on that...however bad that is, it makes his choice understandable. Merrill, she did it for her people, selflessly she desired to help thousands...it was a naïve choice, yet the the goal was admirable." Pausing for breath, Garrett let the words sink in. "You, however, abandoned me for a boat."

"H-hey! It's not just any boat! I could see the beauty of it! She's just..." A hesitant laugh escaped Isabela as she struggled to meet Garrett's gaze. "...I just knew she could get it to me, and that it would be so...I don't know...great...and you accepted Merrill's apology, dammit, I asked..."

"Merrill apologised, and did it well. And it's a desire demon, it's what it does." Garrett scowled at the woman. "Doesn't change the fact that you left me to fend for myself over a boat."

"It's not a boat!" Isabela snapped, almost looking angry for a moment, only for her to hesitate again as she looked down at the floor. "It's...freedom."

Garrett blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Oh come now." Isabela gestured at the bar with a grimace. "You think this is me? Constantly in a bar, drinking? Sometimes even paying for them?" She shrugged. "Well...yes...but only when I'm in port, and that's rare."A grimace, and she returned to scowling at the floor, as if the wooden boards were somehow insulting her. "Normally I'm at sea...flying across it with my ship, dancing across waves and through storms..." A yearning quality entered Isabela's voice, her gaze drifting over to the nearest wall, eyes alight with longing as she continued, a wistful tone in her voice, as if she was no longer aware Garrett was even there. "Flitting through the night to escape the gaze of patrol ships and pirates alike. Kissing the horizon on a cloudless day. Feeling yourself melt into the sun itself as it burns down on you, larger than anywhere on land. Feeling as if you're part of the wind as it fills your sails." A longing sigh escaped the pirate. "To do whatever you like, to go wherever you want, and to do that whenever you wish...total freedom..." Another longing sigh escaped her, her eyes closing.

Damn...Dhavine really got under all our skins, didn't she? Sighing, Garrett found his shoulders slumping. "Fine...you're forgiven." Isabela blinked and looked at him, a look of surprise and growing delight on her face. "But only because we move in the same circles, if you'd been just some random person, I'd have cut you loose long ago." Isabela frowned, though wisely held her tongue as Garrett pointed a finger at her. "Shape up, if you keep doing things like this, I'll feel inclined to not only protect myself by cutting all ties, but make sure the likes of Merrill and Varric distance themselves from you too." To his surprise, Garrett found himself meaning the words. "I won't let you hurt them with your inconsideration."

"I..." A protest was obviously on Isabela's lips...but then she visibly swallowed it down, shook her head and looked away, an angry glint in her eyes. "...okay, fine, thank you."

"Quite welcome." Garrett coolly replied, then turned away. "Now excuse me...I have an...appointment."

With steps made eager by both a desire to get away from the pouting pirate as well as reaching Aveline, Garrett moved swiftly.

8

8

8

Right, don't be nervous.

Having chosen to receive Aveline in his office...a room not unlike the library, save that the bookcases were filled with scrolls rather than books, and a somewhat austere lack of decorations that made anyone entering fixing their eyes upon the desk at the centre of the room...Garrett felt somewhat in control. The office was from where he gave orders to Bastile and Bodahn, even Hubert on the odd occasion he needed assistance running the Bone Pit...it was a room within which he was in control.

It was also a room from which it was hard to eavesdrop, which considering the way Gamlen and Leandra had been suspiciously close ever since Garrett had entered his home – one probably just curious for gossip, the other driven by motherly concern – Garrett thought to be a point in its favour.

Sitting behind the desk, Garrett gestured at the servant by the door. "Send her in, Fenn, she'll find me here."

"Yes, serah." The elf elegantly bowed and made a swift exit.

Huh, should get more servants from Orlais, they're flawless, it seems...oh for goodness, sake, focus! Shaking his head, Garrett turned his gaze to the right, noticing Maric's oddly neutral look. "Could you..." The dog looked at him, nose twitching. "...not be here while she's here?" A snort. "What? No I'm not really nervous but I'd rather not talk to her with an audience, you understand, no?" Another snort. "Yes, fine, you can smell me being nervous, it's just..." Garrett sighed. "...stop arguing, I'm not asking you to move a mountain."

Maric made a whining noise while cocking his head to the side...and Garrett frowned back. "I doubt I'll need you, now come on, go, I'm a grown man and can handle talking to a woman on my own."

A final snort, and Maric followed after the servant, his steps stiff. Damn, did I hurt his feelings? Garrett grimaced, living with a dog as intelligent as a Mabari could sometimes be difficult. I'll make it up to him. Taking a deep breath, Garrett brushed the dog from his mind as he focused on the task ahead. Right, she asked to come, no doubt on some errand, so I'll let her speak her mind first. It's annoying how little we've had time to speak as of late, just the odd greeting at the Viscount's Keep, not nearly enough for my tastes, and not enough to give me a guess as to what she could want.

His hands were sweaty.

This is ridiculous.

Maybe I should make a gentle enquiry first? Test the waters?

Or perhaps simply ask her to have dinner, see if she bites and where it could lead? Although...would she understand my intentions? Aveline is intelligent, but somewhat...oblivious at times. She'd hate me not being straight with her though, dancing around the issue isn't her style, and neither should it be mine.

Wish I had some way of guessing my chances though, some hint.

She hasn't really expressed any interest, at all.

Did Fenn get lost or something? Damn Orlesian servants...

Shifting where he sat, suddenly uncomfortable – which was a feat considering the leather coverings of his chair – Garrett shook his head.

You have a plan, idiot. You meet her, help her with whatever she asks, then mention the Reinhart party and, given how you're both invited, you ask if she wouldn't mind having an escort, as befits women on such occasions. Innocent, yet with potential. Don't overreach, don't rush, approach this like anything else, small steps until you reach your goal. Garrett couldn't help but imagine Carver's reaction to such reasoning...and grimaced, both out of the thought of his lost brother, but also because of the reaction he imagined. I'm doomed.

Behind him, the clock Leandra had commissioned by a dwarven artisan ticked on, a frustrating sound that set his nerves on edge. Should I stand or sit? Sit, definitely, in fact, I should be working, not looking like she's the only thing I'm focusing on...yes, I'm sure she'd appreciate that. At random, Garrett picked up one of the scrolls he'd yet to go through on the table, eyes moving over the text, not really seeing it. This is stupid, I should just...

"Hawke!" Garrett looked up in surprise, annoyed with how startled Aveline's greeting made him as with a knock on his doorway she entered. "Sorry, I thought you expected me?"

"I did, I did!" Garrett cleared his throat, then grimaced as he noticed the scroll he'd been holding was upside down, quickly rose to his feet and dropped the scroll onto the table before looking up, offering a somewhat too broad smile as he stretched out his hand. "Come, sit." Unsurprisingly, Aveline was still in uniform, though at least not in full armour. The dress-uniform she wore was a bulky woollen thing though, hiding most of her features, the belt across her waist holding a standard guardsman sword. Which wasn't surprising, Aveline had the right to a better one as the captain, but she'd never use such a right, preferring to share her guardsmens' situation.

Aveline looked somewhat taken aback by the look on his face, but shrugged and took his hand, offering a firm but short handshake before taking the offered chair on the opposite side of the desk...and sinking into it with a relieved sigh. "Ah...wow, felt like ages since I sat down."

"Not doing all your paperwork?" Garrett asked with a nervous smirk, trying to sound casual. "Aveline, I didn't think you'd shirk from duty?"

"I let my lieutenants do the majority, the rest I can do standing..." Noticing his look, Aveline rolled her eyes. "...or while walking on inspections and patrols...the main importance is that it gets done, dammit." She shook her head. "Damn, we're doing it again, just like every time back at the keep, I didn't come here to talk about work. Although thank you for those donations again. Most nobles only give a symbolic donation, yours was large enough to hire on more people, first time in ages, if records are to be believed."

"I believe in doing my duty, same as you." Garrett replied, nodding as he put his hands in front of him. It was the truth, nobles were expected to donate some money to the guard every year, a tradition someone once started, but apparently Garrett was the only one that actually gave more than a gift for the captain or some other frivolous thing when what they needed was hard cash. "Glad it's helping though, the guard is stretched thin as it is."

"Yeah..." Aveline looked around herself, then smiled, something in the way she did it reminding Garrett of their time when they were anything but noble and guard, but something far less honest...and he found himself smiling back. We've come far. "And dammit, we did it again, I didn't come here to talk work." For a moment, a look of nervousness crossed Aveline's face, making Garrett's heart skip a beat. What could she be wanting...? "But before that...are you okay?" Garrett blinked, taken aback by the suddenly question...and the look Aveline gave him was one of uncertainty. "I hear a lot in my work, you're doing well for yourself, lots of earnings, Kirkwall's trade is growing with the new noble, people say. But...well I also heard about...you know...Carver?"

Oh. Garrett felt his gut ache, a phantom pain of the punch his brother had dealt him, and worse, the agony the failure it represented caused him. Leandra...mother...she forgave this easier than Bethany's death, I think...I think she's angry at Carver, rather than me. It's not fair, I was the one who...eugh, what does it matter? We needed Bethany, he and I. Without her...maybe it was just a matter of time? Or if I had actually... The doubts and what if's hounded Garrett, more so at night than during the day when he was working, but the mention of his name...it always brought on the same questions, questions with no answers. "I...respect his decision, I understand that he wants to forge his own path, create his own life and so on."

"Really?" Aveline arched an eyebrow.

Garrett flinched. I'd forgotten how...blunt she can get. "I...don't like it, obviously, but I understand it, yes..." I really don't like it. A Templar? It's spitting on Bethany's memory, of what we all went through to keep her away from them. "But it's his life, as he so eloquently put it..." Some bitterness seeped into Garrett's words, making him force a smile to take the sting out of it. "...and I must accept that." Maybe he'll actually keep his word on that note he left and write mother at some point...I doubt I'll get the same treatment.

"Sounds like bull to me. I can accept him wanting to make his own way, but to go from top to bottom again out of principle alone just seems prideful to me." Aveline replied, then grimaced. "Right, you don't want to talk about it, even I can see that..."

Garrett, still forcing his smile, cocked his head to the side. "Yes...you wanted to speak to me?" By now, all nervousness was gone, replaced by tiredness. I didn't want to start our talk like this...thinking about Carver...

"Oh, yes...right." Aveline shifted where she sat, looking uncertain. "I...please don't laugh or make fun of me?"

Smiling, yet with his heart beating a little faster as the thoughts of Carver were pushed to the back of his mind, Garrett's smile turned more genuine. "Do I usually do that?"

"No, of course not..." Aveline licked her lips, looking away. "...silly of me to fear anything else." She visibly swallowed, and Garrett found himself taking a shaky breath. "It's just...I don't feel comfortable speaking on matters of...erm...the heart." Garrett's heart made a somersault.

"O-of the heart, you say?" Garrett swallowed, trying to sound confident as he continued. "Well...Aveline, you and I have been through a lot, you know that...speak to me."Across the desk, he saw her hand, resting across the desk, close, yet somehow far away...and he reached out.

"Y-yes...I...it's embarrassing to ask for help in courting a man."

Garrett's hand stopped halfway across the table.

Aveline's hands remained on the table, knuckles whitening as she pressed them into the surface, eyes fixed on the wood between them. "I...it's something that...grew...while you were away on your expedition." The expedition...of course. "Not that Donnic's...noticed me...I'm bad at making my interest known, I'm afraid." I know how you feel. "Which is why I've come to you...for help, you know?"

Garrett pulled his hand back into his lap, leaning back into his chair.

Aveline's face shifted from one of embarrassment to one of confusion. "I...well as I said, his name is Donnic, a guardsman...good man...I'm...not sure what else to tell you that could help...erm...if you want to help, that is?" After a moment, she blinked in confusion. "Garrett?"

He coughed, then blinked...before finally waking out of the daze he'd been caught in. "I...well I..." He cleared his throat, struggling not to swallow the lump in his throat. "O-of course I'll help." He struggled to force a smile, feeling the individual muscles tremble. "What are friends for, eh?"

"Yes...thank you." Aveline shot him a curious look, no doubt finding his behaviour off...yet her happiness over his reply made her lips quirk into a smile none the less. "I'm...thank you, I just don't know where to start...how to..well do these things. My marriage to Wesley happened nearly by accident, I never had to...do anything." She shook her head. "I know, it's stupid, but I really feel like I need help...and I know you're smart, so I figured you could think of something..."

Garrett needed only to think for a moment, the idea he had held himself easily changed to fit her purposes. "As a captain of the guard, you are invited to the Reinhart party, correct?" He swallowed, the words hard to speak. "I can invite Donnic as a guest, giving him a reason like...you will dislike being surrounded by nobles, and could use some company?"

"Oh...yes, that will be perfect!" Aveline's face broke into a smile, then changed to uncertainty. "But...what will we talk about?"

"Whatever comes to mind...I can only put you together in a social setting, the rest is up to you." Garrett sighed, suddenly very tired. "If that's all, I'll...set it up, I guess."

"Well...yes, I guess." Aveline shot him a confused look. "Are you okay? You looked a bit...harried? I didn't come at a bad time, did I?"

"I am a little swamped, yes, but it's no trouble, I did receive you, didn't I?" Garrett managed, irritated with the edge of hostility in his voice. "Though...if that's all...?" He let the question hang, not trusting himself to speak further. Head thick, body cold and chest tight...he wanted her to go.

"Yes...I understand, I can take a hint, I'm not blind." Aveline rose with a genuine smile and a chuckle. "You're a good friend, Garrett, thank you."

"It's my pleasure." Garrett lied, rising to take Aveline's hand, their handshake blessedly quick. "Now, excuse me but I hope you could see yourself out? I trust no one else with my paperwork." Garrett forced a smile.

"Ah, of course. We'll talk again soon, I hope." Aveline shot him the briefest of confused looks, then smiled as well and moved for the door, swiftly making her exit, much to Garrett's relief.

The moment the door closed behind her, Garrett sat back down, hands moving up to rub his temples, still a little dazed. I'm such a fool.

Unsurprisingly, Leandra entered a moment later. A quick look at him, and the woman swiftly moved across the room and around the desk to kneel behind him, arms on his shoulders, voice a low mutter. "I'm sorry, son..."

Garrett sighed. "I know, me too." Disappointed.

"Yet you're not as hurt as one would expect." Huh? "I suppose that makes sense, with it being a crush and all." Garrett tensed, making her grip tighten on him. "I'm sorry, but really, what else did you think it was?" Garrett looked down at the table, not daring to meet his mother's gaze, not sure what to say, what he'd do if he looked up. A...crush!? "You and Carver are the same in this, you and Aveline, him and that elf girl...only difference is that Carver has known more crushes than you. Neither of you, however, know the passion, the tenderness and the friendship that is true love...I'm sorry, but it is so, I know this all too well."

She...would know. Garrett well remembered the love his mother and father had shared, it had been a passion and gentleness that he'd seen no one else display. Still, Garrett found himself rebel at the thought, of the thought of him having something so simple as a crush. "But I thought.."

"Yes...you thought it through, you considered, you planned..." A little kiss landed on the top of Garrett's head as Leandra sighed. "My poor boy...that's not how love works, I'm afraid...you saw her as a good match, you saw good qualities in her and thought she'd complement your own...you can't analyse things like that." Another kiss, this time on his cheek. "She's a good woman, I admit, maybe just a captain of the guard..." Just a...oh, right, forgot who I now am. "...but I'd have been glad to see her make you happy...but it was never going to happen, I'm sorry."

"I...suppose..." Garrett slumped in his seat, tired to the bones. "...give me a moment, mother, I...need to be alone for a while."

"I..." Leandra hesitated, though she rose to her feet, her hands remained on him. "...you'll find someone, eventually, okay?" Garrett could offer but a mute nod. "And I don't think I'll be leaving, no, you can sit and think this through later, but right now...I think you need some company." Again, she crouched down, but this time it was next to him, one arm over his shoulder as the other moved to rest on his cheek, forcing him to look at her.

Her eyes were kind, caring, sympathetic...and for once, Garrett didn't feel guilt when looking into them.

"Now give me a hug."

Smiling faintly, Garrett obeyed.

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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being so awesome.