Skyhold 9:41 Dragon
Prologue
"You know Inquisitor, it's hard to convince me you don't like to play wicked grace when you keep that worn deck of cards in your pocket." Varric's grin widens from across the tavern table.
Sera picks at her teeth casually then nods, "right? Sometimes when none are looking at night in camp, you shuffle them."
My mug hesitates at my lips as I look into its mouth and reply, "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Right, and melons don't go squish when dropped from the roof," Sera jives motioning an exaggerated explosion with her hands. She giggles in delight.
Varric deals his cards. Bull shifts his eye from Sera to me, noting my stiff disposition he says, "hey Sera, weren't you meeting that redhead from the undercroft?" He rolls his tongue in a suggestive growl.
"Oh right, see ya Inky," she slides from her chair and proceeds to crawl under the table to leave.
Varric shakes his head and adds her cards back into the deck. Bull's green eye lingers on two kitchen girls that pass by carrying dishes, giggling amongst themselves. He smirks then raising from the table says, "actually boss, raincheck on drinks I gotta go."
"Later Tiny," Varric waves the giant Qunari away then turns his attention to me, the remaining person at the table.
"Don't bother Tethras, I'm not interested in becoming your next story," I shoot him a discouraging glare.
He shakes his head with denial, "what? I didn't even get a chance to ask," he collects my untouched cards back into his deck. "Listen, you don't pry about the crossbow, so I won't pry about the cards, but if you want to tell that story I'm here." I scowl in response, prompting him to add, "and I won't write it down."
A rigid smile pulls the corner of my mouth. "thanks," I respond unconvinced, "but some tales don't need told."
He shuffles the cards together and with his attention focused on the small fluttering rectangles of paper he answers, "those are exactly the stories that should be told."
PART I: THE CARTA
"Despite the flow of business, its members are still desperate and violent. With no strong leader to rein in their excesses, they have little sense of dwarven honor, and freely break their word, double-cross allies, and renege on deals."
—From The Stone and Her Children: Dwarves of the Dragon Age, by Brother Genitivi
~Chapter 1~
Westhill 9:33 Dragon
"You won't make it very far on your own Salraka," Fedrig's gruff voice grates at my back.
Ignoring him I walk with steady steps through the tavern doors. Fedrig has screwed me over too many times to waste a final glance at him. He expects me to return in a few hours, this isn't the first time I've ran away. Each time he lets me slip, like a cat playing with a mouse, confident my weakness will have me crawling back home. Not this time, I've made friends in dark places too and even at 13 I can handle myself. I circle into the back alley where Ishri is waiting for me.
She stands with crossed arms leaning casually against the wall, her golden eyes gleam in the moonlight as she greets me with a suave smirk, "I thought you'd change your mind kid."
I toss her the small leather pouch I pinched off my uncle earlier that day, the coins clink as she catches it, "count me in," I say as if I've done this many times.
She smiles and folds the pouch into her thin belt then hits me with a skeptical side glance, "there's no going back Rene, the Carta is for life."
"Consider me warned," I answer, my eyes unwavering on hers. I don't favor her mocking disposition toward me but it drives me to prove her wrong. All my life I've been beaten down being told I'm nothing by my uncle. Night after night it was the same, a room filled with the smell of moldy beer and his sweaty greasy hands of rage as he hit me, screaming, "you owe everything to me you useless Brand." I stopped crying over it by the time I was 6. Finding out he wasn't really my uncle helped subside the sadness at first, it justified why he didn't love me. For a few years I naively entertained that my real parents would find me. Time wised me and all that remained was burning anger. The coins I pilfered off shoppers in the market kept his cup full, as long as I could get enough for him to pass out from that piss ale he would leave me alone. I was good at stealing, until I stole from Fedrig, a merchant guild dwarf that caught my frail arm at his purse and offered mercy. I thought he was my salvation. The relief of becoming his apprentice was quickly replaced with resentment as he constantly used me as a scapegoat for failed deals, and sometimes bait for distasteful bribes to perverts dwelling in the underbelly of the city. I never expected anyone to save me. Then a month ago the Carta had a deal with Fedrig, and I was delivered as the payoff to the third party, some Orlesian slime that favored young girls. Ishri introduced herself to me by stabbing him after he took me into the back alley hovel to claim his pay. In my panic the young Carta agent became my angel of rescue. She pulled me out from under the bleeding Orlesian and told me I was tough, that I could be Carta material. Even still, I don't know why she vouched for me to join. Regardless of her seemingly selfless act, everybody always wants something, there's always a motive, I haven't determined what hers is yet, but it has to be better than staying here. "I'm
in," I declare without a second thought.
"Alright then," she runs her hand through her long black hair to pull it away from her eyes, "let's go."
Highever, 2 Months Later
Ishri winks at me from across the table as she pushes a small pouch over the surface to the nervous Templar, "here's a sample of what we can offer. Consider this one on the house."
His arrid eyes take in the bag and a clumsy hand collects it into his faded tunic.
She flashes him a perfect smile, "I'll be here tomorrow same time, same place. Have what we agreed on in the drop and I'll bring more treats."
The Templar slowly nods then looking about as if to escape unnoticed he sinks away from the table.
"And it's that easy?" I ask, watching him disappear through the back door of the dingy Highever tavern.
She spins a coin on the table, "yep, honest this job is so easy it almost loses its fun. They can't do without it so the dust sells itself." She slaps her hand on top of the coin, "just remember to always keep the upper hand. Stay confident, calm, and always in control." My Jaw clenches at her teasing tone as her golden eyes play over me.
"You don't think I can do it do you?" I accuse, my tone gruff.
"Oh sweet thing I know you can, we just have to get you started. And your temper, we need to point that somewhere else. You don't have to hit everything to make it go your way, you know." She spins the coin so it swirls over to me, "Now, are you ready?"
"I've been watching you work in this dump for the last two months, what do you think?" I flick the coin to divert it back to her.
She grins wide as it hits her hand then slowly topples from side to side before landing on the sticky table, "alright, let's go."
Highever 9:35 Dragon
My ax sinks into his soft face, I grin straddling my fresh kill. Blood slides from the blade as I pull it upward, then cry out and drive it down into the unrecognizable features of what was once a person's head.
"Hey hey," Ishri snakes her hand around my waist from behind, "he's dead Rene, stop." Her soft voice cuts through my rage, breathing heavily I flick my ax clean then slide it into my belt.
"And the product?" I turn my head to her chin on my shoulder just inches from mine, I can smell the mead we drank just a half hour before still on her breath.
"We got it," she smiles, grazing her hand over my collarbone then tucking it into my shirt pocket, "c'mon, let's go."
"Hell of a lot of trouble for a rock," I mutter, stepping over the half dozen bodies to walk beside her.
She slides me her usual sly glance, "people kill for less. I'm just glad we found an outlet for all that beautiful anger you have."
I sneer, "whatever, Hosk is an alright teacher, but he drones on too much about Orzammar and what it means to be warrior caste. He goes on and on about how a surfacer like me will never have stonesense."
She laughs and threads her arm into mine as though I am escorting her on to a ballroom floor, "he's a Cadash, they pride themselves on being from a former warrior caste straight from Orzammar, but he's a surfacer just like us, he can't go back. He says good things about you though, says you can really take a hit, you don't even flinch, even when you know you're bested."
"If he hit harder maybe I would," I boast even though my shoulder still aches and tender bruises run across my legs and ribs from our last session.
She stops to let me enter the tavern door ahead of her, "he doesn't usually give out praise like that, kid."
I pull my arm up past her head taking the door from her to trap her between me and the moldy wood. I look down and declare with quiet confidence, "I'm not a kid anymore Ishri."
A rare look of surprise spreads over her face as she looks up at me, "no, you aren't." She gracefully ducks under my arm to escape, "and when did you get so tall? when I found you 2 years ago, you only came to my chin!"
"Things change," I smile letting the door close behind us. It occurs to me like a small whisper how important to me she's become. In a whimsical moment I silently declare that I will protect her always, like she has protected me. I dismiss my pointless thoughts as she guides us over to our usual table.
We sit in comfortable silence as Flic brings us our drinks.
"My ladies," he shows his array of missing teeth and sets down our mugs. As Ishri tosses him a coin he smirks, "Ishri you beautiful thing, share my bed tonight."
She rolls her eyes and gives me the "I-could-kill-this-creep-but-he-entertains-me" look I've come to expect in these situations. She responds with a flirtatious sneer, "now you know already Flic, I don't sleep with elves, now run along and fetch us some food."
He slides away walking backwards as he answers, "well, when you change your mind..."
"Do you ever tire of the attention?" I ask with a sigh, resting my chin on my palm in mock swooning.
She flicks her chin up at me, "you know you are plenty pretty, you'd have some potential if you showed off your chest and let that lovely red hair grow some. If you wanted you could get just as much attention ya know."
I puff my chest out and deepen my voice, "we both know that isn't going to happen." She laughs so I continue, "besides I'm the muscle here, you've got all that seduction game figured don't need me in a skirt."
She giggles with me then says, "if I saw you in a dress I would assume you are sending me a code signal that we are in major trouble."
I lift my glass to hers and answer, "I'll have to keep one in my pack in case the occasion should arise!"
Our laughter is interrupted as Brecken twirls a chair over to our table, he sits on it backwards with his wrists hanging down the back, "there isn't supposed to be this much fun in the Carta, not unless I'm involved."
There is a prickle of unexpected anger in my chest as he props himself onto the table meeting Ishri for an exaggerated open mouth kiss. I down my drink and slam it on the table causing them both to look up at me.
"Easy Rene, you break that cup and you'll have to pay for it," his smile sickens me from under his sapphire blue eyes. I've never liked our leader and have done little to hide it. My obvious distaste for him seems to encourage his snide remarks.
"Whatever Brecken, I'm out, I need to take care of this," I pat my chest where Ishri passed the lyrium rock into my pocket.
She looks up at me, "alone?"
"Why not," my voice is harsh, "I can handle it."
Her expression is relaxed as she plays her fingers over Brecken's palms, "yes, I know you can."