"I'm sure Zarra Cadash always sends you when she wants a sweet deal." The man grumbled, a smirk twisting his features into something hard and predatory. "It's not fair to send her pretty granddaughter to her dirty work."
Maria had her back to Beatrix, but she felt the younger woman stop her aimless browsing. Maria could almost see her sister's hand creeping toward a dagger. Bea was always so damn eager for a fight.
"But I'm just signing off on it." Maria flashed a look up through her eyelashes and smiled. "I think you did most of the hard work."
The older dwarf's expression turned indulgent in a moment, melting into something smug and satisfied. Maria let her eyes flick to the mirror in the corner, which caught Beatrix rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. Maria very nearly laughed.
"Well, I suppose there's nothing like teaching the young a thing or two." The dwarf preened his beard thoughtfully. "And sometimes, there are some good ideas rattling around in your empty heads. My boy, must be around your age. This whole venture was his idea."
"A fine one." Maria supplied helpfully. "Sure he'd have never been able to make it work without your business sense, though."
The man threw his head back and laughed, grabbing his protruding stomach as he guffawed. "Damn right he wouldn't. He thinks he can make his coin back selling to whatever cause he likes at the moment. There's really only one winner in a battle, and that's whoever is making a profit."
"That's why we're here." Maria winked roguishly. "Fun and profit."
As the words rolled off her tongue, Maria heard the door open behind them. The tang of the ocean drifted into the storefront, lifted a loose strand of red hair off her cheek. The dwarf in front of her straightened, almost nervously, and Maria looked over her shoulder.
Beatrix held the ugliest golden statuette of a nug in one of her hands that had, quite possibly, ever been created. She quickly sat it back down, sheepish and contrite as she eyed the dwarven man standing in the door from the periphery of her eyes. He raised an eyebrow.
"I was hoping you were stealing that. I keep thinking it's looking at me whenever I come here."
Bea blushed, the color rising up in her cheeks as she smiled reflexively. The man was already turning his attention to Maria and the dwarf behind the counter, who was quickly rolling up documents.
Ah, the son with too many principles who was bad for business. He was a younger, handsomer version of his father with chestnut colored hair and coal dark eyes. His eyes swept the counter, lingered on his father's hands as he brushed the documents away, then landed on her.
She didn't miss the lingering appreciation in his gaze. Still, she felt like he was pinning her with those dark eyes when he tore his eyes away from the curve of her hip. "Fun and profit?" He questioned.
"Fynn, this is…" The man behind the counter began, but Maria had stepped forward, offering her hand.
"Lika Hararr." She lied smoothly. "It's a pleasure to be doing business with you on my father's behalf. I've heard you're the best."
"And what kind of business are we doing?" Fynn asked suspiciously, very purposefully not looking at her, but behind her. Maria dropped her hand.
"We're equipping a mining expedition." She stepped just an inch closer, crowding him. "Papa's sunk his whole fortune into it, but if it succeeds… well, it will be on the strength of your blades, I'm sure."
He didn't step away, she knew he wouldn't. But it was enough of a distraction to tear his eyes from his father back to her. Enough time for the rest of the documents to disappear off the counter. The suspicious look hadn't faded completely, but there was a hint of smile around his brown beard. "Well, then you'll succeed." He declared simply.
Maria wished she had that much conviction in anything, let alone anything she actually did.
"I look forward to working with you, then." She grinned, side stepping him easily. Their shoulders brushed as she slipped past. Bea was still blushing, but looking slightly more triumphant as she fell into place at her side and they vanished out the open door.
"Lika is a ridiculous name." Bea pointed out as they rounded the corner. "What were you thinking?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Maria slipped her elbow through Bea's, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "Caught stealing? Shameful."
Bea made a noise of disgust. "Like I was going to steal that piece of nugshit. Ugly as an old deshyr's ballsack."
Maria laughed, but Bea was already digging in her jacket pocket, pulling out a shiny gold disk and waving it in the air triumphantly. "This was too pretty to be in that sexist bastards shop."
She plucked it deftly from Bea's fist and examined it closely. It was some sort of compact with a design plucked out in red crystals on its front, creating a looping image of a phoenix with its wings spread wide. "I stole it fair and square, Maria. Give it back." Bea whined. Maria's fingers found the latch on the compact and popped it open, exposing the reflective surface of the mirror to the light.
She expected to see her eyes, gray and laughing, reflecting the sun. But instead, she saw the looming figure of a wolf, six red eyes glowing, staring at her with an intent expression. She whipped around to stare over her shoulder, but saw nothing. The streets of Ostwick were empty behind her, morning mist clinging to the paving stones. Not, in fact, the way it had looked the first day she met Fynn. Instead, it was the way it had looked the last time she left it, stealing out at dawn to catch a boat to Haven…
"Maria."
She looked to her right again, meeting Beatrix's face. Except it wasn't the Beatrix who had stolen a pretty mirror from Fynn's father, laughing and fresh faced. This woman was wrapped in a thick cloak, her eyes flinty sharp, chin lifted in determination. "Bea." Maria responded, reaching out to grab her arm in breathless relief. She should feel angry, furious. Bea hadn't responded to her letters, hadn't shown her face in two damn years, but she was here and…
Bea's eyes were sparking, green lights erupting in them, but she was clutching her arm right back. Her face was white with fear, knuckles tightening on Maria's arm, nails digging into skin and drawing blood.
"You should never have went to Haven." Beatrix whispered.
She didn't wake up screaming very often anymore, but this was a close thing. It wasn't the fear, or the memory of Bea's sparking green eyes and white face, but the lightning sharp pain shooting from fingertips to elbow as if someone was trying to pull out all her veins from her skin. She gasped in rigid shock, her other hand automatically reaching for the searing burning pain, clasping the marked palm tightly.
And like that, it was gone. A lingering memory of the pain still present, a ghost of soreness in her arm. Maria curled up tightly in the bunk she'd woken up in, waiting for it to come back, as it did sometimes.
It took her about thirty minutes before she felt confident enough that the worst was over. By that time, she could see the first smears of pink outside the porthole window in her cabin. The boat rocked gently in the sea, almost enough to lull her back to sleep. Instead, she sat up and pulled her boots on, clambering out of the bunk and slinking to the door of the cabin, throwing it open.
Cole sat cross legged at the mast, a metal tin thermos in front of him. He smiled warmly up at her as she emerged, holding it out shyly. "Hello!"
"Hello sweetheart." She bent just a bit to place a chaste kiss on his unruly blonde mop. As she straightened he pressed the thermos into her hands. She cradled it gently against her aching palm, feeling the warmth bleed into her skin.
"Coffee, from the galley." He explained unnecessarily. "I'm sorry you had another nightmare."
"Me too." She sighed wearily, opening the thermos and greedily inhaling the scent. "But this is perfect, Cole. Thank you."
"You didn't answer Cassandra's letter. There's worry all over the page. You said you would yesterday." Cole fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket, anxious and endearing all at once. "She misses you."
"I'll answer her before we get to Kirkwall." Maria promised.
"You can't think of the right thing to say to ease the worry. There isn't anything that will."
Maria knew that too. But she didn't answer, because with Cole she usually didn't have to. Instead, she joined him on the wooden planks and rested her head on his shoulder. Cole smiled down at his own hands and Maria watched the sun rise over the Waking Sea.
They pulled into Kirkwall's harbor right around mid-day. Which, if Maria had to be honest, was damn near the worst time to pull into Kirkwall's harbor. It was when the morning fishing boats came back, slinging their catch in piles on the docks. Even Maria, who liked fish, didn't need to see all those glassy eyes and silent mouths moving. That was ignoring the smell.
She very gently nudged a flopping fish back off the docks with the toe of her boot, watching it splash into the green water below. Then she stretched in the sun, eyeing the looming city above her. "My lady Inquisitor, where would you like the boys to take your luggage?" The captain mopped his brow with his hat.
"Your worship!"
The Inquisition scout appeared with a solid elbow to several sailors that were blocking her way. Her eyes were gleaming nervously. "Ambassador Montiliyet said that you would not be arriving until this evening, your worship. Nothing is ready, there was to be an escort here…"
"I caught an earlier boat." Maria grinned charmingly up at the human. "Ritts, right? How's Kirkwall?"
"Well, my lady. Well as it can be. The city is in a tizzy for the Viscount's coronation. And your rumored arrival. Nobody has officially confirmed it, but it seems people assumed…"
Of course they did. Varric's book about the Inquisition had been published a month prior. By mutual agreement, and despite Hawke's vicious protests, Varric hadn't written anything about their relationship. Nothing, not a word. And, instead of dimming the rumors, it had inflamed them. Maria had been confused until she'd finally grabbed a moment to make it through the first three chapters.
It was laughably obvious that the author was in love with Inquisitor Cadash. Varric was nowhere near as good at keeping his feelings hidden as he thought he was.
"Where am I staying, Ritts? Hawke's?" Maria asked, eyes fastening onto Cole as he drifted toward a knot of children surrounding a game of marbles.
"Er, no." Ritts shifted anxiously from foot to foot. "Messerre Hawke insisted that the Viscount take up his new residence before you got here, milady. She said she wanted to actually sleep the night before the coronation."
Ritts smiled wolfishly. Maria returned it with a matching smirk of her own. "Right then, I guess you've got to have your boys lug those cases the whole way to Viscount's keep, Captain. I'll leave instructions for them."
"Y...yes, milady." The captain was blushing furiously in the sunlight, cheeks red. "As you wish."
Walking in a city with Cole was always one of Maria's favorite adventures. By the time they were climbing the Viscount's Keep stairs, Cole had managed to accumulated a broken guitar, three apples, and a letter he claimed he needed to deliver for a girl with sad eyes. Maria appropriated one of the apples, nibbling on it as she waited for Cole to tear his eyes away from the columns rising above them. "They are very large, but the dwarves built them." He mumbled.
"Probably compensating." She guessed, leaning against one of the columns herself. "Most dwarves I know are."
"Not all of them."
"True." Maria mused, sinking her teeth into the apple again. From behind them, she could hear running footsteps. A bright burst of laughter that was different and still achingly familiar before a small shape collided with Cole at the foot of the steps, her skinny arms wrapping around his waist and her head buried in his abdomen.
"Cole!" Sabina's green eyes sparkled in the afternoon light as she looked up, a broad grin stretching her pixie like features. "Vos autem mane! Where is amita Maria?"
"Hello Bean." Maria called from her spot in the shade of the column. In a moment, the child had slammed into her. Maria smelled sea salt in Sabina's wild curls, which nearly engulfed her face and Maria's. Maria realized with a start the sturdy little seven year old was nearly as tall as she was.
"Did you bring presents?" Sabina asked pertly.
"Have you been getting into trouble?" Maria winked at the child. Sabina's grin turned wicked.
"Sabina!" A woman called shrilly from the steps. "De his gradibus mos incidere vos et conteram vobis aliquando collo, pueri!"
"Mama, it's Cole and amita Maria!" Sabina sang, dancing away and back into the bright sunlight. In only a moment, Varania was beside her.
"I see, Sabina." Varania sighed, shifting the chubby toddler on her hip. She smiled gently at Cole before turning her piercing gaze onto Maria. "You are not to be here until this evening."
"I'm beginning to feel a little unwelcome." Maria huffed. "I found an earlier ship."
"Despite that, you did not beat Josephine's missive here. Her letter was squawking that you refused to sit for your final dress fitting. I am to make sure your dress actually fits you before you appear in public." Varania continued on, as serene as she possibly could be. Maria ignored her, reaching her arms out for the child on her hip. The boy had his mother's dark hair, but those were his father's emerald eyes staring at her sleepily. Instead of accepting her invitation, the little boy buried his face in Varania's tunic with a whimper.
"He's tired." Varania excused. "No hello, Eli? None for your godmother?"
"He needs a nap." Sabina complained. "Varric said we could play in the gardens, but Eli is tired and we have to go home. Papa said he'll bring me back tomorrow."
That cheered Maria up considerably. "Thom's here?"
"He is still up at the keep assisting the Guard Captain and Fenris." Varania's smile, sad and gentle, rested on her daughter's curly head. "There is much to do. He said he will stay until he must leave to go to your Exalted Council."
Maria scoffed. "There's no reason for him to go the whole way to Orlais for that debacle. I barely want to go. He should relax, here. With you and Bean."
"It would be a poor way to repay you, to sit on our thumbs here while you dance with the wolves who wish to feast on your bones." Varania muttered darkly.
"The worst threat to my life in Orlais is boredom." Maria rocked back on her heels, shrugging. "You should keep him here."
"I won't."
Stubborn as a damn mule. Maria shook her head, making eye contact with Sabina instead. The child was shifting anxiously from one foot to another, looking at the people milling around before them. "Have it your way. I'll see you tonight, fledgling."
The little boy cocked his head, peering out at her from behind Varania's blouse. Maria caught sight of a smile almost as wicked and playful as his mother's.
Varania shook her head, reaching for Sabina's hand. "Varric and Reyna have been locked in a meeting almost all day. Perhaps your arrival will free them. My brother is becoming quickly impatient."
Maria did not doubt that for a moment.
"I do not know why I must be present for this."
It was easy to slip past all the guards, all in various states of harried frustration, and to follow the sound of increasingly louder and more frustrated conversation into what she assumed was the throne room. She nearly laughed as Fenris's voice drifted into the hallway.
"Blame Hawke." Aveline declared. "She said the two of us should figure it out."
"I don't understand why assigning seats is necessary. Are they schoolchildren?" Thom grumbled.
Maria tilted her head to the side, watching as the three figures stared at pieces of paper tacked onto a wooden board. She meandered slowly into the certain of the room, looking up at the ceiling. There were frescoes painted up high, possibly of the founding of Kirkwall. It reminded her of the ones Solas had painted in the rotunda before his vanishing act.
"Have we considered allowing Merrill to do this?" Aveline asked in frustration.
"Well, it certainly is an idea. Somehow I feel as if it would end with half of them in the harbor." Thom chuckled.
"You say that as if it is a poor outcome." Fenris growled.
"The De Launcets are in a blood feud with who, again?" Thom asked.
"The Trevelyans. I think." Aveline stated uncertainly.
"The LaFailes, actually." Maria called out from her spot in the center of the room as she continued to examine the ceiling. "But they also owe at least half the Merchant's Guild here money, so don't sit them next to them either."
She barely hid her smile as all three of the warriors jerked in surprise. She let her eyes drift down to meet theirs, raising an eyebrow. "Hello."
"Maker's balls." Thom laughed, shaking his head. "Should have known you'd show up when you damned pleased."
"You are not supposed to be here." Aveline frowned severely, crossing her arms over her well armored chest. "There is a schedule, and…"
"I know Varric didn't tell anyone to send an honor guard to meet me."
"Ambassador Montiliyet and the nobles of Kirkwall…" Aveline glowered. Maria smiled charmingly and Fenris shook his head.
"Well, Josie's used to me wrecking all her well laid plans, at least." Maria added breezily, spinning on her heel in a circle, expanding her arms to take in the room. "Nice place. Bit large."
Fenris had his eyes glued, not on her (or even her hand, as he sometimes did), but on the spot of carpet she was standing on. She opened her mouth to ask, but Cole mumbled behind her softly, almost in her ear so no one else could hear. "The blade goes in and comes out the other side and he picks her up. She's so small, and she's screaming. Blood runs cold."
Maria turned, meeting Cole's eyes in bewilderment. "You're standing where she was." He whispered. "Broken wings. I didn't tell her, I'll never be able to tell her. But he did."
"Right." Maria jarred herself free of her own fresh horror, stepping out of the spot that suddenly felt much colder than the rest of the room. This was enough to break Fenris free of whatever thought he'd been lost in and he lifted his eyes to hers, smiling wearily.
"My friend." He greeted. "It is good to see you."
"Like I'd miss it." Maria winked, taking in the list of names behind the three figures. "Will you forgive me if I help, Aveline?"
"I'll consider it." The woman rubbed at her temple. "Let's get you up to Varric's rooms, first. I don't want the nobles to catch wind you're here or I won't be able to get anything done with the gawking."
"That's why I'm here. Take the heat off of Varric, at least."
"Are you well?" Thom asked slowly, sweeping his gaze over her. "You look… tired."
"Of course I'm fine." The lie was so easy, but she didn't miss the gaze that flicked from Thom to Cole over her head. "I'll take that with me and sketch out some ideas for you two for seating charts. Hawke will be so impressed."
Fenris nearly ripped the paper in his hurry to hand it to her. And the critical looks they had all shot her as she stood in front of them faded.
*vos autem mane: You're early!
*amita: Aunt
*De his gradibus mos incidere vos et conteram vobis aliquando collo, pueri!: You will fall and break your neck on these steps someday, child.
(AN) This is the sequel to "Of Miracles and Heroes", which starts immediately after the battle of the Gallows in Kirkwall. You could probably read this on it's own, but why would you want to?! ;-)