Chapter Text
"Serah, you can't-"
In retrospect, punching the templar directly in the face was likely a bad idea. One he'd have to pay for later, but he didn't care. Hawke was livid. Normally of good humor, he had a lot of patience for the bullshit that went on his city. The only things he didn't suffer were templars that abused their positions, and slavers. Having lived in Lowtown he saw all sorts. Pickpockets, thieves, smugglers. People just trying to get by. He even had his own pocket picked twice in the last six months, but consoled himself with the fact that he could return to a mansion in Hightown, where the urchin that stole from him likely hadn't a crust of bread all week.
The templars made way for him as he stalked through their Hall. Storming up the stone steps, he approached the Knight-Commander's door and kicked it in. Dramatic, but it achieved the affect he wanted. Meredith stood up at once from her desk, hand on her sword pommel. Hawke strode forward and swept everything from the desk in one swift motion.
Meredith glowered. "You'd better have an explanation of this interruption, Serah Hawke."
"My friend was attacked in the streets of Hightown this afternoon. In broad daylight by YOUR templars. Care to explain why?"
Meredith gazed at him coolly, removing her hand from her sword. She crossed her arms. "You're speaking of the apostate, Anders."
"Yes," Hawke growled, hands curling into fists. "He was shopping for reagents and three templars thought it would be fun to harass him. When he didn't react, they beat him bloody. He had to limp home."
"Home? Surely you mean your home. I have it on good authority that he lives in a dirty hovel in Darktown with the rest of the scum."
Hawke barely restrained himself from reaching across the desk and strangling her. "Yes, my home."
"Or is it… your shared dwelling?" she asked, a smirk touching her lips.
"I-" Hawke bit his tongue. It was one thing to have a known apostate with him, fixing the city's ills, working with him to rid the town of ne'er do wells and getting involved with relieving Kirkwall of the Qunari threat. It was easy to cast an eye in the other direction when that apostate was simply a companion of the city's Champion.
"You ought to buy some curtains."
"You spying bitch."
"Hardly a difficult task. You run around with a mouthy dwarf, a Rivaini whore, an ex-communicated Dalish elf and other assorted riff-raff. What's an apostate? As long as he keeps his head down. But if it got out to the nobles that our Champion's lover was that apostate…"
Hawke grit his teeth. "Fuck you."
Meredith smiled icily. "I believe that's his job, isn't it?"
He swung, and was surprised at Meredith's reflexes. She caught his fist in a gloved hand, her gauntlet's iron spikes digging into his skin. He winced but didn't move. She was stronger than he would've guessed.
"Yes," he said.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Anders is my lover. And yes, I'm going to defend him, even if it means people judging me for it. Maybe then the nobility will get off their collective asses and do something about the way mages are treated in this city."
"You have an odd affinity for mages in general. Is it because of your sister or because of your lover?"
Hawke yanked his fist away from Meredith's grasp. "It's common sense. Mages are people that deserve to be treated with respect. Orsino is right. Your time is up."
Meredith leaned forward, finger in his face. "I'd be very, very careful, Serah Hawke, with how you address me. I do not take well to idle threats."
"Yes," said Hawke snidely, "well I'll have to make sure they're not idle then."
They stared at each other a minute longer before Meredith finally broke eye contact. She strode across the room and held the door. "We're done."
"Oh, I highly doubt that," Hawke said, pausing in the doorway. "If any of your men touch my lover again, they'll be meeting with some very unfortunate accidents in Lowtown and I promise you, not even the rats will be able to find their corpses."
He strode out, satisfied with the very loud slamming of the door behind him. Still angry but feeling slightly victorious, he hurried home to take care of Anders.