"Relax Saemus, you look fine."

Saemus shook his head, looking in the mirror to see if the ink had dried. Hawke was wearing the grin that Seneschal Bran complained always heralded trouble. Saemus thought it heralded the beginning of something fun. He smiled as he watched the other people around the room—all of them young ladies and gentlemen—adjusted their robes, going over escape routes and exit strategies in hushed tones. Those dressed like regular civilians were conferring with the runners, making sure everything was in place. The air held a quiet excitement, tense with the thought of what they were about to do, and what Kirkwall would think. He knew he would be recognized and held to account for his actions. His father would have a heart attack if he knew what was about to happen.

"Serah Hawke, remind me how you managed to drag me into this again?" he asked, although he already knew what she would say.

Hawke looked up from the mirror, making sure her own ink design was just right.

"You were all fired up to try and get people to see that the Qunari were not the big hulking monsters Sister Petrice painted them to be, and I persuaded you with my womanly charms—" she batted her eyelashes looking like the very picture of innocence, "—to take up the fight for equality in Kirkwall."

"Did you hear the rumors about Sister Petrice?" he asked, poking through his pouch of smoke bombs.

"Only tavern tales," she shrugged. "The best one I've heard so far involved her running away and marrying Ser Varnel in Orlais, after he rescued her from a bunch of cultists who were going to sacrifice her to their High Dragon Overlord in the Bone Pits. It's anyone's guess what actually happened to them."

"You don't believe the stories?" Saemus inquired.

Hawke shrugged noncommittally again.

"What another person does is none of my business, until it is my business." She smiled sweetly and looked around, examining the crowd. "Ready to go?" she asked.

Saemus took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach, and nodded.

Hawke grinned and clapped her hands, holding them aloft until the quiet murmurs had died down.

"Friends! You all know why we're here today. Some of you support the cause, the rumors, the whispers, the idea of a Kirkwall that is run not by fear and paranoia, but by people striving to be the best we can be, and to do the best we can do by each other. Others among you are here simply for the fun of upsetting the status quo." She paused, grinning from ear to ear as a ripple of laughter rose from the crowd. A few looked sheepish, others matched Hawke's grin with their own.

"And that's okay! It is in the name of a good cause. Now, be safe, those of you in groups be sure to remember your partners, and if you meet any of the other groups from Lowtown or Darktown, don't make eye contact or any sign of recognition! It's just business as usual." She paused again to let the tittering die away.

"Be aware of your surroundings and escape routes—especially those of you in Circle robes, if you see so much as a glint of armor, or hear the clank of plate mail, run like dickens to a safe house. If they follow you there, remember the secondary escape paths through the sewers. Yes, I know it smells," she added as several audience members wrinkled their noses, "but the benefit of wearing mage robes is you can squeeze through tight places, whereas a Templar cannot. Last and not least," her face went lax, as her words slipped into an even monotone, "please have a pleasant day."

Giggles and laughter erupted once more, as people filed out to their assigned locations, the Chantry bells announcing it to be just past noon.

"That was good." Saemus spoke with approval, as Hawke turned back to him. Her lips curved slightly, until she burst into laughter.

She covered her mouth, but her eyes danced with the light of merriment. "Oh! I can't wait to see my friends' reactions when they see me dressed up like this! Anders and Fenris might both just keel over in shock!" She dissolved once more into laughter, bent over and clutching her stomach.

Seamus barely managed to suppress his own laughter, choosing instead to chew on a Deathroot leaf. The bitter taste made him grimace, but calmed him down as the numbness spread. He offered one to Hawke, as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Thank you Saemus," she said, still grinning, as she skipped out the door with a wave, "Good luck out there!"

"You too! And remember the Tranquil don't skip!" he called after her. He took a final deep breath, schooled his features into a look of blank complacency and stepped out the door.

Author's note: Thanks to EasternViolet for editing and beta-ing!

Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of that universe's contents belong to Bioware, I'm just visiting.