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Hawke sighed and leaned back against the railing of the ferry. "Varric, how much do I care about this?"

"What, more mages and Templars playing games?" He shrugged. "At least they're working together. That seems like progress."

"Yes, but by the same token, if Meredith and Orsino are both worried about the same thing, it's probably something that should be dealt with."

"You're the boss, Hawke."

"Why am I the boss, Varric? You could make these decisions."

"Not with anywhere near your sense of style."

She snorted, watching as the docks came into sight. It was always a relief to have left the Gallows in one piece. There hadn't been an opportunity to see Bethany this time, either. Just a tense and uncomfortable meeting with Orsino where he begged them to save him and his mages from getting in more trouble with Meredith. Hawke was sympathetic to his problem, but she wished she didn't have to be the one stuck in between the two of them.

Still, there was no one else to do it, so she supposed she'd have to.

Aveline, leaning on the railing next to her, spoke up. "Numerous mages leaving the Circle at night. And Meredith thinks she runs such a tight ship."

"And Orsino suspects blood magic."

Varric frowned. "Orsino isn't usually a reactionary."

"No, I know he isn't. So, I guess we go to this meeting in Hightown tonight." She glanced at Aveline. "Can we count on your guards for support?"

"Of course. As long as you stay within the law. If you—or they—break it, I won't look away."

Hawke grinned. "Now, Aveline, don't I always stay within the law?"

"Only because you know I'll clap you in irons if you don't."

Isabela looked up from where she was carving her favorite salacious image on the railing. "You just love to have us all think you're so tough, big girl. I bet underneath you're all soft and silky."

"I'll thank you to keep your thoughts off my underneath," Aveline said stiffly.

"Much too late. Can't help it, you keep it all so buttoned up."

"I'm sorry if I don't flaunt myself the way you do, you hussy."

"Flaunt myself?" Isabela looked down at her short tunic, which revealed as much of her assets as it hid. "This is just who I am."

"And it doesn't bother you to be seen like … that?" There was genuine curiosity in Aveline's voice, as much as she tried to hide it.

Isabela smiled. "Trust me, I've heard 'get away from me, you pirate hag' more times than I care to count."

"Don't you care?"

"Why should I? They don't know me; I know me."

Isabela went back to her carving, focusing on the task. Aveline watched her with more open respect than she typically showed. And Varric and Hawke exchanged glances. The deep affection between the two women had been clear to all of them from the beginning—all of them except Aveline and Isabela. It was nice to see them approaching open friendship at last.

As they approached the Hightown square Orsino had suggested to them as the mages' and Templars' meeting place, Varric hoped this wasn't what the First Enchanter feared. A clandestine meeting wasn't good to begin with, but one with the goal of toppling Meredith had the potential to take down all of Kirkwall with it. Varric was no more a fan of the Knight Commander than anyone else, but there were ways to get rid of someone in power, and open rebellion wasn't the best. It left an awful mess that would have to be cleaned up by the very people most hurt by it.

But, of course, it was exactly what Orsino had feared, and the collected mages and Templars attacked as soon as they saw Hawke and her team coming.

Unfortunately for the mages and Templars, they'd been living a soft life in the Tower all this time while Hawke and her team had honed their skills against every band of mercs in Kirkwall, so it was hardly an even contest. None of their opponents was willing to be taken alive, so the fight was to the death on their side, which Varric regretted. Mercs were one thing—they accepted the risks of the life they led. But these people were just trying to make their lives better. He wished they'd been willing to stop and work with Hawke instead of basically impaling themselves on her blade.

When it was done, Aveline called her guards in to clean up the carnage. "No point in making this public. We'll return their bodies quietly to the Maker and I'll send Orsino a list of the names."

Varric, meanwhile, joined the Rivaini in efficiently rifling through the pockets of the fallen. "Oh, will you look at this," he said, standing up with a torn piece of paper in his hands. "'Meredith has eyes everywhere. Bring anyone who claims to be against her to Gardibali's Warehouse at night.'" He shook his head. "Another secret society, meeting in a warehouse. Do you think the owners charge them rent?"

"Two for one, Varric. Goods and coin. Makes sense to me," the Rivaini said. "It's what I'd do if I owned a warehouse."

Hawke looked around them, frowning. "So I guess we'll break up tomorrow's meeting, as well. I just hope I don't get there and find myself facing my sister."

"Sunshine has more sense than that, Hawke."

"I hope so."

Aveline approached Isabela, holding her hands awkwardly at her sides. "I've been thinking about what you said. About knowing who you are. I'm—I'm the captain of the guard. I'm loyal, strong, and don't look too bad naked."

"I'll bet you don't. So if I call you a mannish, awkward, ball-crushing do-gooder, you'd say?"

"Shut up, whore."

The Rivaini laughed. "That's my girl." She threw an arm around Aveline's shoulders, and, to Varric's surprise, Aveline let her. "Let's go get a drink and forget about all of this."

As they walked off, Hawke looked down at Varric. "Not a half-bad idea. You in?"

"Drinks at the Hanged Man? Again?" He faked a yawn, then grinned at her. "Always, Hawke."