romdeau | a fishing date;

Entry tags:

a fishing date;

There were no impromptu trips to Sundermount, in fact. Merrill had holed herself up with the Eluvian, avoiding Hawke whenever possible. The Arulin'Holm stayed at the estate, locked away somewhere, and the Dalish woman didn't want to see or hear from Hawke without good cause. Which was understandable (upsetting, but understandable), and she let Varric and Isabela take over Merrill's undertaking. They'd update her whenever possible and she was infinitely grateful, though she knew things couldn't stay that way forever. Eventually, they'd need to talk, and that would happen when Marian was good and ready. For now, she wasn't.

First on her mind was Anders and his mage underground. He would disappear for days on end, surfacing only to work in his clinic where he would refuse to go on any errands. Too busy, he'd say, occupied with his patients and his manifesto. It didn't stop him from pressing worn papers into her hands at every opportunity, the bastard. Her desk was full of Anders' scrawl, damning evidence if anyone should walk in and ask about it. She'd been certain to lock them in the bottom drawer, out of sight and out of mind, but she couldn't put him off any more than she could push aside the trouble she had with Merrill.

With her hands full of Kirkwall's smaller troubles - bandits, a few raiders on the outskirts, and a blood mage or two - she had nearly forgotten her plans with Cullen until she returned one night to a note on her desk at the end of the week. Even such a simple thing was enough to brighten her mood considerably and she packed that evening, though she wasn't to meet him for two more days.

She used the time to tell only a few that she'd be gone from the city, that no one was kidnapping her, and that she'd be very cross if she came back to find Kirkwall burning in her absence. Only Isabela and Varric gave her a hard time for her attempts at discretion, asking for details and gaining nothing.

By sunset on the second day, she was down by the docks to meet him, a pack slung over one arm and her blades across her shoulders, her eyes on the ships and the few workers lingering around. She couldn't be too careful, even now.

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"We'll just need to promise to make sure that whatever we end up doing next time, it's inside and not out on the streets after dark. We were too lucky the first time we ran through Lowtown without a problem." She half-smiled at him. How they'd managed that one still surprised her. She wasn't about to complain too much, though.

"I wouldn't be surprised either. No, the Rose is a good idea. I wouldn't have thought of that." Just enough removed from the crowded parts of Hightown that they wouldn't draw attention. If it gave them even half an hour's respite, it was well worth the potential exposure from Gamlen or the favor they might be asked later for their hospitality.

She nodded. "He spends most of his coin there now because he can't get people to actually spot him when he wants to gamble." And it served him right after he squandered away his family's fortune in his idiocy. "Even if he was there, he'd probably be distracted enough not to notice us. And if he does, then I can give him a healthy reminder of why he doesn't stay at the estate. He won't trouble us." She would be more concerned about him mentioning it to one of her friends and, really, who would believe him at this point?

"You have a deal. I feel as though I should apologize for not realizing what a problem we'd be inviting by coming back in at this time. I'll blame it on the fact that usually, if I'm out at this hour it's with a large, armed patrol, and there are precious few in this city suicidal enough to go after an entire group of Templars. And the fact that you're very distracting and factored way more in my decisions than tactics." Proof that there were things that could take him out of work mode.

He nodded. "As long as you're comfortable with the risk, I don't have an objection. I just don't want to make things awkward or uncomfortable for you." He doubted she was very fond of the man for a variety of reasons. Still, family was family, and he had learned a long time ago not to insert himself into the middle of those sorts of things.

By the time they reached the top of the long, steep staircase, he was no longer able to hide his limp. He gritted his teeth and walked doggedly across the small courtyard between the stairs and the door of the infamous brothel. The guard station there took one look at them and stepped forward. "Problem? District is closed until morning."

Cullen stepped just a little too close to him. "Unless you want to take that up with the Knight-Commander, I suggest you stand down, guardsman." There was no love lost between the Templars and guards in the city, particularly since the death of the Viscount. The man's eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat.

"I didn't recognize you out of your armor, Knight-Captain." There was something a little pointed and accusatory in the statement, but it was as far as he seemed willing to take his antagonism. He stepped aside and made a point of looking elsewhere. If he recognized Hawke, too, he didn't give any indication of it.

"Just as I should have been more aware that wandering around without potions is asking for trouble. I'd done more than my share of getting caught outside with gangs around when I first arrived in Kirkwall." She chuckled quietly. "And I'll be taking that as a compliment, if you don't mind. Distracting enough for the Knight-Captain will go on my small list of personal achievements."

Hawke nodded. "Really, it's fine. What would Gamlen even do about it?" He took her mother's death just as hard as she did, even if he wouldn't admit to it. If he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol and women, that was his business, but he had no reason to scrutinize her life and her choices when they had no effect on his social bearing or the Amell name. Even if her money and title were in jeopardy, what right did he have to protest after what he'd done? Family or not, it was her decision to make. "I doubt he'd bat an eyelash in front of you. If he brings it up to me later...then that's just what will happen. Risking our personal safety to hide something from my uncle is just foolish." And she would stick by that.

His limp had concern making its way back into her eyes, though she said nothing about it as they passed by the guard stationed there. She settled on an expression of neutrality as they conversed and she was particularly surprised that the guard backed off so quickly, despite the tone he took with Cullen. There was no point in questioning it and she wisely kept her mouth shut. With another light tug on the basket, she nodded to get him moving again across the little way to the Rose's doorstep. She opened the door for them and held it open for him to enter.

Her ears with burning once the door was closed and she was able to keep her smile to herself only by remembering the fact that he was limping. "Here, let's set this down and find you somewhere to sit. I can find Madame Lusine."

Cullen wasn't sure that was the end of it. It wouldn't surprise him if later the next day or two he received a visit from a certain angry Guard-Captain demanding to know why he was harassing one of her men for doing his job. If it came to that, so be it. He didn't want to stand around and argue about whether he ought to be walking the red light district at that time of morning when both of them were injured and tired.

He couldn't prevent the color that came to his cheeks once they were inside. The incense that always hung thickly in the air never could completely disguise the nature of the place. He had never been a welcome sight. Many of the prostitutes went out of their way to make him uncomfortable whenever they saw him. It was more this than his injury that had him quietly agreeing to Hawke's proposal. There was a bench seat fairly close to the door.

"I'll sit right over here and guard our haul," he said. "Thank you." The gratitude in his voice was a little heavier than the gesture warranted on the surface. He wouldn't have proposed coming here if he didn't think they needed the help.

Perhaps she'd rib him about how easily he could blush even now, tired and injured and irritated. But for the time being, she simply nodded and let him sit, heading into the common room of the Rose. She stopped only once by the door to scan the room for any signs of her uncle - of which there were none, thank the Maker - before she crossed the threshold and made her way to the bar. Vivika wasn't there, surprisingly; another woman was, the other bookkeeper, who gave Hawke the critical eye as she came over.

"A little late - or early - yet to be out, Messer. What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to see Madame Lusine, actually," she said. "It's...something of an emergency. If you could point me to her--"

The woman didn't seem entirely inclined to argue, gesturing to the door beside the bar. "In the back, dearie. It's been a long night, though, and I wouldn't expect her to be overly generous."

With a nod of gratitude, she did as instructed, and found the white haired woman having a drink with a few of her other workers, ones who clearly wore the color and uniform of the Coterie. As she approached, one of the guards gave her a once-over and Lusine cocked a lazy eyebrow. "Oh. You." Hawke winced. That couldn't be a good sign. "I wasn't expecting the other Amell tonight. Your uncle was by earlier for a drink and an eyeful of my girls," she said, standing. "Well, what do you want?"

Her eyes strayed to the mercenaries, then back to the proprietor. "I was hoping you'd lend me a hand, Madam Lusine. My friend and I have had a difficult evening and we need some assistance." Her eyebrow shot up higher, if that was even possible. "I can pay."

Lusine sighed, entirely put upon, and handed her glass to one of the workers. "Come on, then. What's all the fuss about?" Hawke led her right back to Cullen through the side door, skipping the main room altogether.

Cullen stood as they approached. The madame scowled at the sight of him and crossed her arms, looking from him to Hawke in a accusatory fashion. She said in a tight voice, "We haven't been servicing recruits for almost four years now. I can't think of any other reason you'd be here." As she said it she stared pointedly at the side of Cullen's breeches where they were blood soaked.

Cullen cleared his throat and resisted the urge to bristle. Provoking the woman would get the both of them unceremoniously tossed out without so much as a how do you do. "I'm not here to cause you problems," he said. "We ran into some trouble, and we have a way to go. We'll pay for whatever you can provide and be on our way well before anyone else sees us, if you're worried about that."

She tapped her fingers against her forearm, her eyes narrowing in a way he didn't entirely like. "From where I'm standing, I'm not the one with anything to worry about," she said a little pointedly. She opened her mouth to say something else but stopped short, her nose wrinkling. "What's that smell?"

Cullen's cheeks colored more deeply. "Ah...crabs. We have crabs. In the basket! There are crabs in the basket." He pointed at the basket leaking rank seawater on the floor.

"That doesn't go any further. You two come with me." She whirled on her heel and headed back into the side rooms without a glance backward. She clearly expected them to do as she said. Cullen glanced once at Hawke, gave a small, slightly sheepish shrug, and fell into step a few paces behind her.

"We're really not interested in causing a scene, Madame Lusine," Hawke agreed, trying to add her voice in there to at least give Cullen some credibility...though she might have had better luck simply keeping silent. The last time she was in the Rose and not strictly on business, she had to drag Anders outside because he'd gotten into a flustered screaming match with a few women - and men - who wanted to see him hired.

She could feel her ears turning pink at the offhanded comment about them having crabs and she couldn't stop herself from pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead. They weren't going to live that one down anytime soon. So much for being an intimidating figure to the Coterie.

Instead of protesting, she followed the both of them into the side room, mindful of any of the eyes following them. Even angry with them, Madame Lusine wouldn't risk for them to be attacked in any measure until they were far, far from the Blooming Rose. It was a small comfort, to be certain. But Hawke didn't get to where she was by being complacent and so she watched anyway, heedful of the few uniformed workers they passed. Thankfully, none of them seemed too interested in them for the moment.

Cullen was also wary. He didn't trust the woman beyond the fact that she was a shrewd businesswoman who knew that if something happened to two important people in Kirkwall in her establishment, it would be her ruin, and Meredith's focused wrath could very well shake the foundations of the Coterie in the city. His ears burned when one of the off duty whores shot him a lascivious smile and hiked her skirt. He very quickly found an elsewhere to look, his lips pressed in a thin, unamused line.

Madame Lusine settled them in a small sitting room with a fire going in the hearth. "Over here, both of you," she said in her most business-like tone of voice. She indicated two chairs with an offhand gesture while she approached a small locked chest occupying part of one of the bookshelves. She fished a key from a pouch at her belt and unlocked it. "You'll want to take those trousers down, Knight-Captain. Trust me when I say there's nothing I haven't seen." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You can leave your smalls up if you're shy."

Cullen frowned deeply, unsure if she was having him on or serious. "I don't think--" he began.

She cut him off. "I'm not asking you to think. I'm telling you that if you want my help, I need to see that leg." She glanced at Hawke. "Are you hurt anywhere else than that pretty face of yours?"

He didn't like her tone, and he was quickly coming to regret having suggested this. Surely they could have made it further? Grumbling under his breath, he unfastened the lacing of his breeches and pulled them down just enough to reveal the slice. For not being terribly deep, it was nasty, the skin swollen and livid with several blisters all along the edges. The acid seemed to have spread as he bled and sweated, the chemical burn a good bit larger than the slice. That explained the burning.

Her nerves wanted to settle as they walked, as there was clear enough evidence that they were relatively safe in this sort of lion's den. Never mind the few looks they were getting, the hiked skirt that had her companion turning his head. She didn't dare touch him, her paranoia saying that all it took was one person catching them to get the word out, and hadn't they been through enough close calls for one evening? Tomorrow still had the opportunity to wreck havoc on their little secret (which was turning into not so much of a secret any longer).

The room they were brought to was warm and she fought the desire actually sit for a moment, concerned about how quickly their host was telling Cullen to drop his trousers. One look was spared between Madame Lusine's turned back and Cullen's face, and then she shrugged. It was up to him...though she wouldn't deny the request nearly had her bristling.

The less injured of the two, she moved to stand by Cullen instead of taking her seat. "I'm fine," she promised Madame Lusine. "If it would be too much of a bother, I don't need anything." A potion back in her estate would work just as well and would relieve them of a little of their unquestionable debt from the evening. Her gaze flickered back to Cullen and she couldn't help the look of concern that leaped into her expression. "Maker's breath," she muttered. At least it didn't look so deep of a slice, though the burn over his skin was more than enough to make up for it. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad decision to stop after all.

"Suit yourself," Lusine said to Hawke, shrugging indifferently. She didn't seem intent on pushing them toward anything they didn't ask for of their own accord. She turned a critical eye on the wound and pursed her lips. A few more moments of digging in the chest had her coming up with a second vial.

"Rub this on it first." She tossed it to Cullen and waited for him to do as she instructed.

He didn't care for her imperious tone. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what it was. He decided against it. If he trusted her enough to come here in the first place, he'd be an idiot not to take the help she offered. He had no doubt she'd take great pleasure in pointing out the logic of that herself if he gave her the opportunity.

He resisted the urge to glance at Hawke. Lusine was too observant and shrewd not to pick up on subtle cues. He needed this to look like business as usual. The Champion and the Knight-Captain involved in the sorts of activities that the Coterie typically resented, making the city a safer place, not two people on a date. He could only hope that the crab basket didn't give that away despite their best efforts.

Uncorking the vial, he lifted the solution for a quick sniff. He couldn't tell much about it other than it was inoffensive. It poured out as a thick gel. He hissed as he rubbed it all around the irritated skin. If he had been expecting relief, he was sorely disappointed. The look he shot Lusine was vaguely accusatory.

She ignored that, instead handing over a healing potion. "Now drink this. If you had taken it before, that acid on your skin would have just burned you again as soon as you started moving around. We'll need to get you a new set of trousers."

Cullen took the potion and sniffed it, too. If there was anything in it besides a healing draught, he couldn't detect it. Only when Lusine had turned her back to them to head to the door and summon someone with pants did he hazard a glance at Hawke. He looked grim when he downed the potion. The set of his shoulders relaxed with the ease of the pain and the closing of the gash.

She was keeping her eye on whatever was being passed around as well. She knew enough about poisons from Tomwise to at least detect certain characteristics of the stuff, but without taking either of the vials from Cullen himself, she wouldn't be able to provide much help either way. Lusine was as closed off as Varric could be, unreadable in her expression. If either of the items she handed over to Cullen were dangerous, it would be impossible to know until the effects had begun to show. They seemed legitimate for the most part, which allowed Hawke to maintain her casual demeanor despite her restless uncertainty.

When their host turned away, she met Cullen's gaze and simply shrugged. A potion was a potion, standard or made of elfroot. So long as it did the trick, they couldn't complain. As he relaxed, so did she, but only long enough that he could catch a glimpse of it. She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip, glancing over to Lusine as she spoke with someone. When she returned, one of her girls followed with a dark pair of pants, which she offered to Cullen with a look. Hawke kept her eyes on Lusine through it to contain any rolling of the eyes she might have made.

"All cleared up, I imagine," the woman tutted. She waved the girl off and fixed Hawke with the same penetrating look she'd given earlier. "Now, about payment. Your...parcel seems to be making a mess of my entryway." The disgust in her face was plain to see.

Hawke smiled thinly. "I can take care of that."

"That wasn't any doubt," Lusine interjected. Bartering and haggling would do her no good here. Madame Lusine's prices were fixed. "I'll be sending you the bill for its cleaning, Sera. And should I need to get the whole rug replaced, you'll be paying for that as well." It wouldn't need to be, of course, but it was added incentive for Hawke to make good on her word. Or else was hardly ever spoken among agents of the Coterie. It didn't need to be.

He was grateful that she seemed to be taking all of this with as little trust as he. He hadn't expected her to feel relaxed in the place. However, after seeing her fight, he also knew that if something did happen, they had a decent chance of getting out of it intact. He didn't intend to linger any longer than it took to get sorted out.

For all that he couldn't control his blush, he had full control of his demeanor. He took the offered pants from the girl with a hard enough look that she was the one to look away first, this time without any suggestive glances downward. There were only so many indignities he'd willingly suffer in one night. As little as he wished to antagonize Lusine, that didn't extend to her employees. He folded the garment over his arm.

He interjected at the latter, severe when wrapped in the authority of his position. "If it's that bad, send the bill to my office. The Champion was acting at my behest tonight. I'll not have her paying a Templar debt."

The woman shifted a long, searching look between the two before nodding. "If that's what you prefer. Far be it from me to interfere with others' business arrangements." She fixed Cullen with an assessing look. "I didn't have to help you at all."

The implication was crystal clear there. The money was only part of it. "No, you didn't. You'll find my gratitude adequate, I believe." He all but dared her to ask him for something underhanded or inappropriate with the look he gave her in return. He'd find a way to pay the debt without compromising himself or his office, and she seemed to understand that as well.

"I don't expect the two of you will linger for long." It was almost diplomatic, the way she was telling them to get the Void out of her brothel. "If you want to change, there's a room beyond this one you may use."

Cullen nodded and headed in that direction. The sooner they could be on their way the better he'd feel. He doubted that if Lusine sent anyone to tail them that they'd spot the shadow. They'd have to take care how they behaved toward one another all the way to the estate.

She caught on to the ruse quickly enough. "I don't exactly want to be in debt to you and the Templars, either," Hawke interjected with a brief look at Cullen. Her gaze slipped back to Madame Lusine and she raised her hands with a mild shrug. "But this isn't the best place to negotiate financial terms." Madame Lusine's look hardly wavered, though Hawke wasn't entirely certain she wasn't going to get into some serious trouble just for a comment like that. She'd need to speak with Varric about throwing a little coin at the Coterie...or start making up some wildly intimidating tales to keep them away.

But then she was leveling Cullen's debts, the tension between them palpable enough to need a sword to slice through. She wasn't foolish enough to get between them; he could fight his own battles with or without his rank to aid him, and judging by the look he received from Lusine, she knew it too. The favor would come with a price, certainly, but it wouldn't be his dignity or his office.

She spared him a glance as he started walking, realizing belatedly that she shouldn't follow. They had appearances to keep up. "I'll go check on our cargo. Meet me at the door and we'll head out?" she requested instead, pointing back behind her.

"Yes," he shot over his shoulder as though the whole thing irritated him and half of it could be her fault. He didn't enjoy it, snapping like an ass, and had he been in front of almost anyone else, it wouldn't have been worth it. The last thing he wanted was anyone from the Coterie suspecting a personal relationship between him and her. The ways that could be manipulated were too varied and damaging to contemplate. He believed that Lusine had bought the act. He couldn't be certain, of course, but it seemed so. She wasn't shooting them any more of her searching looks. She just seemed to want them out of her hair.

He changed quickly and did his best to stay near a screen. He couldn't be sure there weren't eyes on him from somewhere, hidden passages or Coterie hiding holes probably scattered throughout the place. The breeches weren't a perfect fit, a little tight across the hips and a little short. Tucked into his boots the latter wasn't obvious. He kept hold of his ruined pants. He wasn't going to leave anything behind to be used who knew how, particularly with his blood on it.

When he met Hawke in the front, Madame Lusine was there, too, along with one of the workers. He didn't know if she was a prostitute or one of the girls who helped with the business side of things. He was about to let Hawke know he was ready to go when movement caught the corner of his eye close to the door opposite the rooms they had just vacated. It was one of the crabs. The only way it could have gotten out of the basket was if someone had opened it and rifled through it.

His jaw tightened as he closed the distance to pick it up from the side, holding it behind the front claws to keep from being pinched. When he turned, the brief look of cold fury Lusine shot the girl and the way she shrank back told him that rifling hadn't been sanctioned. "Watch the back there," he said to Hawke, quick with the lie. "We've got a hole." He had no love of what went on at the Rose or the character of its employees. He didn't want someone beaten or worse over a basket of crabs. It might happen anyway. He had done what he could to prevent it.

With a nod to the madame, he opened the door for Hawke. It didn't look particularly gallant with the way her arms were full. He made it less so by scowling.

The walk back to their basket only had her wary once more, though she needn't have been. Everything was in order once she'd gotten there, nothing out of place from what she could see. Madame Lusine disappeared off to the side to speak with someone, Hawke's eyes following her while one of the other workers kept her company.

As Lusine returned, she gave the former mercenary a once-over again, the look earning her a fold of the arms and a sharpened gaze. It didn't make the older woman go away, no, but the look of appraisal that followed didn't make Hawke feel dwarfed, either. That was saying something, at the very least.

Cullen's arrival had her straightening, looking over the basket for a sign of their hole. "Ah. Well, I suppose that would explain the leaking," she said helpfully, a brief look and a tight smile on her face. She gave a sweeping nod to the madame as well. "Thank you for your hospitality," she said with as much flippancy as gratitude, and she went for the basket to artfully dodge the look she would get for her attitude. Seeing him grab the door without so much as helping her, she kept her smile and picked up their parcel, ducking out the door without another word.

The guard was still posted where they'd left him, no less curious about their departure than he had been about their arrival. Hightown had always been a patrol that forced the guards to find their own work. She wasn't surprised to find one of them so nosy as to the happenings at the Rose, now that she thought of it. She kept up their facade and carried the basket back out into the main path of Hightown proper, directing their journey back to the estate.

Cullen inwardly bristled at the guard's curiosity. It was almost guaranteed he'd be dealing with some issue from Aveline, and that thought had him feeling testy. Once the man's back was to them again, he considered the crab he still held in his hand. Had he been alone rather than with Hawke, there was a very good chance he'd have shied it at the back of the man's neck, consequences be damned. Instead he wrapped it securely in his ruined breeches to free his sword hand and ensure they didn't have to open the basket again.

He kept in everything he wanted to say. Voices carried too easily along the cold stone of Hightown. If they had a Coterie shadow, he wanted it reported back to Lusine that he and Hawke were hardly on what one would call friendly terms. All business.

He trained his eyes to the shadows and rooftops, half expecting another ambush along the way. The silence of the squares was less unnatural than that at the docks. He heard night birds and insects, a few frogs in the fountains favored by the elite for their courtyards.

It was fortunate for them that the estate wasn't far from the Rose itself. Two turns brought them out to the smaller courtyard that housed the Amell family home, tucked in the wall and surrounded by a few pieces of ivy framing the doorway.

It was only here that she finally turned her back long enough to fish a key out of the pouch in her belt and to set the basket down so she could open the door. She took a brief glance inside and, satisfied that it seemed like no one was awake just yet, she pushed the basket just beyond the door.

"Before you go," she said, looking back to Cullen, "We still need to discuss payment." She gestured to the door. "And I suppose Meredith will want a letter for all of this," she added with some exasperation. If they had a follower, they needed a reason for him following her all the way back home. She kept her voice low only to ensure that no one in the house was disturbed. Had someone taken great pains to stay with them every step of the way, they would hear them despite her quiet.

"Of course," he said, somehow managing to sound both arch and snide. "We couldn't have word getting out that you're doing things for the city out of the goodness of your heart. You'll find the Templar coffers adequately deep even for your tastes." He hardened his voice further as he gestured toward the open door. "After you. I insist."

"Oh no, where would my reputation be then?" she countered, rolling her eyes. "Really, Meredith is so kind even to give me the time of day, much less send her Knight-Captain out to make sure I do my job." That one forced her to press her lips together to keep from smiling. Why Meredith would want a blighted basket of crabs was another story and she dearly hoped she'd hear what the Coterie thought of that before the end of the week.

With a nod, she disappeared through the doorway, taking a few extra steps to ensure that there wasn't a large war hound waiting there to barrel into Cullen when he stepped in after her. Luckily, there wasn't just yet.

"I'm no happier about it than you. Let's just...get that letter, shall we?" He stepped in behind her and shut the door. He glanced at it and took a few steps away from it before breaking into a wry, apologetic smile. "Next time I suggest we pay Lusine a visit, just counter suggest we strip down and roll in the broken glass outside the Hanged Man. I think it would be almost as pleasant."

He moved then to help her with the basket and set his rolled pants atop the lid. "If the stakes weren't so high, I'd say some of that was fun. We make a good team."

For her part, she had to keep herself from outright laughing loud enough to wake the house. Her grin was broad and open. "I don't know. I think bleeding to death outside of the Hanged Man wouldn't be nearly so fun," she joked softly. "Besides, finding out what little rumors will spread from this might be almost as entertaining as the night itself." Provided they were not about the two of them.

"You have the scowl down very well when you're under pressure," she offered, helping him with their parcel into the main foyer. "And she didn't slip you anything, or so it looks like. I think we did well."

A soft grumble caught her attention and she turned, spotting a curled up and now awakened hound looking at her from the fireplace. He wuffed softly and she put a finger to her lips. "Shh, shh. It's okay." His entire body started shaking as his tail did and he rose to stretch. "That's a good boy." He trotted over to them, stopping only once to look at Cullen and sniff him, ears perked in curiosity. He kept looking at the basket, his priorities more than obvious.

"Whatever else comes of it, I don't think I will ever live down the crabs comment," he groaned, rolling his eyes at himself. "When I get flustered, things have a tendency to come out all wrong. That's why the scowl is perfected. It's much harder for anyone to get me slipping on that. I can hear it now. 'And then the bloody Knight-Captain of the bloody Templars came waltzing in bold as brass with the Champion and said we have crabs'." He did a more than passing impression of Lusine's accent but didn't alter his voice.

He would have been lying if he claimed the dog didn't make him a little nervous. He had no doubt that he remembered him from the day he came to take Bethany. Mabari were known for their memories. His smile came more naturally when the animal turned his attention to the basket.

"I already promised Hawke we'd share with you," he offered.

"Maker, if we weren't in the middle of a brothel owned by the Coterie, I think I would have died of laughter." Or embarrassment, whichever the case. Her smile turned reassuring. "There were worse ways we could have ended up. She might have been busy with clients and we might have waited there for an hour just to see her. And then there would have been an even smellier basket of clacking beasts to worry about." She didn't feel bad about the stain on their carpet, even if she would be paying for it later.

The dog didn't seem too interested in the Templar just yet, his tail wagging enthusiastically as he eyed up their prize. Hawke rolled her eyes at the animal. "Yes, yes, there will be some for you. But you need to behave, you hear?" If it was possible, his tail wagged even harder, his whole body shaking with the motion. She grinned and led Cullen into the kitchen.

She set the basket in the corner and moved to take off her blades, belt, bag, and jacket, draping all three onto one of the chairs. She moved to light the fire first, eager to get that going before anything else happened. She pulled down one of the large soup pots and set it down, looking for what else they might need. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to fill this up with water so we can get that basket out of here."

"You're right about that. There are so many ways it could have gone worse," he agreed. He hadn't wound up drugged or poisoned. They weren't taken hostage. No one important or gossipy had seen them together there. All in all he was thankful for a lot of things, not the least of which was the fact his leg didn't burn anymore.

"It's hard to believe they can also tear a man's head clean off," he said, following behind her.

He removed his weapon, pack, and doublet and set them aside on the same chair, the sword leaned up against it. "Don't be afraid to put me to work. I don't want to just sit back and watch you bustle around." Digging in the pack, he brought out the box of spices he had brought and set them on the table.

"Be glad he isn't after your head," she replied with a good-natured smile, despite her words. The dog followed them into the kitchen and contented himself to lay at the door, out of the way of her working for the time being. "He used to walk with my mother when she'd go shopping. She never was attacked but I know he wouldn't hesitate to tear someone's throat out to keep her safe." If she'd taken him the night she met Quentin... Well, best not to think about that. She might still have her mother or she might have lost her mabari too.

"Believe me," she grinned from over her shoulder, "You'll be put to work. But I'd rather not have you blindly roaming the house when it's dark. There'll be another time for that." She took the one pot out to fill it with water, about two-thirds of the way, until she was satisfied that nothing they put in it would cause it to overflow onto the fire.

She brought it back and hooked it over the fireplace to let it begin to boil. "We might have to make two batches, one with half of the crabs and the small ones, and the other half can be cooked while we eat."

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DW, I swear I hit 'post' last night. What happened.

I've had DW eat posts before. Could've been the code push?

Possibly. Thank you, Lazarus, for saving it.

Lazarus has saved me massive frustration so many times. I love it.

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