Title: Don't Get Dead
Chapter: 1/4
Author: Alex Markov
Disclaimer: Dragon Age characters and locations belong to BioWare
Summary: It was a simple plan: Escort the dwarf to the warehouse then hit the tavern for a few drinks and some cards. Then the Carta showed up- and the city guard- and a Crow assassin- and the Chantry guards- and the Templars- and The Red Iron mercenaries- Looks like it's time for a new plan.
Warning: Coarse language and sexual innuendo
Author's Note- I've always been curious about Hawke's first year in Kirkwall. What kind of jobs did she do? How did she meet Worthy, Tom and Elegant? This story answers a couple of those questions. On a personal note, I've never been able accept that Hawke would be able to survive Kirkwall as a mage. There was just too much anti-mage sentiment and her actions were too public for her to escape being identified and confined to the Circle. On the other hand, I love snarky Hawke and can't understand why anyone would play her angry or virtuous when the sarcastic options are available. And, since Varric is upset that he isn't in the story, I'll let him describe her for you…
"Before Marian met me, she was a force of nature with a sharp sword and a sharper tongue. After she met me, well… she was a force of nature with a sharp sword, a sharper tongue and the best damn publicist in Thedas."
-Varric Tethras
Chapter 1- All you have to do is…
The worst thing about fighting dwarves is that the little buggers are solid.
Marian Hawke was a fairly big girl. In fact, she towered over nearly everyone she met and had arms like a blacksmith. When people met her for the first time, "lithe" and "graceful" were two words that never crossed their minds. She wasn't exactly masculine but with her powerful build, she wasn't likely to be asked to play the elfin princess either. (She spent several days a week in strength training with a Qunari mercenary who could wield a great sword with one hand and pick up a full-grown Druffalo.) She was very proficient with the long sword she carried, and the large buckler she had strapped to her left arm was used for offense as often as it was used for defense. When she put her weight behind a blow with that shield, it meant something was going to break.
Swinging the shield was an exercise she rather enjoyed. It usually resulted in a satisfying impact, the sounds of broken bones, (sometimes accompanied by cries of pain) and her victim sliding along the floor, breaking furniture, doors, merchant's carts, occasionally small hovels or storage sheds until they came to something solid, like a stone wall. Then there was another satisfying thud, often accompanied by the sound of more breaking bones and the occasional whimper. Mostly it was the humans that whimpered. Elves were usually dead by the time they hit something that didn't break or move and the Maker-damned dwarves wouldn't give her the satisfaction of falling down and sliding in the first place! The little buggers were too solid. Her best blows only got her some surprised grunts and rocked 'em back a few steps. It made fighting them less fun.
Not that she was supposed to be fighting dwarves, right now. In fact, she wasn't supposed to be fighting anyone. This job was supposed to be a simple retrieval and escort.
She had been told it was going to be simple. It had certainly sounded simple enough when Athenril asked her to do it. All she had to do was, meet the dwarf at the foot of Sundermount and escort him to the warehouse in Lowtown.
Simple right?
Three easy steps: Step one; go to Sundermount. Step two; find the dwarf. Step three; tour guide. "Over there is Kirkwall's main gate. Right here is the sewage tunnel we use to get in and out of the city when we don't want to be seen using the main gate. This is Lowtown- don't wander off by yourself. There's the warehouse, Athenril is inside waiting for you. You go inside, I'm going to the Hanged Man for some well-deserved refreshments."
Simple.
Of course, Athenril forgot to mention the carta. Why would she think it was important for Hawke to know that the carta was interested in the dwarf? Or the fact that the carta, (who was definitely interested in the dwarf) knew that he was coming into town tonight… by way of Sundermount. These inconsequential little bits of trivia had been conveniently omitted from the conversation regarding tonight's 'simple' task.
"Hey, Mary," (Athenril had a tiresome habit of using a shortened version of her name.) "Easy one for you tonight. All you have to do is..." Then there was something about meeting a dwarf coming in from Starkhaven and bringing him to the Exchange.
It was the 'All you have to do' that should have tipped her off. Whenever somebody says; "all you have to do is…" it means it isn't an 'easy one.' It means you're completely screwed. It means you're definitely going to be doing a lot more than playing tour guide. And, in this instance, it means that you're going to be fighting for your life against a dozen of the most feared, most determined, most tenacious, least scrupulous, meanest bastards on the Maker's green earth:
Dwarven Merchants.
It means that instead of lounging at the Hanged Man drinking swill and teaching guardsmen not to draw to an inside straight you're going to be jumping over another vicious cut at your legs and being disappointed by the lack of falling down and sliding that occurs after you hit one of the solid little buggers with your shield.
Hawke jumped over another vicious cut at her legs and hit the little bugger who had swung at her with her shield. There was a disappointing lack of falling down and sliding. She brought the hilt of her sword down on her attacker's helmet. The 'clang' was pretty satisfying. His eyes crossed and he staggered away, tripping over one of his compatriots. She took advantage of the momentary lull to grab her charge by the collar and drag him into the mouth of a narrow alley.
"What the hell are you doing?" He asked.
Hawke slammed her boot down on an incoming axe. "Alley's narrow." She drove her knee into the side of her attacker's head. "Can't be surrounded." She followed up with a sword thrust and spun around slamming another dwarf against the wall with her shield. "Easier to defend."
He crossed his arms and glared up at her. "No way out, either."
She kicked high, staggering another attacker back. "Maybe if I wasn't the only one fighting," she pointed out, "I wouldn't have to worry about being flanked!" Her sword flashed out and another dwarf fell to the ground.
He shrugged, "What can I say? I'm a merchant, not a Legionnaire."
"Funny, these guys are merchants and they seem to be fighting just fine." Hawke drove the edge of her shield into the throat of a dwarf on her left and used the leverage to kick out at another one to her right. "Can't you help at all?"
"They're carta merchants. Besides, I don't have any armor or weapons, what do you want me to do?"
"I don't know…" The remaining dwarves backed away to regroup. "Maybe you could throw rocks…" Hawke took the opportunity to adjust the wrist strap on her buckler and check her footing. "…or say bad things about their ancestors?" Of the dozen ambushers, four lay dead and three more too injured to be a serious threat. Five on one was better odds and she needed to get the fight over with before they sent for reinforcements.
The dwarves all wore the insignia of Hadran, the local carta boss. Two of them were looking around for a way to get at her while the other three paced back and forth in front of the alley just out of the reach of her long sword.
"Stay here!" she muttered.
"What are you going to do?"
"What do you think?"
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Not die."
With that, Hawke dove forward and tucked into a roll that bought her to her one knee in the midst of the carta dwarves. Her sword flashed out twice and she rolled to her left narrowly avoiding the great axe that struck the cobbles where she'd just been. She thrust upward and split the dwarf in front of her, following the spray of his blood toward the last remaining ambusher. Using her shield like a plow blade, she charged and slammed full into him, lifting him off his feet and forcing him back through the air until he slammed into a wall. She continued driving forward and was finally rewarded with the sound of breaking bones and a weak groan as his last breath dribbled from him.
She turned to see the last of their attackers on the ground and her charge kicking him repeatedly. "You couldn't do that when there were twelve of them?"
"What… was… that?" he panted between kicks.
"What was what?" Hawke dispatched the dwarf at his feet.
"Diving into the middle of them with no warning and no plan!"
"I warned you." She moved around the area prodding bodies with her boot. "I had a plan!"
"I hate to break it to you, but 'Don't die.' isn't a plan!"
"I didn't say I had a plan for you, I said I had a plan." She gestured around at the dead dwarves. "And it worked." She wiped her blade clean and sheathed it.
"Plans generally contain more than two words!"
"Do a lot of battle planning, do you?" She jerked her head to the side. "Come on, we've got to keep moving. No telling who heard the commotion and the last thing we need is to run into the city gar—"
She was interrupted by a cynical drawl, "Well, well, well… Marian Hawke…"
Hawke's shoulders tensed and she let her head loll back on her neck. She sighed, "Hey, Jascen." Glancing over and seeing the tall red-headed guardsman's glower, she rolled her eyes. "Sorry… I didn't mean to act so familiar with a member of Kirkwall's elite… guardsman Jascen." She performed a perfunctory curtsey.
The guardsman gestured to his partner to stay back and casually strolled around the scene. "Hawke, why is it that whenever I come across a pile of dead bodies, you always seem to be nearby?"
"First of all, I'd like to point out that these dead bodies are scattered, not piled." Hawke said, then her face fell into a pout, "Also, why is it my fault that you never take me anywhere nice that doesn't have a pile of dead bodies next to it?"
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, "What's your story this time?"
Her eyes widened in mock hurt and indignation. "Why, guardsman Jascen, whatever do you mean?" She put a hand to her forehead and swayed slightly as though she was going to swoon. "I was just escorting my good friend… um…" She fumbled for the dwarf's name and couldn't remember it, "…who is visiting from out of town…" she covered, "to the Hanged Man for a quiet drink, when we were set upon by… uh… four of these ruffians!" She crossed over to drape an arm over the dwarf's shoulder. "We barely managed to dodge their ambush and we would have surely perished by their hands if these other eight hadn't shown up and come to our defense." She doffed her helm and held it over her heart, "I am truly humbled by their sacrifice and I only wish I knew their names so I could extend my gratitude to their families." She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Perhaps if I was to give a small token of that gratitude to an honorable guardsman, like yourself, it would find its way to its rightful place?" She spun toward Jascen, deftly replacing her helm. When she stopped a few inches away, her right hand rested on his shoulder and a small coin pouch had appeared, dangling from the fingers of her left.
The guardsman stared at her through narrowed eyelids for a moment before crossing his arms.
"Come on, Jascen, these little guys are obviously carta. I'm doing the city a favor!" She said, jangling the purse and wiggling her eyebrows.
Jascen rolled his eyes and growled but he snatched the purse from Hawke's hand and weighed it briefly before he tossed it to his partner. "Maker damn you, Hawke, would it kill you to let me have one night where I don't have to cover for you?" He shifted his impressive glare to the dwarf. "I don't know what she told you, friend, but the Hawke here is three kinds of bad luck and ten kinds of trouble. If I were you, I'd find another guide."
Hawke reached up to pinch his cheek, "Aw, Jascen, sweet talk like that…." She let her hand trail down his neck to his other shoulder, "a girl would think it was Valentine's day…"
He reached up and grabbed her wrist, pushing her away. "First, give me back my badge. Second, keep that hand away from me, I can still smell your sister on it."
Hawke twisted out of his grip and spun away, tossing him his badge. She grabbed the dwarf by his arm and pushed him toward a side street. "Come on, my-good-friend-who-is-visiting-from-out-of-town, we need to make tracks before a real guardsman shows up." She turned to face the guardsman, and continued walking backwards, "And, Jascen…? I diddle my sister with the other hand, the woman you smelled on that hand was your wife." She turned away but paused to look over her shoulder. "Not that I'd expect you to recognize her scent." With a raucous laugh, she caught the dwarf's shoulder and led him away at a fast trot.
To be Continued...
Author's Note: supplemental- Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of "Don't Get Dead." New chapters will come out every week. Follow the story to get notifications of future chapters directly to your inbox or just come back next Friday. Favorites and follows are awesome but nothing strokes the old ego like a hand-crafted review. So, drop me a line and let me know what you think. Every signed review gets a response. AND, since the story is complete, a preview of the next chapter! (What?)