A/N: Dwarf Commoner is my favorite origin and it always will be, so I was shocked to find out that pm all my friends that have played DA:O have never played that origin. I mean I don't blame them; most people I know either go for Human Noble, City Elf, or either Circle Mage and the dwarves they encounter all suck (except Sandal, Bodahn, Oghren, and Dagna of course). I just love how the casteless dwarf, for me, is the ultimate underdog; rising up from less than nothing to becoming the beloved Hero of Ferelden. Boom. So I'm hoping that this will just be the first of a series of vignettes revolving around my f!Brosca, Kasha, but knowing how my muse comes and goes, I can't be sure. So this is all for now; I hope you enjoy, and reviews are greatly appreciated :3
Kasha Brosca had found it hard to sleep in the piece of nug droppings she had for a bed for years; she figured she should be used to its lack of comfort by now, but alas. However, that was only part of the problem; this tended to be the only time of day that she really thought about things. Her situation, what she might have to do for Beraht tomorrow, whether her sister was under someone or on her way home, sometimes even where her bastard father was, just so she'd have a setting to envision him hopefully more miserable than she was. Sometimes she thought about her mother, but if she really cared, she could peek in the other room to see her drunken silhouette slumped at the table like it was every night – she couldn't even make it to her "bed" anymore. Unfortunately, that was just the average quality of life for a duster.
With an irritated groan, she slapped her hands down on the ratty old sheet that barely covered her body. On top of her thoughts and the discomfort the bed caused her, she was clothed in the tight, remarkably dirty cloth "dress" Rica had passed down to her once Beraht started paying for nicer dresses. Kasha was grateful to have something else to wear other than the cheap leather skirt (how impractical was that) that chafed in places she wasn't aware could chafe, but the dress was tight (it had taken her awhile to grow into length-wise, but she had always been chubbier than her sister) and itchy. Using it as a nightgown wasn't her wisest decision, but after one too many instances of Rica coming home in the middle of the night only to come face to face with her younger sister's bare ass up in the air and the sheet on the floor, this was a necessity. As nice as it was to sleep nude, especially when the house grew stuffy, the risk of putting Rica through that a fourth time wasn't worth it.
Speaking of Rica, the front door slowly and painfully creaked open – her supposed way of being "quiet" in the late evening. Kasha just barely heard the light padding of Rica's feet as she tried to maneuver around all the obstacles in the main room and their slumbering mother in the dark. With a huff, Kasha kicked off the sheet. "Don't bother, I'm up."
"What are you still doing up?" Rica called back, her voice uncharacteristically exasperated, as she opened the door and stepped inside.
"You don't think I can sleep on that piece of shit, do you?" She scoffed and stood, stretching her arms over her head and wincing at the audible crack in her back. "Didn't work out with...uh...what's-his-name, huh?"
Rica put on a slight smile, barely visible in the darkness. "It doesn't matter, don't worry about it."
Kasha scrunched her nose up at that. "Does too. I will too. You tried to hide all this stuff from me once but I still found out."
"You shouldn't have to know about it." Rica clasped and unclasped her hands, looking anywhere but at her sister.
"Whatever innocence I had was gone the moment I started working for Beraht. No, screw that, it was gone the moment I was branded. She slapped her branded cheek for emphasis. "Do you think I can't handle it?"
Rica gave her a concerned look. "The first time you found out, you marched into Tapster's and stabbed holes in the beer keg with your daggers."
"Yeah, well... there's nothing here to stab. Anymore. And it's not like they banned me for it. Don't change the subject. Yeah, it pisses me off, but that doesn't mean you should hide this from me. I stabbed it because I care. A lot."
Rica reached her arm out and felt around for Kasha's hand, then grapsed it firmly. "I know you do, Kash. I wanna keep you out of this because I care. I mean... is it so bad that I want to keep you as innocent as I possibly can, while I still can?"
Well if that wasn't a punch to her resolve. She swallowed hard. "It's a little too late to start really taking care of me, don't you think?"
Rica gaped. "That isn't fair."
Kasha ripped her hand away. "You know what isn't fair? Being treated like the damn Blight because we were born, and to parents who only make it worse. How you let that get you down all this time, and how spent most of your life and mine feeling sorry for yourself and letting man after man use you and toss you around! It would have been nice if you took me into consideration at some point!"
"So, what?! My only responsibility should have been taking care of you?! Talk about feeling sorry for yourself, little sister. I whore myself out because it's the only way I can help us out, and I get sad because that's how I cope. Do you know how damn hard I worked to convince Beraht you would be more useful to him as hired muscle? So fine, I apologize for not changing every makeshift diaper and not feeding you every damn time you were hungry. I'm sorry for letting you learn how to take care of yourself and not turn out like me." She let out a sob. "But I am really sorry that you've become so selfish."
Kasha felt the tears well up, but she couldn't cry, not ever. She would instinctively ready herself for a beating if she did. "Oh, there is a fine line between whoring yourself out for necessity and being a whore just for the pleasure. You were a whore long before you were a noble-hunter." Rica was openly (and loudly) crying now, and Kasha felt like she was just kicked in the stomach by a bronto. "Okay, Rica, I'm sorry for that. But... dammit, do you know how much I've taken care of you? How many times I've dragged you home from Tapster's as drunk as mother and put you to bed? How many angry, sleazy men I've fought off for you? How I did a crappy job of trying to patch you up after some guy beat you? And fine, thanks for making me all independent, but it would have been nice to have more help!"
She had to stop to take a breath. She could power through a fight, no problem, but any argument she had drained her energy quick. "And you know what, how dare you call me out for being selfish, as if you're not! People – no, we're not even people, I forgot – things like us have to be to survive. If we don't take all we can get for ourselves, then we get nothing."
"You don't really believe that, do you? You give coppers to the people outside who don't have roofs over their heads."
"So what? One copper isn't going to get them anything. Besides, what are your plans if you give birth to a nobleman's son, huh? Are you going to rise up alone?"
"I'm taking mother, I'm not going to abandon her even if she is a drunken bitch." Kasha waited for her to finish.
"But not me, right?"
"By then, I won't have to."
"What is that supposed to mean?!" She pulled at her hair.
Rica breathed in sharply and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. "You aren't meant to wear fancy clothes, sit around, and practice bad politics. You're meant to fight."
"Oh yeah? Where? How? I'm not even good enough to die in the Deep Roads. I'm barely good enough to kill and steal from people for Beraht."
"Don't ever say that. Forget what mother says; unlike me, you were born with five coins to barter. Your hands, legs, and your mind. You...you could join the Legion of the Dead! They take anyone!
"And be considered dead? I don't need a brain to do that, Rica. That's worse than being lower than filth. I... I don't want to be dead to these damn nug-humpers. I want them to know I'm alive, loud and clear. I want them to know my name. By the stone, I want them to feel sorry they ever treated me like such shit. And when they're begging for forgiveness, or at least being nicer, I can tell them to kiss my lowly duster ass."
Things were silent and tense between them for a few moments, except of course for their breathing and their mother's obnoxious snoring from the other room. Then, very quietly, Kasha cleared her throat. "Things can't be this bad topside, can they?"
"... Is that even an option for you? I've heard of other people going to the surface and being stripped of their caste, but-"
"Then I've got nothing to lose, right?" She started laughing, an unhinged, hollow sound. "Who am I kidding? I don't know how to leave, I'll never know how. It's... it's easier staying here."
"Does it scare you?"
Silence again. "Yeah." Her voice was the closest it had been to tears in a long time. Without waiting for a cue from Rica, she went right in and hugged her tight. It only took a second for Rica to return it almost as hard. "I want more, Rica. I want to be able to make more happen."
"We all do, Kasha. At least your goals are bigger than everyone elses' in this slum. You've always been so much smarter than everyone here."
Kasha chuckled. "Nah, I'm not. I'm good at faking it; you're the one who taught me all those fancy words. If I was smart, I'd be out of here already."
"That's not what I meant." Rica pulled away so she could hold her little sister's hands at arms' length and look her right in the eyes. "You will. If there's anyone here who will, it's you."
"Hey, don't go giving me an ego, sis."
"Give you an ego? Ancestors forbid I give you more of an ego."
They lapsed into light-hearted banter as Rica readied herself for bed. It was rare for them to have time like these; their relationship was somewhat strained at best, especially lately, but Rica was capable of being there for Kasha, despite what she thought otherwise. But Rica had always been right about the younger Brosca being destined for greatness, because just the next day, Duncan arrived for the provings. And Kasha would finally rise from the nug dung heap.