A/N: Hey everyone! I'm sorry for the long absence, but the holidays are always insane for me! I've just barely gotten to sit in front of my computer again, but I'm so happy to be back to my story! If it's been too long, maybe go back a chapter or two to refresh your memory.

**Warning*** Minor description of torture***

"Hi Cat!"

Cat gave Viveka a smile. Viveka had been so much more friendly ever since Cat stopped working at the Rose. And, Cat thought, she was always good for gossip.

"Hello Viveka," Cat replied. "I've brought the newest shipment. Is everyone engaged, or should I take them around to distribute?"

"Let me double check who is still free," she answered, moving to her large book where she kept track of who was with clients. "About half right now," she said. "Serendipity is free, as is Calla, and Merry, and Danric." She kept listing names as she went through the page.

"Okay, I'll stop at their rooms, and then come wait here in the common room for the others," Cat declared.

"Sounds good," Viveka replied. "I'll let Madam know that you're here."

"Great, thank you," Cat said as she headed for the stairs.

After hand delivering tonics, Cat found a table and waited. She took out a paper and quill to make note of new orders, and spent most of the evening talking with people that she didn't get to see very often.

Even Madam Lusine was chatty that evening, as she stopped by the table to pay for her order. She was in the middle of telling Cat of the exploits of a drunken nobleman from the prior evening, when a scream caused the common room to go quiet, and heads swiveled towards the stairs.

Cat could see the concern on the Madam's face, and she looked up the stairs again. What was that… was someone calling for help? she thought.

"Madam?" Cat asked quietly. "Who is up there?" she asked.

"Farrah," Madam Lusine answered quietly, and Cat felt slightly better. Farrah was known to take the rougher customers, and would often proclaim that she preferred it that way. Cat smirked, thinking that Farrah was being a little too eager. However, the look on Madam Lusine's face had her smirk disappearing.

"Is there cause for worry?" Cat asked, keeping her voice down. Madam Lusine turned back to her, her face impassive, but worry in her eyes.

"I hope not," Madam Lusine answered. "But we've not served the man before, so I cannot be certain."

"Did he ask for Farrah?" Cat asked with a frown.

"No," Madam Lusine replied with a scowl. "He asked for a woman that wouldn't cry or fight him. Farrah volunteered."

The uneasy feeling that had been growing suddenly exploded into worry. If he asked for that specifically, then he had obviously had plenty of women that had done both.

"Would you like me to check on her?" Cat asked.

"I… I couldn't ask you to do that dear," Madam Lusine said, shaking her head. "I shouldn't."

"I can simply pretend to go into the wrong room," Cat answered firmly as she stood and looked around the common room. She was about to potentially cause a scene, and needed an accomplice. "Danric!" she called across the room, where a lovely elven male was lounging. "Feel like strolling upstairs with me?" she asked.

He looked at her curiously, then glanced up above him. Giving a shrug, he stood fluidly and came to her. "If you like, Cat, but I'd rather stroll up there with your Champion you know."

"Yes, I know all about your obsession with Hawke," she replied dryly, then lowered her voice. "I'm going to accidentally walk into Farrah's room, and I need someone with me to sell the ruse," she explained. "I'll be a little drunk, so I just need you to walk up there with me, and pull me away after we see in."

His eyes lit up. "An act? How fun." He glanced at Madam Lusine, who after a moment gave him a nod. "Let's go then darling," he said. He raised his voice a little to help it carry. "You know better than taking the hard stuff Madam drinks," he said to her, putting her arm in his and moving towards the stairs.

"I'll drink what I want," she replied, knowing that he was the right choice, as he loved to role play, or so he told her constantly. "It didn't taste so bad after the third cup."

"Are you sure you don't want me to get one of your friends to help you home?" he asked, his voice still a little louder than normal, though he was playing it off as being tipsy along with her. "Though I'm only being nice. I've wanted you to come upstairs with me for a long time now."

"Oh really?" she asked, extending the words out and trying to sound drunkenly alluring.

"Well of course!" he laughed. "And when you tell the Champion of how good I am, you'll bring him with you next time!"

"I guess we'll see how well you do," she laughed along with him.

She didn't have to force herself to laugh as he purposefully tripped on the stairs, and while she could tell that Madam Lusine was doing a good job of distracting the others in the common room from them, there were still a few curious stares that followed them.

Well, it can't be helped, she told herself. Who cares about rumors anyway? Hawke will either get a kick out of it, or be mad… and she couldn't think about that now.

She pushed against Danric, stopping him when he would have moved for the door. "Stay put," she murmured to him, and moved to the door, pulling it open, hoping that she didn't see what she was thinking she would see.

"This room, right darling?" she asked as she moved inside. "I can't wait!"

She heard a gasp, and saw that the man had Farrah up against a wall. Her clothes looked torn, and she looked at Cat with wild eyes, the right side of her face bright red and swollen, and her lip bleeding.

"Hey, someone's already in here," she said with a frown.

"Wha-" the man turned, giving Farrah the opening she needed to run. She took off, and the man grabbed at her, but missed.

Danric was quick to shield her, and turned her to the stairs. He looked back to Cat, and saw her squaring herself in the doorway to prevent the man from going after them. He hoped she knew what she was doing, or the Champion would have all of their heads.

Cat could swear she heard the man mutter something that sounded like, "skittish bitch," and it pinged something in her memory, but she couldn't quite recall it.

The man faced her, and she tried to think if she had seen him before, or if her mind was playing tricks on her.

"Come to trade places?" he sneered, looking her up and down, and giving a wicked smirk.

"No," she answered.

"You're the one that came barging in here," he pointed out, "and let that one I paid for run away. It's only right that I get my money's worth."

"You can take that up with the Madam," she said coldly, turning to leave. He grabbed her shoulder, turning her back around.

"You came up for a good time, and I'll show you one," he said with a toothy smile, bringing a dagger out of his belt, and Cat's inner alarm started going haywire. It wasn't that she was afraid he'd get physical, she could handle herself just fine. It was his accent… it sounded Antivan.

"I don't think so," she stated, pulling free and unsheathing her own daggers. She started backing away, getting back into the hallway in order to give herself room to move. He followed her, pulling out another dagger of his own.

"You have some skill?" he asked quietly, and she knew he was playing with her. She hoped her skills were enough to keep her alive, though he didn't look like an assassin, so there was still hope.

"Get 'em Cat!" came a yell from the stairs, and Cat smirked but didn't turn her focus away.

"Cat?" the man asked in disdain. "Well then, let's dance. Come here, kitty kitty…"

She glared at his mocking tone. "You leave, and we'll forget this whole thing," she told him.

He smiled now, and she steeled herself, though she saw that he was looking beyond her. His cold eyes reminded her of the Crow that had captured her once before, and she told herself she would not be taken again. "I don't think she likes ya, boss!" a man called from the bottom of the steps, taking her off guard.

She turned back, waiting. She cursed herself for not taking the time to find out if there were others with the man, she had just charged in head first as always, and she felt her blood turn to ice. Maker, help me get out of this alive… she thought desperately.

The man started coming forward, his steps light, his daggers twirling in circles in his hands as if they were batons. She swallowed, telling herself to wait for the right moment, and she didn't bother turning even as she heard footsteps behind her on the stairs.

He gave a few jabs that were nowhere near to hitting her, and she frowned at the hit to her pride. He was treating her like a beginner, and she sneered at him, though she felt relieved.

"You do not want to play with me, kitten?" he asked. "I only thought to give you a sporting chance. Otherwise it is over too quickly."

"Cat!" she heard Danric yell in alarm, and she moved sideways to avoid an attack behind her, which turned out to be exactly what the man wanted as it trapped her in the corner of the banister. She cursed to herself again, noting that there was no attack, it had simply been a feint.

She held her daggers up, ready to fight to the end. The bearded man gave her a sly grin as he moved closer, and she fought to keep her wits about her, even as her heartbeat quickened.

She knew already by the way he moved that he was better than she was, but she couldn't give up. She simply had to find an opening. Even though Zevran was far above her in skill, there had been times that she had surprised him, and been able to win the round… she just had to think of a way to do that now.

Her concentration to think of a distraction gave him the upper hand, and she yelped when he suddenly lunged and gave her a light slice across her right hand, her dagger sliding from her grip. Her left hand held its blade even tighter as she quickly feinted a fall. She put her weight on her arms and brought her legs around to knock him off his feet. He fell easily- too easily, she had a moment to think- before he landed directly on her, his knee striking deep into her thigh.

He tossed one of his own daggers and grabbed her left wrist, grinding the bones together, and causing her to drop her blade. He chuckled in victory, hardly winded, as he straddled her to keep her down. He bent forward, inhaling deeply in her neck, and licking up the side of her face as she struggled to get away.

"Get off me, you cretin!" she yelled, bucking her body in her anger, using her bloodied hand to push his face away.

He smiled, bringing the butt of his dagger to her temple, and knocking it hard, her body going limp. He stood with an amused grin, looking around at the whores that glared at him. He smirked, and moved to gather his blades, sheathing them where they belonged as his two men congratulated him.

"Look how angry they are," he said smoothly, gesturing around the room. "However, she started the fight… I merely incapacitated her. Now, where's the woman I paid for?"

"She will not be coming back," Danric walked closer holding out a few coins. "Madame has refunded your money."

The man looked at the coins in his hand, then back up to Danric's face. He looked unimpressed.

"You should take it," Danric continued, "and go. You'll not find what you're looking for here. And once Hawke hears of this…" he gave the man a smile and a shrug. "Well, that would be bad. For you."

"Hawke?" the man asked, unmoving, though his eyes were alight as he looked to his companions. "The so-called Champion?"

Danric looked uncomfortable, as he didn't understand the shift in the man. "That's the one," he replied slowly. "He doesn't like others touching what is his."

The man looked down at Cat's body, looked back up with an intrigued look. He said nothing as he took the coins from Danric's hand, then gestured his men to gather his things from his room.

He pushed the elven man aside who was leaning over the unconscious woman, and stooped down, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Danric scrambled to his feet and followed after him as the man went down the stairs. Others quickly followed Danric's example, protesting what the man was doing, though the two men behind him prevented them from stopping him.

The man smirked as he looked at the stormy faces. "You think you can stop me?" he asked, and as they looked at the men in front of them brandishing weapons, their heads dropped and protests died. "As I thought," he said with a chuckle. He paused before he walked out, turning his head to speak over his shoulder. "Make sure to pass the word on to the Champion and his… friends."

"And you lot always complain about me not taking you any place nice," Hawke grumbled. "Who knows how long it will take to get the smell out."

"It doesn't smell that bad Hawke," Anders retorted with a roll of his eyes.

Hawke looked at him, incredulously. "You can't be serious."

"I can hardly smell anything," Anders replied with a frown.

"You've obviously been living in Darktown for far too long," Hawke said, "if the sewers don't smell that bad to you."

"Not everyone finds out they are actually a noble, discovers large piles of ancient treasure, and become the Champion of a city," Anders said dryly.

It was Hawke's turn to roll his eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Sorry," Anders replied contritely. "I've got a lot on my mind, and I think it's getting to me."

"Well then, let's get these urine crystals and get out of here."

"Seriously Hawke, why do you keep calling it that? I've clearly explained what the sela petrae is…"

"And I don't know why you think it's not just a urine crystal," Hawke interrupted.

"Fine, whatever," Anders groused. "Let's just get it done."

The walked on quietly for a time, finding several deposits of crystal that grew in places that had concentrated areas of manure and urine. Hawke was understandably squeamish, but Anders treated it as a chore that needed to be done, therefore there was no point in complaining about it.

"So, did you end up telling Cat about this ritual?" Hawke asked suddenly.

Anders gave him a questioning frown. "No, why would I have?" he answered.

"Well, I suppose I simply thought you would eventually cave and tell her."

"Not this time," Anders replied, his frown deepening. "I can't take the chance, because she might talk me out of it."

"Why would she?" Hawke asked. "If she knew it was what you wanted, I would think she would voice concerns, but then be supportive." He looked at Anders' expression closely. "Unless you haven't been completely honest on the risks involved."

Anders looked uncomfortable, but eventually he spoke. "There are many risks, it is very dangerous," he replied. "In all honesty," he looked up to Hawke, "it very well could mean my death."

"Anders, you don't have to rush into this, we can find another solution," Hawke said in concern.

"No, I need to do this," Anders replied. "A better life… that is worth risking everything for."

Hawke looked after him, as Anders continued to remove the small deposits of crystal and place them into his sack. He sighed, and moved to find more of the crystal. "I just wish it wasn't all on you. I wish there was someway I could help."

Anders looked to his friend, wishing for an instant that he could share his burden, but he knew it was better this way. "I appreciate the thought," Anders said softly. "But I don't think I could risk you or anyone else."

"Just yourself?" Hawke asked with a humorless smile. "I suppose I can understand that."

They fell into a companionable silence, Hawke scouting out the crystal and Anders harvesting, until he declared he had enough. They moved back through the sewers the way they had come, until they returned to Darktown.

"Thank you for this, Hawke," Anders said as they walked towards his clinic. "I know I am asking a lot."

"This? This was nothing," Hawke replied, stifling a yawn. "Though I still don't understand why it needed to be in the middle of the night."

"Less people out and about," Anders replied with a smile. "I'd rather not attract attention by having people recognize our Champion wandering through the sewers." He looked up towards a small patch of sunlight. "Besides, it's morning now."

"That settles it then," Hawke said, reaching out for the clinic door, and pulling it open. "Let's get cleaned up, and we'll go for some breakfast."

"What have you brought me?"

Cat's eyes wheeled at the new voice, her head hurting from the blow as well as trying to remember why the accents sounded so familiar. She shifted again, trying to ease the pain in her body.

She had woken to find herself gagged and bound. As her senses came back into focus, she looked up to see her hands were slightly above her head, the rope that bound them together looped through some sort of pulley system that connected to the ceiling.

She was sitting in a chair for the moment, but she could tell that with a tug on the rope nearby the pulley could be raised, and she would be hanging in the air. She could only hope that it wouldn't come to that.

She had noted that the slice on her wrist had been treated. That was promising, as if they wanted her dead, there would be no point in healing her. She had started looking immediately for an escape, but felt she was being watched.

The man that had taken her was sitting about thirty feet away at the base of a column. He was eating, but his eyes never moved from her, and gave her an uneasy feeling, so she looked away.

Now, hours later, another man had joined them, though she doubted they were the only two there. And from what he said, this man was the boss.

He came around to where she sat, and looked down at her. "Ah, what a pretty face," he said with a charming smile. He looked back to the first man. "Are you certain?" he asked.

The first man nodded, anticipation lighting his eyes, and Cat's unease grew as she racked her memory. The first man crouched down, so he was now looking up at her. He gave an easy smile.

"I had told my men to find a friend of the Champion, but you… you are different… because of the connection you see," he said as if explaining to her, though she didn't understand. "It's simply business," he gave a shrug. "Those that cross me, must be made an example to others, or there is anarchy… chaos."

She looked at him wearily, but he seemed to be waiting for a response, so she nodded slowly. "Ah, I knew you would understand," he beamed. "So you see, there is no hard feelings, this isn't personal of course.

"However, I cannot help but feel glad that Velasco came across you, my dear," the man looked back to his subordinate. "I would have found it hard to believe that you were on her ship, but Velasco seems certain you were there. He never forgets a pretty face, you see, especially when it eludes him for so long."

He smiled again, though the smile was cold now. He could see her go pale as she finally realized whose company she was in. "Ah, you understand, yes? Well then, we should get started." He stood easily and pulled a hood over her head.

"Hawke, Blondie," Varric greeted the pair as they joined the three of them at their table in the Hanged Man.

"Hello Varric, Isabela," Hawke replied. He sat down in front of his cousin and smiled. "And Charade. To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?"

"Your friends are so entertaining, I couldn't seem to leave," she replied with a grin. "I've been enjoying myself immensely."

"I just got here, so I can't take the credit," Varric said, and Hawke looked to him, then turned a speculative gaze to Isabela, who merely smiled back.

"You have good timing Hawke," Isabela said. "Varric was just telling us that he had news."

"Unfortunately not the good kind either," Varric replied. "My man at the docks says that the ship we've been looking for was spotted yesterday."

"Is he certain?" Isabela asked, though she had stiffened. "He could have been mistaken again."

"No mistake this time," Varric replied. "He watched them disembark, and said they were definitely raiders. Not only that, they took care to hide the ship."

"You've been expecting raiders?" Charade asked curiously.

"He said it had all the markers you told me about, including the mark of the Felicisima Armada," Varric added to Isabela.

"Castillon?" Hawke asked as he understood what Varric was saying. "Here in Kirkwall?"

"It would appear so," Varric replied. "We were expecting him to show at some point."

"For me," Isabela said quietly. "I wouldn't blame anyone for backing away." She looked seriously from Hawke to Charade.

"Care to fill me in?" Charade asked Hawke when she couldn't get Isabela to look at her.

He glanced at Isabela, and then nodded. Charade already seemed attached, and she'd find out eventually. "Castillon is a powerful and wealthy merchant from Antiva, and has ties to the Felicisima Armada," he explained. "He hired Isabela, but when she found out the awful things he was doing, she wouldn't complete the job."

He could see the gratitude on Isabela's face for leaving out the details.

"So now he's coming after her?" Charade asked, putting two and two together. "As in, 'no one crosses me and gets away with it?'"

"That about sums it up," Varric answered.

"And now he's in Kirkwall," Charade said.

"He won't just be walking the streets," Isabela cautioned. "It will be almost impossible to find him directly. We'll have to find one of his men, and tail them back to him."

"You don't have any idea where he would hide?" Hawke frowned.

"It's why he's so successful," Isabela muttered. "He can blend in with nobles and criminals alike. He could be holed up in Hightown, Lowtown, Darktown or the Docks."

"Searching every area of the city won't help," Varric murmured.

"He'll stay holed up, but his men will be out and about," Isabela said, leaning closer to the others. "We should keep an eye in the taverns and brothel."

"Most of us don't even know what to look for," Hawke pointed out.

Isabela sighed, thinking it over. "Really, the one we need to look out for is Velasco. He's Castillon's right hand, and he'll be the one to take me to Castillon."

"So we find him first," Hawke said matter-of-factly.

"If he's Castillon's right hand, are we going to be able to get him to talk?" Anders asked.

Isabela grumbled again. "No, we're not. We'll have to think of a way to trick him into showing us where Castillon is." She looked around at them seriously. "Castillon shows a respectable version of himself to the world, but in reality he's a shark. We have to be careful." She looked around to the others, trying not to show her emotions. "He's the kind of man that enjoys breaking others."

Hawke kept her gaze for a moment, reading the unease in her eyes. "You'll stick with me, until we find him," he declared with a nod. "You gave up that relic for me after all, and I'm not going to let Castillon punish you for it."

She smirked at him, but he could see the relief in her eyes. "I'm a big girl Hawke, I'm responsible for my own actions."

"It would make me feel better if you stayed close," he said, returning her smirk, and she sighed.

"Very well…" she gave a nod in gratitude. "First things first however," she gulped down the rest of her drink and set the goblet on the table as she stood. "We need to make sure the others are aware of the danger."

Cat had no idea how long her embarrassment would last. She had thought that being forced to stand for hours on end, her arms tied above her would be awful, and granted, she was right about that. The hood on her head was driving her crazy, since she couldn't see, could only make out the loudest of noises, and couldn't seem to breathe easily.

She had thought to herself that at least her feet were on the ground, so she was hanging by her wrists. It could have been worse… she thought.

After some hours, she realized she had been right.

Her body jolted at the touch of someone grabbing her shirt. She tried to step back, but was pulled forward to compensate, and there really was no way she could move away. She didn't know who it was, nor what they were doing until she felt pieces of her shirt falling away.

Disconcerting was not enough to describe the feeling- not knowing where the touches would come from, when it would happen, nor being unable to hear the sound of the tearing fabric. She wheeled around, trying to get away, but only succeeding in getting nicked by a blade several times.

Feeling the rough hands, she fought harder, and was pinched tightly for it. But the pain stopped as quickly as it had started. Her only clue was some muffled noises, and thought that perhaps it was Velasco, and Castillon had stopped him from marking her.

She had no real concept of time, as she stood there, naked but for a hood over her head. She felt degraded, humiliated, and her arms were starting to burn in a way that felt that they would fall off.

She could no longer hold her head up, and let it rest on the inside of her arm, unable to keep herself awake, but unable to truly fall asleep either. As her eyes would droop closed, the weight of her head would put more pressure on her arm, and she would jolt back awake in pain, only for her eyes to blink heavily and start the cycle again.

At one point, the rope was suddenly slackened, and her body crashed to the ground, landing painfully in a heap. She told herself to stretch out her arms, give herself time to adjust, but the feeling of being exposed was too much, and she moved as quickly as she could into a fetal position to cover herself, jarring her painful muscles in the process.

Someone loosened the ropes… they're probably still here, somewhere… her mind cried in misery. She forced herself to calm her breathing, to think of Hawke- how he would be searching for her, that she needed only to stay alive until he found her.

But deep inside, she worried of what she would suffer before that happened. She remembered the cold smile that Castillon had given her- that last thing she had seen- and she began to shake.

"Where in the HELL have you been?!"

Zevran turned at the angry voice, raising his eyebrow in question at the pirate who was glaring at him.

He gave her a smirk. "It's been some time since you've asked of my nighttime activities, Isabela," he replied.

"I don't give a damn what you were doing," she snarled, hesitated at the grin he was sporting, and shook her head to refocus. "I can't believe that I've been worried about you, when you were having a good time!"

"Good cannot begin to describe it," Zevran said with a sly smile, leaning back on the bar and lifting his drink to his lips. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he reminisced.

"Well, at least we know you're safe," Isabela rolled her eyes and started away. "Stay here until we get back!" she called over her shoulder as she strode away.

Zevran wondered what had crawled up her extremely delicious backside. He gave a shrug, deciding he could stay and drink for a bit. He was celebrating after all.

He gave the bartender a smile and a tip of his glass, raising it to drink again.

"He's fine," Isabela said with obvious relief to Hawke. "The idiot got lucky last night, that's why we haven't seen him."

"So Cat and Fenris must be somewhere together then," Hawke responded, his own relief palpable. "We can simply leave a note at their place, letting them know to come to the Hanged Man."

Isabela hesitated. "I'd almost rather them stay put, but I also won't get rid of this awful feeling until I see them with my own eyes," she said, taking Hawke by surprise.

"Isabela? Sharing feelings?" He turned to her with a mock look of shock. "Did the world just end when I wasn't looking?!"

She turned to give him a wry smile. "Very funny," she replied. "You know you're feeling the same."

"Almost," he answered, as they started walking away. "I won't feel better until this whole Castillon situation is resolved."

"Above everything else, Castillon is a businessman," Isabela said quietly as they walked back to Hightown. "We don't need to slaughter everyone to win, only prove that he's outmatched. Castillon won't waste resources on a losing fight. Especially if he thought he was going to lose his life. He values that above all else."

"So if he knows his life is in our hands, he'll back down?" Hawke asked skeptically. "You're not usually this naive."

She shot him a dirty look. "I'm the one that's dealt with him before, not you, Hawke," she replied. "Once you show yourself to be an enemy, as well as powerful enough to kill him? Castillon will stay far, far away from you. It wouldn't hurt to get his word on it either. He sees himself as a honorable man."

"And what stopped you from killing him before?" Hawke asked, his eyes narrowed in frustration.

"Working for him was much more lucrative," she said with a shrug. "And having my name attached to his didn't hurt either." She waited a beat before adding, "at the time anyway."

She could tell that she was only adding fuel to the fire, so she backed down. "It doesn't matter at this point anyway," she said. "We can decide what to do after we find him."

Hawke nodded, and they continued on, the air tense between them. Isabela could tell it wasn't directed at her… more like a sense of foreboding that was pouring off of each of them.

After leaving a note at Fenris and Cat's house, Hawke and Isabela picked up Sebastian at the Chantry, then made their way towards the barracks, filling in Aveline about the situation. They were all a little surprised when she dropped everything in Donnic's lap and accompanied them back to the Hanged Man.

Isabela though touched, insisted that they didn't need her help. Aveline, though worried, informed her that she was simply looking out for her city.

Hawke, knowing both of them well enough to see through it, just smiled as they walked past his home, and out towards the market.

"Hey Hawke," Isabela stopped, looking over at the Blooming Rose. "It can't hurt to have a look inside," she said in reply to his questioning look. "Velasco is one that never misses the opportunity to visit a brothel," she explained. "And if he hasn't, we can have them let us know once he does."

"Good idea," Hawke said with a nod. He changed directions, heading toward the door. Though Aveline and Sebastian neither wanted to go in, they both stayed quiet.

Hawke strode through the door, walking up to the podium, and stated that he needed to see the Madam. He was taken aback when the girl in front of him went deathly pale, looking at him in fear.

"Viveka?" Isabela asked, seeing the girl's face. "Don't worry, Hawke just wants to speak to her, nothing is wrong."

"You don't have to try to spare our feelings…"

They turned towards the attractive elf that was approaching them. Hawke thought he looked familiar, and a name popped into his head. "Devin? What do you mean?"

The elf smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm almost tempted to have it changed, just so I can say you remembered my name," he said.

"Danric," Isabela said reproachfully, looking over to see the embarrassed look on Hawke's face. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"There wasn't much we could do, but we all know Hawke's leniency doesn't extend towards those that get Cat hurt," Danric replied, looking down as if facing a firing squad. He didn't see how Hawke and his group froze at his words.

Hawke reached out before anyone could stop him, grabbing Danric by the shoulders, and bringing them face to face. The elf couldn't help but drown a little in those amber eyes, before he realized how they looked. Not heated in anger, but practically pleading.

"What are you saying?" Hawke implored. The uneasy feeling he had had all afternoon had blown into distress, but he had to know. There was still a chance, slim as it was that this had nothing to do with Castillon.

Though he didn't believe that in the slightest.