"I hired you because you could get things done 'on the sly' as they say," Magistrate Vanard told Hawke. "I was not aware that included your opinion as well."

Hawks eyes softened as she spoke to the older gentleman. "If you stop pretending nothing's wrong, maybe you can help him." She moved in closer, lowering her voice so Aveline didn't hear her words. "I won't talk," Hawke assured him. "But he is known. How long will it be before they connect him to you?"

The magistrate looked down on her, being several inches taller. "I am not going to lose my son," he answered with such ferocity Hawke took a step back. "I will protect my family no matter the cost Ferelden," he called her. "I have a feeling we are quite similar in that regard. Would you do any different?"

"You're right," Hawke admitted. "But my family doesn't slaughter innocent elves and then claim the demons made them do it."

"You think you know it all, don't you," Vanard shook his head at her. "If you tell a soul about my son," he spoke in a threatening tone, "I swear I will make things very, very difficult for you here in Kirkwall."

"I am not your enemy Magistrate," she assured him. "But should Kelder escape again, I can not control what may happen to him. Keep him safe, and get him help." She spoke softly once more. "He begged me to kill him; he wants to die. You very well may lose your son, but by his own hands."

The harsh threatening expression on Vanard's face disappeared at her last words, and he held out the gold for her assistance in silence. Hawke didn't accept however; she offered a sympathetic nod before walking away.

Dearest Father,

I have heard of mages that hear demons telling them to do horrible things. But today we met a boy no older than I am who claims demons force him to harm elven children. Kelder, the son of a powerful magistrate here in Kirkwall, told me of his obsession with elves and their beauty, and his constant need to slaughter them.

His father had sentenced him to life in prison; no one in Kirkwall even knows they are related. But the boy escaped, and I was hired to find him and bring him in. When I found him he didn't even run; all he wanted was for me to kill him. I saw a sadness in his eyes I had never seen before Father...it was clear he was suffering a great deal. Odd that I'd have any sympathy for such a murderer, but I wasn't going to be the one to take his life. Regardless of his crimes, who am I to decide his fate?

"Great ancestors, a Prince! Here in the Hanged Man," Varric called to Sebastian as he stood at the bar ordering more drinks. "A little out of place for all that fancy armor, don't you think?"

"Varric was it?" Sebastian questioned as the dwarf nodded in reply. He laughed at his own appearance. "I suppose I am a little overdressed. I've just come from the Gallows and was hoping to have a word with Hawke before returning to the Chantry. Might she be here?"

Varric grabbed the mugs of ale and nodded towards a corner table. "She might," Varric mocked his fancy speak, "though not sure how many words she can put together right now. Rough day," he added quietly as they moved towards the table where Hawke sat alone.

She lifted her head from her empty glass as Varric approached, and immediately the heat of the drink and embarrassment flushed her cheeks. Of course he'd pick today of all days to be here. Slightly inebriated though, Hawke quickly didn't care. She grabbed a mug out of Varric's hands before he could even set it down and drank some more. "Prince Vael!" she cheered raising her glass. "Come celebrate with us."

Sebastian waved off Varric as he offered him a drink. "What is it we're celebrating?" he asked.

Hawke's expression turned somber as quickly as it lit up. "My friends hating me," she told him as she took another large sip.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he removed his bow and set it aside, slipping into a seat next to Hawke. "Somehow I doubt anyone could hate you," he told her honestly.

Hawke chuckled her disbelief and waved her hand towards Varric. "Go on storyteller," she encouraged the dwarf. "Tell the Prince the tale of my woes."

Varric leaned back in his chair so the two front legs were raised as he rested the back against the wall. "Our fearless leader here accepted a job for a magistrate to recover a fugitive. Turns out the fugitive is a delusional serial killer who prays on the weakness of young elven children and says that the demons made him do it."

"He was an apostate?" Sebastian asked with a hint of distain.

Hawke turned to look at him. "Why ask that? Do you hate apostates?" she asked suddenly a bit more sober.

"Varric mentioned demons," Sebastian stated innocently. "One could only assume he was a mage fugitive then."

Hawke searched his face for a deeper meaning but couldn't see anything past his deep blue eyes. Varric noticed Sebastian clearly missed the panicked tone of Hawke's voice so he continued on with the story. "The Circle of Magi disputed his claim, so he said. He's just nugshit crazy."

"And your friends hate you why?" Sebastian asked again.

"They wanted me to kill him," Hawke whispered sadly. "Even he wanted to die, but I couldn't do it. I don't know why I couldn't, I've killed before...I've even killed for you," she reminded Sebastian. "This man begged me to take his life, end his suffering and save others from his deeds and I refused." The drink caused her rambling to become nearly incoherent. "Everyone dies eventually right? That's for the Maker to decide and yet I've done it countless times already. Except when it matters, when it's necessary to protect innocent, now if other elves die because he got out again it would be my fault and they'd be right..."

Varric straightened his chair, allowing the sudden thump of the legs returning to ground to snap her out of her tangent. "I think you've had enough Hawke," Varric said as he pulled the half-full mug away from her. "Maybe it's time we get you home and in bed."

"I can take her," Sebastian offered as he stood, extending his hand towards Hawke. "If you'll allow me to escort you home?"

Hawke forgot all about what she was just saying and looked up at the prince. "You want to take me home?"

Sebastian smiled as he helped her stand. "I'd feel better knowing you were safe and resting in your bed, yes," he told her. She watched as he secured his bow along his back and extended an elbow for her to hold on to. "M'lady?"

Hawke turned to Varric and smiled sheepishly as she linked arms with Sebastian. "Thanks for listening Varric," she said before they left the Hanged Man.

Varric grabbed her unfinished drink and consumed it, shaking his head at how oblivious the Prince really was. "You're welcome Hawke," he said to no one but himself. "But you're going to hate me in the morning!"