[Redd]

[ Topic Reviewed - Post-War ]

Obligatory This Contains Dragon Age Spoilers [nothing new here]
Also TW for Suicidal Intent

Well. She'd done it.

Ice blue eyes glanced back towards the party and a small, genuinely happy smile played across the woman's lips. She'd been mingling earlier but... well, the day had started off finishing the trek home, being greeted at the hold's gates, and from there it was a series of meetings and speeches and... well of course, the partying.

She was an experienced diplomat but well, today was something. Maybe it was just the sheer amount of emotion resonating through the hold. Everyone, and she meant everyone had wanted to be around her, to either express gratitude or just congratulate her on the victory. And Maker, her ribs were starting to hurt from all that hugging.

[3 BP awarded (feel free to take over)]

[Redd]

Her inner circle, Varric, Dorian, Sera, among others had sort of assumed the role of her guard throughout the day, making she wasn't receiving... too much unwanted attention. Eventually, over the course of the day, everyone filtered out, finding friends and loved ones. In their place, there was more speeches and her advisers, needed her to discuss the future of the Inquisition and then there was even more speeches following decisions made there.

So right now, she was feeling all partied out and she wasn't planning on drinking too much. She... wasn't a graceful drunk, especially when she was so worn out like this. She had a bad tenancy to get overly... friendly or just find some corner and pass out, which wasn't exactly her goal. Not just yet anyway.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

"Hey!"

the woman flicked her eyes up towards a trio of people leaving the hall, one not so much walking as being led.

"Not enjoying the party?" A thick Orlesian accent called out from the smaller woman, struggling under the weight of the armour clad male in between them. "Ugh Maker, you're such a lightweight." was a mumbled follow-up as she tried to readjust the weight.

"I am, I'm just... taking a breather." Ashe reassured, raising an eyebrow and watching the two women nod knowingly before escorting the male out.

Ashe shifted her weight on the extravagant blue and white lounge, running a thumb across her wine glass, idly trying to rub out a print.

Well, there was one person who had been unusually absent throughout the day. Granted, she wasn't even supposed to be here still.

Hawke.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

Hightown, 4 years ago...

Hurry up Hawke.

Hawke placed one hand on the door frame, tipping her head only a fraction to make sure they hadn't been followed. Behind her, a blonde woman had curled up in some small corner of the room, her hands pressed up against her mouth, stifling terrified sobs. Right. Okay, the coast was clear, good. Hawke pressed her lips together in a grim frown before pushing the heavy wooden door shut and turning in the lock, the last rays of light from a nearby fireplace being snuffed out instantly.

And within a second, the assassin pressed her fingers on a small quartz laden ring and turned the jewel once with a click and a small witchlight was released. The little orb of light floated to the top of the celing and cast a dim light around what seemed to be the keep's storeroom.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

Okay, time to deal with this situation. She lazily turned around and inspected her find with bored aqua eyes.  One small (not actually small, the woman towered over her when she actually pulled herself to full height, noting here, Hawke was a little below average herself) blonde woman, check. Nobility, so headed towards the party in the upper levels, like herself. Blue dress, diamond accessories. So rich.

With careful steps, Hawke drew closer and crouched down, fingers brushing against the woman's neckline to pry out a pendant. The blonde flinched and drew back, ice blue eyes staring back. So she had some spark, that was good, Hawke exhaled sharply in amusement, dropping the shiny silver charm and drawing back to full height. It was a horse, stylized in the usual Free Marcher way, but a horse nonetheless.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

Ostwick then. Extremely religous family, from what she knew. Heavy on the military. Also explained the ceremonial broadsword the woman had been carrying around but refused to use. They were considered a high priority threat across the holds and judging by the girls dress, she was pretty tight with that family. The assassin lazily toyed with the hilt of her blade and paced the room, trying to work out what to do next. If the girl wasn't going to talk...

"Please.. no. I'll give you anything." A timid squeak cut through her train of thought. Oh? So she was talking now? That was a nice change.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

All considered, Hawke was helping her here. She huffed and rolled her eyes, before turning back towards the woman and kneeling down, so she was level. "Serah," oh, here we go, that caused her to sit up a bit more defiantly. There was nothing like a good bit of misusing honorifics to rile up a noblewoman. "I don't want anything. Those two lads were bothering you, right? We're taking a nice quiet break in here until they calm down. And don't end up on the pointy bit of my sword." Hawke reached out a hand and rested it on the woman's shoulder, trying to peer under her curly fringe and assess how the other woman would take that bit of information.

See. Helping. Hawke to the rescue and all that. And this time, she didn't stab someone, lucky them.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

"Who... are you?" Was the follow-up reply.

Okay. That wasn't what she'd expected. If anything it was angry yelling and flailing, maybe some abuse over serah vs messere (which to be honest was a bit presumptuous but she was all about getting any reaction at this point). Easy question though.

"Me?" she feigned innocence, before pushing up a sleeve to reveal her house crest, inked on her skin, before dipping into a mocking bow. "Lady Hawke. Champion of Kirkwall, Assassin, thief, mischief maker, demon hunter, fetcher of useless general goods, and saviour of small blonde haired women at parties, at your service." She straightened back up with a wolfish grin, clearly quite pleased at her own introduction. Of course she was, she was goddamn great and no one should forget it.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

The blonde's brow was quite furrowed though, so maybe she missed her mark. "Though, er, Champion of Kirkwall is probably the easiest to remember. They also were going to run with 'most sane' but that that was a little on the nose." she quickly followed up, just in case she risked losing this girl.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"... As in, the Hawke?" Ah. It wasn't confusion, more of a thoughtful look.

"The one and only. What do they say about me I wonder? Does the Blonde Woman have a name, or must I refer to you as that the entire night? Or, I know. How about just 'Lady'? That works for me." Hawke happily responded, casually leaning against a heavy shelving unit.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

The woman perked up a little at that, cheeks flushing and an indignant expression crossing her face, replacing the one of fear before (and it was almost reaching horrified, what had she been thinking about).

"N-no! I'm Ah-Lady Trevelyan. Ashe Trevelyan. Of Ostwick." she hastily stammered out. Then she fell into silence again, only for a few seconds, before her cheeks flushed red and she blurted the next bit out. "They say you're a rogue who fights like a demon. That's all I know!" Clearly a lie here, but Hawke wasn't going to push.

So she was right. Trevelyan, that was a big-ass name. She'd kidnapped the daughter probably of the head of house Trevelyan, that was... probably a big deal. "So... Lady Ashe Trevelyan of Ostwick..." Hawke trailed off thoughtfully for a second, before continuing. "Yeah I'm just gonna shorten that to Lady. Much easier to remember. Anyway. Mind if I ask why you were crying just a few minutes ago? I know being whisked away by a big bad scary Bad Influence such as myself if a horrifying prospect but you were upset well before that happened."

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

Ashe stared back at Hawke, fuming a little and resisting the urge to bite, by the looks, before diverting her eyes downwards and hugging her knees. "I... It was really nothing." she mumbled leaning forward into her soft dress, blonde curly hair spilling over her shoulders.

Hm. Okay. Maybe sympathetic Hawke was needed. She could do that. "C'mon. I wasn't actually going to stab them." ... She was sure that was not sympathetic. And it was also a straight up lie. Okay. Basic human behaviours, basic concern. You could do that Hawke. It surely wasn't hard.

She knelt back down beside Ashe and softly smiled, though this time she kept her distance.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

"Were they going to hurt you? I know it's rough for women at these sorts of things. Why do you think I wear dress armour and carry swords? These... are designed to look decorative, but trust me, they're the real deal. My name invites far too much trouble these days." Again, probably not comforting. Ugh. Hawke had no idea how this shit came naturally to some people. Isabela? Merril? Even Anders? They had this shit down.

Meanwhile Hawke had to remind herself of basic social behaviour when she was interacting with people she didn't know. Sure, she could charm the socks off someone or seduce marks easily and hell, if she knew she was getting something out of it, she could put the mask on and be that sympathetic shoulder or whatever they needed. But just... out of kindness? This stuff didn't come naturally.

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

It was tough. And sometimes it just exposed just how... poorly socialised she'd been growing up.

Ashe shifted a little, biting her lip. She looked like she really wanted to say something, but for a few minutes, she just sat in silence. Hawke let her, after a little, breaking eye contact and looking away, up to the shelves. And then finally. "If... I don't marry... I'm being sent to the Chantry to become a sister." was the quiet mumbled response.

Hawke scowled, her brows knit together furiously as the thought sank in. Religious families, right. "Let me guess. You're Ser Trevalyan's daughter but you are faaaar down the food chain." she answered, turning back to the woman, who was looking more embarrassed at this point. "Well, you're not going to find much quality marriage material at these sorts of things."

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

"Something like that." Ashe grumbled back. "I don't want to get married though. Especially not to someone I don't care for. They're all pigs."

Hawke snorted in amusement, she was not wrong. She only really turned up for the food and booze, the company was to torment at best. And well. It would look bad if the Champion wasn't putting on a forward face considering their viscount was... well. Dead. Didn't want to give the neighboring cities an excuse to invade now, did she? "Hmm." Hawke tapped her chin thoughtfully, casting a gaze over the woman. A practical problem, this she could do. "Here, pass me your sword."

[3 BP awarded]

[Redd]

Ashe frowned and gave a hefty sigh but she did comply, unbuckling her scabbard and passing it over to Hawke who... "Andraste's tits." Hawke growled, shuddering a little bit at the unexpected weight. "You've been carrying this all night?" Hawke shot a furious glance at Ashe, trying to work out how on earth this woman had been carrying that around all night. She wasn't dainty by any means but she wasn't built either.

"I... ah, yeah? That's... just my sword. I take it most places." Ashe answered, tilting her head in a mildly confused manner.

"Right. Just anywhere. See mine are made from a lightweight metal, that's why I can take mine 'most places'. I thought this was some ceremonial thing. You know how to use it?" Hawke complained, passing it back over to Ashe, admittedly a little sore over the fact that Ashe just... seemingly was a goddamn tank.

[3 BP awarded]