Thank you to everyone for reading my story, especially those who made it a favourite! And a special thank you to those who reviewed, I wasn't expecting such nice comments! I hug you all in spirit, unless you're not comfortable with that, in which case I offer you an appreciative handshake. In spirit. I hope you enjoy the next instalment! It's also a bit dramatic, but if you've read up to here, then you know what you're in for. Enjoy!
xxx M xxx
The sun always seems to shine more brightly in Hightown, somehow, but I don't know why, exactly. Perhaps it just seems that way because of all the shiny jewellery the nobles wear. They all look so pretty, in their fine silks and satins, like a swarm of colourful butterflies; I just can't help but watch them as they glide gracefully around the square in front of the Viscount's Keep. I see some of them are staring back at me, now. Oh, dear, they look a bit cross. Why do they make themselves look so nice if they don't want to be looked at? I must be missing something again. Isabela is looking at them too, though she does it out of the corner of her eye while pretending to look at something else and they don't seem to notice. Maybe I should try that?
"Don't even think about it, Isabela," Aveline warns suddenly, and I jump. Oh, so that's what she was doing.
Isabela scoffs, and flaps a hand at her dismissively. "Pfft, relax, big girl. I promise not to steal anything in your almighty law-abiding presence. Besides, it'd be far too easy. No fun at all. I'm admiring a different kind of booty, if you must know." Isabela's head turns as a woman in a tight silk dress sweeps regally past, her amber eyes following her progress down the street.
"All these fine nobles strutting about, swaying their fine noble arses-"
"That will do, thank you," Aveline cuts her off abruptly, her level voice tinged with exasperation, as it usually gets when she talks to Isabela. She is trying to hide a smile, though, shaking her head slightly. "In either case, see that you keep your hands to yourself."
"What if I just can't help myself? Will you arrest me, Guardswoman? Or perhaps you could arrange for one of your burly fellows to cuff me and manhandle me into a cell...mmm." Isabela trails off dreamily, and Hawke laughs, giving her shoulder a friendly push. Aveline sighs wearily.
We keep walking across the square, crossing into the Chantry Courtyard, following Hawke's lead, as usual. Isabela is walking next to her, with that - that sort of swaggering thing she does when she walks. I tried to do it once or twice, but I can't manage it; I just look a bit silly and then fall over. Perhaps I should ask her how to do it properly. Hawke's walk is a bit more purposeful, but also flowing and graceful, giving her hips a slight sway as she moves. She's wearing some very form-fitting trousers today, with knee-high boots and a short blue tunic belted tightly around her waist. She looks very nice. The sunlight is in her hair, and there are bits of gold gleaming through the black strands, like shooting stars in the night sky... I realise I'm staring at her, and feel myself getting hot in embarrassment. I shake myself out of it. Pay attention, Merrill.
Isabela's banter with Aveline made me think of something I keep forgetting to ask her, which I almost forgot again while I was watching Hawke, just now. I turn to Aveline as we walk behind Hawke and Isabela, craning my neck to look up at her face. She's so tall, even for a human.
"Why don't you ever arrest us, Aveline?" I ask curiously.
She looks down at me sharply. "What?"
I almost lose my nerve; sometimes her expression is so stern she looks just like the Keeper, if the Keeper was really tall, and had red hair, and round ears, and no vallaslin. Her green eyes, while not quite the same shade, are just as sharp and serious though, and I start babbling nervously, as I always do.
"We break the law, I'm pretty sure. Rather a lot. And there seem to be laws for almost everything in Kirkwall. You're not a bad guard, are you? Like the ones that keep attacking us when we come here at night?"
Her eyebrows draw together, and her frown could rival the Keeper's. "No!" Oh, dear. She didn't really think I meant it, did she?
"That's good, I didn't think so. But then, why do you let us get away with so many things? Is it because you're fond of Hawke? I kind of am." Creators, still my wagging tongue.
"How very nice for you," she replies shortly. Now I've made her cross, too. I always manage to say the wrong thing. "Keep it to yourself."
"I'd rather keep it with her," I say quietly. At least, I thought I did, but Hawke, still walking with Isabela a pace or two ahead of us, turns her head towards me and gives me a warm smile. There's a funny feeling in my stomach all of a sudden, and my face is hot. I'm blushing again, I know it. Wonderful.
Aveline stops us near the Chanter's board, her gaze on falling a kind looking, dark-haired guard as he walks past the steps to the Chantry. "A moment, Hawke, I just need to speak to Donnic- uh, Guardsman Donnic - for a moment. I won't be long."
"We'll wait here. Please, take your time. I'm sure whatever dire and dramatic problem Anders has this time can wait a little longer." Hawke replies, grinning. I think Aveline looks a little embarrassed, though I can't imagine what for. She heads over to the guardsman, catching his attention and walking with him a little way. She's wearing that stern expression; is he in trouble? He seems pleased to be talking with her though, so maybe not. Isabela is gazing hungrily at the nobles again, seemingly oblivious to all else; otherwise I'm certain she would have had something to say about it. Well, as long as she's happy.
Hawke is leaning casually against the vine-covered wall next to the steps, arms crossed, watching Aveline and the guardsman. I wander over towards her and her gaze flicks over to me. She smiles, and reaches out with one arm, and I lean against the wall next to her as she throws her arm around my shoulders.
"How's my favourite Dalish elf this morning, then?" she asks, giving me a quick squeeze. I smile up at her. She's so kind.
"Very well, thank you, Hawke. It's so nice in Hightown, isn't it? How do they keep it so clean?"
Hawke gives a wry grin, glancing over to the Chantry sister standing by the notice board. "The Maker, in His infinite wisdom, doth send His rain to fall upon fair Hightown; for to washeth all the dirt and filth and garbage into Lowtown, where it doth belong, by His decree. Thus let the poor, downtrodden, and huddled masses rejoice, for they have been blessed with the leavings of their betters. So let it be."
"Is that one of the verses from the Chant of Light? It's not quite as pretty as some of the others, is it?"
Hawke laughs. "It was a joke, Merrill." Oh. Well, of course it was, Merrill.
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's alright. It wasn't a very good one, anyway." Her face grows serious as she looks down at me.
"Did you sleep alright last night? I know you said you'd be fine, but I really would have stayed another night if you needed me to."
I have no words for how wonderful it felt, yesterday; waking up next to Hawke with her arms around me, sheltering me, knowing she stayed the whole night with me in my rat-infested hovel just to make me feel safe. I would have felt terribly if I'd made her do it again, though. "I know you would have, but I didn't want to be a burden. I slept fine, Hawke. Thank you for asking."
She squeezes my shoulders again, shaking her head a little. "You're anything but a burden, Merrill."
"You're too kind, Hawke. I'm alright, really. Thanks to you. I did sleep well. No more dreams." Well, that was almost true. I had no more bad dreams, but I did dream of her. Not now, Merrill. Focus. I frown, suddenly, and study her face. There are shadows under her eyes. "You look a bit tired, actually. Did you sleep badly?"
A startled look flashes across Hawke's face, but she quickly replaces it with a wry half-smile. "Guess I was just worried about you. Or maybe I just can't sleep well without you next to me."
I know she must only be teasing, but I get that funny feeling in my stomach again. I hear myself giggle nervously, and cringe inside my head. "I am fine, Hawke, really. You don't have to worry about me."
Hawke opens her mouth to say something, looking unconvinced, but before she can a voice from behind her interrupts.
"You, there! Fereldan. I wish to speak with you." A fancy looking man is standing in front of the stairs to Darktown, beckoning to Hawke imperiously. Hawke glances over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow, then lifts her arm from my shoulders and pushes off the wall, sauntering over to him with a nonchalant air. I follow along behind her uncertainly, and Isabela joins us. I suppose she thinks that this might be a bit more interesting than ogling the nobles.
"I've heard you have dealings with certain...elements...in the city. You've certainly made quite a name for yourself amongst the members of the Red Iron mercenary band, or so I hear. You can get things done, "on the sly" as they say?" The man says, looking down his long nose at Hawke, a slight sneer on his face. She crosses her arms and matches him stare for stare.
"That's a fancy way of putting it," she says insolently, a trace of amusement in her voice. The magistrate continues as if she hadn't spoken.
"I find I have need of someone possessing your... special talents. My name is Vanard. I am a magistrate of this city, and as such there is a small, albeit important, task that I would hire you to perform. A man I sentenced to a life in prison has escaped custody. He has been tracked to a ruin outside the city. He needs to be recaptured immediately."
"A request that should have been made of the guard," Aveline says disapprovingly as she comes back over to join us.
"What was this man's crime? Why is there such a clamour to catch him?" Hawke asks.
"He's escaped. That's reason enough to catch him," the magistrate says evasively. Hawke narrows her eyes slightly.
"This sounds too easy. We're both intelligent people. There's something in the ruins, isn't there?"
"There is something, yes," he admits. "There are...creatures...inhabiting the ruins. I don't know what kind; I've never seen them. The guards I sent are ill-equipped to deal with such beasts; they tell me that a whole company has gone in after the criminal, but none have come out."
"I have heard nothing of any guard detail being ordered to deal with this. On whose authority were they sent? Why did the request not come to the Keep?" Aveline demands, brows lowered dangerously.
The magistrate draws himself up haughtily. "On my authority as a magistrate, I requisitioned the unit personally."
"You can't just let the creatures take care of him? Seems like the simplest solution. Dangerous criminal gets eaten instead of guardsmen, the city is safe, the beasts get a free meal; everybody wins. Well, except for the criminal, of course," Hawke quips. The magistrate doesn't seem to appreciate her humour, though. Or maybe he just doesn't realise she's not being serious. I can't really blame him; after all, I don't always get it straight away when Hawke tells a joke, either. I think I'm getting better at it, though. A bit.
"I believe in justice, Fereldan, not unbridled slaughter. I will not let prisoners be eaten just because I don't want to get my hands dirty," the magistrate snaps.
"If this is what you consider a small task, I'd hate to see a large one," Hawke says, a little sarcastically. "Why don't you just send more guards? Surely a bigger company would do just fine."
The magistrate shakes his head. "No. The more guards who know, the easier it is for this to get out. Those people gossip like old fishwives." Aveline glowers at him, and I wonder that he doesn't burst into flames on the spot.
Hawke is looking at him with a doubtful expression. "Seems like it would be more important to apprehend him than worry about a little public embarrassment over his escape. If he's dangerous enough to earn a life sentence."
"The more time you spend plaguing me with foolish questions, the more time he has to make good his escape," he replies shortly. "Three sovereigns if you bring the fugitive in, but only if he's alive. Dead, you get nothing. Do you want the job, or not?"
Hawke rubs the back of her neck uncomfortably, probably weighing up the need for coin for her expedition against the risk of such a dubious task. She sighs eventually, and nods once.
"Alright, I'll do it."
"Good. Bring the fugitive in, quickly and quietly. Not only will you be well-paid, you'll have the gratitude of a city magistrate. Useful, for a refugee, don't you think?"
Hawke gives the man a suspicious glance over her shoulder as we walk away. "There's something...off... about this."
"I agree. I've heard nothing about it. Why keep it so quiet? I understand not wanting to cause a panic, but why did he not involve the whole guard through the proper channels?" Aveline wonders.
"It is a lot of coin, though," I pipe up, trying to see the positives. "Three whole sovereigns for putting a dangerous criminal back in prison, and we don't even have to kill anyone! People, I mean; I know we'll probably have to kill some of these creature things, whatever they are. I wonder why no one told the magistrate what they look like."
"Dead men tell no tales, kitten," Isabela says, grinning at me fondly.
"Oh. Right, of course. Well, whatever they are, I'm sure we're more than a match for them!"
Hawke laughs. "That's the spirit, Merrill. You're right. Kill a few creatures, capture a convict, and be back in time for drinks at the Hanged Man, three sovereigns richer. Nothing to it. Let's just quickly check in with Anders, and then be on our way, shall we?"
"It's all fun and games until someone raises the bloody dead!" Isabela yells, wrenching her dagger from the skull of a skeleton archer as Hawke destroys the last of them with a well placed fireball. "I thought the bloody giant spiders were bad enough. Who's pulling these bony bastards out of their graves? Do you think this murdering swine is a renegade mage, to boot?"
"I don't feel any raising spells, or any other magic; at least, nothing cast with purpose. I don't think a mage is doing this," Hawke says. Her eyes are still blazing with barely contained fury, as they have been since the merchant elf, Elren, told us of the criminal's crimes at the entrance to the ancient ruins outside the city. My heart twisted at the pain in his voice as he spoke of his daughter's capture and death at the hands of the fugitive now cowering somewhere within the ruins, and I could hear the answering rage in Hawke's voice as she promised to tear his throat out herself; coin be damned.
I haven't been able to say much since we entered the ruins. What this man has been doing to elves, and children at that ...well, it would have been dreadful enough hearing about it at any time, but so soon after... after what happened the other night...
Hawke takes my hand suddenly, squeezing it briefly before she lets go. She always knows how to make everything alright.
"What do you think, Merrill? Why are the dead being so lively here?" Hawke asks me as we continue down the crumbling passageway. I think about it for a moment.
"Hmm...Well, I suppose...You know that many spirits in the Fade wish to escape it by possessing a living host and controlling them?" She nods once. "Well, this place is ancient, and full of echoes of death and pain, from throughout the Ages and... more recently. We would call it setheneran; a place where the Veil is thin. Just like the caves on Sundermount. It wouldn't be hard for a spirit to reach through the barrier to look for a body to control. With so many living bodies wandering about the ruins all of a sudden, it must be very tempting to those in the Beyond. But of course, as creatures from a realm so completely alien to this one, they can't distinguish between the bodies of the living and the dead."
"That makes sense," Hawke agrees. It really is nice to have another mage to talk to, who understands such things, without the need for lengthy explanations all the time.
"So, just to clarify for us non-magical people; a bunch of crazy demony spirit things from beyond the Veil are accidentally possessing dead bodies, when they're really after us?" Isabela asks, raising an eyebrow. Hawke and I nod.
"And once they're inside the dead body, they're stuck, which drives them mad," Hawke says, looking down at a skeletal corpse at her feet, "Thus the mindless, unrelenting, and somewhat unimaginative attacks."
"Right. Good to know. Let's hurry this up then, can we?"
We start down the now-deserted corridor again, moving cautiously but as quickly as we can. We've lost a lot of time already, what with being jumped by several groups of giant spiders, not to mention the undead just now, which may have given the child-killing monster enough time to escape, and start again elsewhere. I am rapidly losing sight of the positive aspects of this task.
"Hawke," Aveline says quietly as Isabela picks the ancient lock on a door standing obstinately in our way. "When we find this man, do you really intend to just kill him?" Hawke turns to face her sharply, eyes flashing.
"The man targets elven children, kidnaps them, kills them, and no one does anything about it," she replies angrily. "It's been going on for years, Elren said. How many children has he murdered in that time? Maker knows why he only got a life sentence instead of a hanging. I don't know what that magistrate was thinking. He should have had him executed. The man is a monster. He deserves to die."
Aveline looks at her, her face calm and composed. "I don't disagree. But perhaps, if he's willing to talk, you should hear him out."
Hawke lifts her eyebrows incredulously. "Hear him out? What, you think he might have a good reason for what he's done? What could he possibly say to justify such crimes against these elves?"
Strangely, Aveline's eyes flick from Hawke to me, briefly, then back again. "I'm just saying, all we have to go on so far is what we've been told; we haven't seen any evidence. Instead of killing him outright, let's hear the man out when we find him; get the story from all sides," she says, staring at Hawke with a pointed look in her eyes. "Before we go about taking the law into our own hands."
Hawke is silent for a moment, staring at Aveline, expressionless.
"Fine," she says eventually, her voice curt. I can't help but feel that I'm missing something again.
A loud click echoes around us, and Isabela lets out a satisfied laugh. "Hah! Gotcha. We're good to go, girls. And Aveline too, of course."
Aveline rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Shut up, whore."
Hawke brushes past her and heads through the door, striding quickly down the passageway and around the corner. I follow after her hastily, Isabela and Aveline on my heels. We turn the corner after Hawke and stop short. Hawke is crouched on the ground next to a dark haired elven child, who stares around at all of us with frightened eyes. Is this... could it be Elren's daughter?
"Who are you? Please, can you get me out of here?" she cries, clutching at Hawke's arm. "I just want to go home."
My heart leaps into my throat at the fear in her voice. "Everything's going to be alright, da'len," I say, stepping forward and smiling at her reassuringly. "Don't be afraid. You're safe now."
"Lia?" Hawke says, gently helping the child to her feet. "Your father said that you were dead."
"My father? Is he safe? Kelder said he'd hurt my family if I didn't come with him..." the girl said tearfully, gazing up at Hawke.
"Who is Kelder?" Hawke asks gently.
Lia looks down at her feet. "The man who took me."
"This must be the scum we're after." Isabela says grimly.
"Where is he, little one?" Aveline asks, her voice kind.
Lia turns and points behind her down the passageway. "In a room back down there."
"I'm just glad we found you alive," Hawke says, smiling in relief. "Are you hurt? I don't see any injuries. How did you escape him? Kick to the groin? Sand in the eyes? Rock to the head?"
Lia tilts her head at Hawke, a faint look of uncertainty on her face. "Kelder? No. He...he let me go." Hawke lifts her eyebrows in surprise, but doesn't interrupt as she continues. "I tried to make it to the entrance, but I hid when those... creatures showed up. I thought I heard him calling for me. I almost went back to him, I didn't want to be eaten, but Kelder, he...He hit me, told me I was nothing. I begged him to stop hurting me..." Her voice fails her as she gives a little sob, and I reach out to the child, hugging her close. She holds on tightly for a moment, then looks back to Hawke. "He stopped himself. I didn't think he would but out of nowhere he pushed me away and just started crying. Don't you see? He didn't mean to hurt me! He told me! There are demons, they make him do these horrible things!"
Hawke closes her eyes, rubbing at her forehead. "Brilliant. I'll have to remember to use that. 'A demon made me do it-'" she mutters to herself.
Lia obviously hears her, though, because she suddenly bursts out: "But it's true! How else could he do something like this? Please..."
Hawke stares at her with a stricken look on her face. "I'll...try to show him mercy, Lia. But Kelder is dangerous. If he gives me no other choice, I can't promise he won't get hurt."
"He won't fight you, I promise," Lia said earnestly, letting go of me and moving to stand before Hawke, looking up into her eyes.
"Run to the entrance," Hawke tells her. "Your father is waiting there. The way is clear now, but hurry."
Hawke turns to Aveline as Lia runs down the passageway out of sight. She doesn't say anything, just looks at her. Aveline sighs quietly.
"Alright, Hawke. But if he wants to talk, just hear him."
Hawke shakes her head and moves on. "He'd better talk fast. And it'd better be good."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cut you down before you draw another breath," Hawke snarls, a look of utter fury and hatred on her face as she stares down at the man sitting on the ground, leaning his back against a pillar.
He looks slowly up at her, then suddenly stands, moving towards her. I take an involuntary step back, and Hawke shifts slightly to stand in front of me, although I don't think she quite realises she did so.
"Do it. Kill me. Slit my throat. That's the only way the whispers will stop," he says rapidly, staring wildly at Hawke. "I was hoping the beasts down here would kill me, but they haven't found me yet. I asked my father to do it, but he wouldn't." Hawke stares at him in mute surprise.
Kelder notices her look. "He didn't tell you, did he? The magistrate is my father. He's tried so hard to keep me - and what I've done - hidden away," he says, looking down at his hands.
"I'm disgusted by the both of them." The repulsion in Aveline's voice mirrors the expression on Isabela's face. There's an audible growl in Hawke's voice as she glares fiercely at Kelder.
"He's ignoring his duties. The magistrate is supposed to protect the people of the city. And that includes the elves."
Kelder glances at her, then away. "Father is a good man. He tried to help, to stop me, but he couldn't. No one can. That elven girl; she had no right to be so beautiful. So perfect. The demon said she had to be taught a lesson, like all the others." Hawke stiffens visibly, her hands balling in horror and rage. I feel an icy fist clench in the pit of my stomach. Oh, may the Dread Wolf take you, you unimaginable monster. The man stares at Hawke, the whites of his eyes shining in the gloom. "The circle was supposed to help me, but they lied! They said there were no demons, that I was mad. This isn't my fault." I thought Hawke looked furious before, but it was nothing compared to the expression that twists her features at Kelder's horrific words.
"Let me get this straight. You torture, rape and murder elven children for being - too beautiful?" Her voice is low but fierce, echoing through the chamber in its furious intensity.
Kelder swallows, and falters under her livid gaze. "I...I didn't want to hurt them. They force me! The demons don't like it when they cry."
Hawke growls deep in her throat. It is a terrible, gutteral sound, and I pull my gaze away from Kelder's face to look at her in concern. I understand how she is feeling - I feel it too - but however hateful the actions of this man, Hawke would despise herself if she reacted now out of blind, uncontrolled rage. She's not like that. Not that I believe he doesn't deserve to die, quite the opposite, in fact. But if she does kill him, she should be in control, and absolutely certain of her reasons for doing so. He is not worth a crisis of conscience. I take a half step forward and reach out to her, laying my hand gently on her arm. She starts and turns her head to look at me. Her eyes soften, and she takes a deep breath, then gives me a small, grateful smile, before turning her head back towards Kelder, wiping her face clear of all expression.
"Lia said you told her to run. Why did you let her go?"
He starts wringing his hands. "I was ...crying, and she asked if I was alright. After everything I...the demons made me do to her, she was concerned about me. How could I let the demons destroy something so good? So pure?"
Hawke narrows her eyes at him, shaking her head disgustedly.
"And we're back to the 'demons', again. I doubt the circle lied. They wouldn't risk letting you loose in the city if they suspected a demon at work."
"No! I'm not mad! They lied!" Kelder cries, waving his arms in denial.
"Coward. Doesn't even have the balls to own up to his own depravity," Isabela says, a revolted sneer twisting her full lips.
Kelder's eyes dart wildly about the room, before coming to rest on Hawke. "I can't stop! I've tried, so many times. You have to kill me. It's the only way to stop me!"
"First smart thing he's said," says Isabela, her eyes unforgiving as she stares coldly at the murderer. "Give him what he wants."
"If killing you is the only way to stop you, then so be it. The elves deserve justice." Hawke unsheathes her dagger, and steps forward. Kelder hangs his head, arms at his sides.
"Just tell my father I'm sorry...for everything."
Hawke's temper finally snaps.
"Must you be so dramatic?"
She slashes his throat and looks down at him expressionlessly as he chokes out his last breath on the cold stone floor of the ruin.
Aveline's eyes are on Hawke's blade, and she has a frown on her face, looking between Hawke and the gaping wound in Kelder's throat. She isn't mad at Hawke, is she? She can't think Hawke was wrong to kill him, not after everything we've seen and heard. "Some people are simply broken," Aveline comments eventually.
Hawke nods slowly before she wrenches her gaze from Kelder's body and turns her back on him, motioning for us to leave. We turn to follow her without a word, and walk silently back through the ruins.
A heart-warming sight is waiting to greet us as we finally step back out into the sunlight. Little Lia is clutched tight in her father's embrace, her head resting on his shoulder as he holds her to him joyfully. Elren raises his head and opens his eyes slowly, gazing at us in wonder.
"You... you saved her! My little girl... I didn't dare hope!" He looks at Hawke, and his voice intensifies. "Did you find that monster? Is he dead?" Lia turns in his arms, twisting her head to look at Hawke worriedly. Hawke glances at her, something almost like apology in her eyes, then nods to Elren.
"You don't need to worry. He won't harm Lia, or anyone else. Ever again." Lia blinks once, her lip quivering, then she drops her gaze, staring down at her feet. Oh, da'len, you don't understand. Elren gently lets go of his daughter so that he can move forward to look Hawke in the eyes.
"I didn't think an elf could ever get justice in Kirkwall. I speak for all of us when I say that we are in your debt, serah." He offers a gold sovereign to Hawke, pressing it into her hand when she tries to refuse it. "Please, it is the least I can offer you. For my daughter's life, I thank you." He bows his head, and turns to leave, beckoning to his daughter. Lia lifts her head and stares at Hawke for a few moments, then quietly turns away and follows her father out of the clearing. Hawke gazes after her sadly.
One of the guards who have spent the whole time loitering uselessly outside the ruins steps towards her, shaking his head.
"Ignoring the magistrate's orders is madness, stranger. I feel just as bad for these knife-ears as the next man, but-" Hawke whirls suddenly and grabs him by the collar, slamming his back into a nearby boulder.
"For future reference, following up declarations of sympathy with a racial slur isn't particularly convincing, guardsman," she growls into his face.
Aveline pulls her away, a startled look replacing her usual calm demeanour. "Hawke! Enough. Carry on, guardsman." The man stumbles away, a cowed expression on his face . Hawke sighs and rubs a hand across her forehead, looking a little ashamed.
"I'm sorry. I'm just... angry."
"I understand." Aveline says quietly, but there is still concern in her eyes.
I gaze after the guardsman as he disappears around a bend in the road. "Do you think he'll give us trouble? With the magistrate, I mean? Kelder was his son, after all."
"I'll speak with the guard back at the barracks, but I don't think he'll say anything now," Aveline says, glancing briefly at Hawke, who looks away. "Besides, the magistrate has been abusing his position. He can't cause trouble for us without revealing his secret."
"Well, I can certainly use a drink after all this excitement," Isabela says.
Hawke gives a small laugh, and flashes her a quick grin. "When can't you use a drink?"
Isabela punches her shoulder, smirking. "Come on, let's get out of here. If we hurry, we can make it to the Hanged Man before Corff runs out of the pigswill and starts serving the rat piss," she laughs as we start walking back towards the city.
I wrinkle my nose. "Ew! He wouldn't really serve that, would he? Why would anybody drink it?"
"The degenerates who frequent that dilapidated booze-hole wouldn't know the difference," Aveline says derisively.
"Hey! I live there, you know." Isabela shoots a glare at the guardswoman.
"I stand by my statement."
Isabela laughs. "Ooh, good one, big girl."
Aveline and Isabela lead the way out of the clearing, exchanging good natured insults back and forth, and Hawke drops back to walk with me, slipping her arm around my shoulders as we head back to Kirkwall.