Chapter Eighteen- The prince of Starkhaven.

"Maker preserve their stupid, stupid souls."

Cannot honestly believe I've gotten this far but just thought I'd warn you guys I've been sorting moving into a bigger house. But don't worry, I've wrote in advance so hopefully my dear beta will aid me in keeping you guys updated. (I know she will, and I love her for it.)

Much love, to my beta Enchantm3nt, for her amazing help and sending me subways via the internet. You are a talented beta! :3

This is mainly for the guys who haven't got the game yet! Hope you enjoy it, I know everyone else will be too busy!

Thank you so much for my reviews, follows and favourites! :3

Blessed are they who stand before
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter,
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just,

Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow,
In their blood the Maker's will is written.

Prayer always had a way of calming him, of giving him clarity and peace of mind. It may have taken him many years to find that peace, and indeed to find the Maker at all, but now that he had he had never felt more content, that was, until his family had been murdered. Now prayer only gave him a momentary reprieve from his need for answers, for justice. He shifted slightly from his crouched position at the foot of the holy statue of Andraste and was about to return to his prayers when he heard the familiar clack of leather boots walking past him. He turned, and glanced at the owner of said boots, she was a small woman, her white hair tied high on her head in a messy bun. She always came to the Chantry to see the orphans, carrying that lute of hers and a small brown sack. But whenever he had tried to speak with her she had always vanished from sight, disappearing into the shadows. She was a mystery to him.

And yet he had heard the children whispering her name, gossiping quietly about her, wondering when her next visit would be. Little Alexander had even told Sebastian that she often brought them chocolate, but when questioned further they had all kept their chocolate smeared mouths shut, scared that their hawk would stop visiting them. That did not stop him from speaking with the Grand Cleric about her often, though.

The Grand Cleric had approached him some time back, when he had first seen the mysterious woman, giving him a knowing smile in return. "She is not quite the monster the locals make her out to be, is she Sebastian?" she had said, and that had been the first time Sebastian had realised just who the white-haired wonder was. He had heard the stories circling around the Chantry and out in the streets, the children might call her the hawk, but to just about everyone else she was simply Hawke. And not so simply Hawke was a dragon tamer, an ogre killer, a giant of a man, seven foot tall. He had laughed for some time after that as he realised that Hawke was simply a woman, a very charitable woman at that.

He had planned on engaging with her the next time she visited the orphans, but she had walked to the orphanage too swiftly, ignoring him entirely. In a moment of what he could only describe as annoyance, he got to his feet and decided to wait at the door, he would ambush her on the way out, his curiosity and pride demanded it. There was also the matter of wanting to thank her for all that she did for the children, he had never seen them so happy in all his time at the Chantry.

He could hear the muffled sounds of a lute playing on the other side of the doors, and the shrill sound of children laughing which put a smile on his face. He was not good with children… no matter how hard he tried he could not keep their attention for very long, perhaps it was because his childhood was so different to their own, growing up in a castle of all places, but he liked to think he at least understood what it was like to not have parents, now that his were gone, and even before that he had been cast aside, sent to the Chantry, unwanted. Regardless, he was glad that at least someone was able to make them laugh and talk with them.

He heard Hawke laugh amongst the children who squealed in delight at whatever she was doing.

A woman who enjoys the company of children and takes delight in hearing them laugh, not exactly a dragon taming giant.

Then again, appearances could be very deceiving. Only his accent gave away that he was from outside of Kirkwall, his armour may have been a slight giveaway to his birth as well, but he rarely wore that inside the Chantry walls, opting, instead for plain brown robes. He had given up almost all worldly possessions from his old life. He was a sworn brother of the Chantry now… but every now and again he would remember his life as a prince, would remember his family, and the castle, and would think of all that had been lost, taken. There was a side to him, the side he had locked away, his youthful wildness, his disobedience, his passion and his thirst for trouble, that kept rearing its ugly head. Deny as he might that he wasn't that man anymore, it was a part of him, it was still who he was to a certain extent. Only a heartless man would not want vengeance for the murder of loved ones. But as a brother there was little he could do. And therein lay his problem, his mind was at war with what was right and what he wanted. Harder and harder was it for him to find his inner calm, he could not simply ignore or forget the transgressions done unto his family. He would not.

Worse still, his pride had been hurt when his entire family had been murdered and yet not a single assassin had been sent to finish him off along with them. He had been cast aside by his family, left in the Chantry to rot for all they cared, the forgotten prince. Even his enemies had forgotten about him, or just didn't care, perhaps they didn't see him as a threat. But surely if they planned to cease the throne for themselves he was still worth taking out? However, he was also relieved, relieved he still had his life, relieved he was not dead with them, relieved he had not been targeted. But he had so many questions. And very little in answers.

The door opened, making him jump slightly, he opened his mouth to greet Hawke but she beat him to it.

"Good day, your highness," she said nodding her head slightly.

"I- yes it is a good day," he said, his words fumbling together in the shock of her actually speaking to him.

"I saw your notice, on the Chanter's Board the other day, and I would like to inform you the deed has be taken care of," she said, her tone business like as she stared up at him.

He drank in the view that was Hawke as he processed the information she relayed to him. He found it incredibly unnerving that such a dainty woman could achieve such a task, for starters. Hawke looked somewhat small, fragile even. Yet her moon coloured hair with a dripping crimson streak gave her the air of mystery. A few years ago and Sebastian would have jumped on this woman in a heartbeat; he knew it to be true all too well. Even now feelings were swimming in the back of his head. His old friend lust had begun to whisper in his ear, followed by passion. He mentally waved them away as he tried to reply with a coherent sentence.

"I thank you, Hawke. I would have done the deed myself, but I have other ties that would be severed if I did," he said, his eyes darting around the Chantry.

"I understand, but those men were monsters and I have no fear of condemnation from the Maker," she said almost a little too boldly considering where she was currently standing.

"The Maker does not condemn us, he merely punishes us for our misdeeds," Sebastian said, defending his Maker to the death.

"But does that not mean the innocents are condemned for the misdeeds of the guilty? Or do the darkspawn know who's been naughty and who's been nice?" Hawke countered, her eyebrow raised.

"I apologise if I have insulted you Hawke, it truly was not my intention. You seem to make the children's week when you visit them," he said, trying to stray away from the topic of religion. He could tell Hawke had an argumentative witty streak that would have him almost cursing. He enjoyed listening to the debates that people had with each other, he found the banter something to relish in, even if he could not do it himself these days.

"No offense has been taken, your highness. I would not stop seeing the children over such a thing," she replied, her eyebrow raised in amusement that she had given off the impression to him as someone who was easily offended. Hawke was not what he had expected, he had always envisioned her as a huge man for starters, but he had also imagined her with a fiery temper that could obliterate an entire army.

"I am glad, so many forget the children these days. There is too much havoc in this city," Sebastian said, looking into her bright green eyes, "but I can take a guess and say that there will be much more havoc in your homeland at the moment," he added, noting her pale Ferelden skin.

"Indeed, your highness, there is. But I find their presence to be quite fun to be around, nobody really gives children credit these days," she said, her voice laced with wit and kindness entwined.

"Innocence is a rarity," Sebastian agreed, looking towards the door where he could hear the children not so slyly listening to them speak, "but the Maker blesses them with you, Hawke,"

"The Maker shall not bless me, for he knows who I am. Indulge me your highness, but should you not seek out your home now that you are the last of your line?" Hawke asked, curiosity plain on her face.

Her unorthodox reply to his compliment unnerved Sebastian but also confused him, but he had no time to ponder it as he answered her question, "I do not think it wise to go after such riches; I am a no longer a prince, Sebastian will do just fine as I have sworn myself to the Chantry," his answer was brief, for if he explained his true origins and reasons for being here, she would think he was nothing more than a harlot in male form.

"Well Sebastian, I hear that those who do not seek power are the ones who are worthy to wield it," she replied, her lips pursing as she said it.

"But those who do not accept it are sometimes the wisest of men,"

She looked amused for a moment, as if she thought that only she could read books in the entirety of this city. Sebastian couldn't really blame her for that, Hawke was a smuggler and worked jobs where killing was second nature, so no doubt she would not be amongst the well-educated groups of people.

"I find it rare to find someone who has such good taste in literature," she mused, pushing her fringe back to her ear so both of her eyes were on show.

"So do I, books grant great freedom," Sebastian agreed, running out of things to say.

"So do you wish for me to see if I can pick up a lead as to who hired the flint company?" she asked, changing to a new topic before the conversation got awkward. It seemed Hawke was naturally confident when it came to speaking amongst strangers.

"If you would be so kind as to do such a deed for me, I would pay you for it, of course," Sebastian said, shocked that the woman would so freely offer her aid.

"Well, I shall get my contacts to do some digging, but I cannot promise much. Obviously killing off an entire royal family took someone of great skill to commit such an act," she said, her eyes grim.

"Oh I wouldn't be surprised, my family were extremely arrogant about such matters," Sebastian said more to himself than to Hawke.

She didn't reply to his comment, maybe she found it a bit odd that someone would speak about their own blood in such ill terms; maybe she just didn't want to know. She gave him a nod instead, as an acknowledgement to his statement.

"I shall let you know when I have a lead, either way I shall see you next week," she said, about to take her leave.

"Next week?" Sebastian questioned, puzzled.

"Yes, when I visit the children. You don't have to skulk in the corridors you know," she said, with a knowing smile and walked off.

Sebastian found him staring at her as she sauntered away and even when she had left he remained staring at the door. He was awoken out of his daydream by a small child, tugging at his arm.

"Brother Sebastian, William would like something to eat now," the small girl chimed up to him. She was called Lilith, Sebastian knew her parents before they had died only a week ago of the wasting. He looked at the girl in confusion, her older brother William had also contracted the wasting like his parents, and from what the physician said he had not looked good, he could not even drink water his body had deteriorated that bad. They had given him a day at the most.

"Lilith, you know your brother is very sick, don't you?" Sebastian asked the young girl, wondering if it was some feverish childish fantasy where she would pretend he would be better tomorrow.

"Oh he was, but when she came today she made him all better with her shiny fingers," the little girl looked up at Sebastian with a serious face. Sebastian's stomach dropped as if it had been hurled off of the top of the Chantry itself. His face whitened and he did not even concoct a reply to the girl, merely rushing to where the orphans played and slept, his eyes seeking out the young lad who had been so close to death.

He found William sat on the edge of his cot, his feet swinging up and down the bed. He was still pale, but not as deathly as he looked a few hours ago. He had a big smile on his face as he looked up at Sebastian and for a moment he thought his drink may have been spiked earlier that day, or he was having a very odd dream.

Without another word to the orphans who were staring at him he bolted out of the room, fear and shock wriggling in his abdomen like yesterday's meal. He should have known what she was, what her statement meant. The laws were simple, and not to be broken. Her act of kindness would be her undoing. He practically jogged up to the Chantry stairs where the Grand Cleric stood, replenishing the candles on the grand altar with new ones.

"Grand cleric, I have a matter that will need the urgent requirements of the Templars," he said as he neared the old woman.

Elthina looked up at Sebastian with knowing eyes, as if she had seen the entire even take place. She asked him in a quite collected voice, "Explain yourself Sebastian,"

"I believe the woman that visits the children –Hawke- to be an apostate," he said quietly, although there was no one else around. The other brothers and sisters were doing their duties in the garden, the only other people here were the children, and they already knew and adored Hawke.

"Are you certain of this Sebastian, I would not like to cross Leandra Amell if this were a mistake," Elthina said, her wrinkled eyebrow tilting on one side.

His mother always said that the Amell's were the best out of the nobility in Kirkwall.

Elthina continued, "Especially someone that has already done so much for this city, to accuse someone of such a thing, especially someone of a reputation as hers,"

Sebastian looked into Elthina's eye and knew she was fully aware of what Hawke was, but both he and Elthina knew the good she did for the city, and what she had done for the boy today. They had requested a Circle mage but the Knight Commander refused to let one come to their aid, stating that the mages were under assessment and not to be disturbed. Sebastian sighed, he knew truly in his heart that Hawke was a good woman; one with pure intent and not one to grew weary and agree to the offer of temptresses.

"I must have been mistaken, you are right it must have been a coincidence, forgive me for my brashness," he said, making the old woman grin slightly.

"I've heard she is friends with a healer, maybe he was there with her," Elthina said, her eyes wide telling him to play along.

"Indeed," Sebastian said, leaving her with a small bow.

He looked back at the door where Hawke walked out of, and looked back at the Grand Cleric who smiled at him widely, as if reading his entire thoughts. He took his leave and ran out the door searching for the woman to at least thank her and assure her secret was safe. He scanned the stairs and the small square at the bottom with keen eyes, wanting to assure this woman that her kindness would not be repaid with her wrists clasped in chains. But she was nowhere to be found, even with his keen rogue vision he could not find her. He looked out into the small square at the bottom of the Chantry, deflated by her lack of presence.

Next week it is then, Hawke.