***several months earlier***

Hawke fixed her most charming smile as she stroked the pile of fleece she had set on the counter minutes before. "It's good fleece, Lars." She told the owner of the town's one and only general store.

The old man regarded the fleece, laid out on his counter. Then he cocked his head and spat behind him. Hawke's disgust was visible only by a raised, arched, eyebrow; she made sure her charming smile remained constant. "And tell me, Melaina Hawke, what makes your fleece different from the fleece brought into me by all of the other farmers near town's edge?"

She had to make this deal. They needed the money to buy supplies for the planting season. But bartering with Lars was like banging one's head against a wall. Malcolm had left for the Bannorn, with what profit the family had left from the previous year and the hope of purchasing a new plow horse at one of the many spring festivals held there. Which meant that the honor of banging one's head against the wall fell to Malcolm's eldest.

"Why just look at it!" Hawke said lightly flipping her brunette ponytail over her left shoulder as if to dismiss any doubt towards the quality of the fleece. "So clean you're more like to eat off it than wear it."

"My customers seldom eat off the fleece they buy from me store." Lars returned flatly.

For a small moment, Melaina's charming grin faltered. Her father had made this look so easy! Lars's customers indeed! Out of the 75 families living in the small village they "seldom" eat off of their fleece. The loony! She had half a mind to curse him and stalk away. However, failure was not an option. So Hawke squared her shoulders and flashed Lars a sweet grin.

"This yarn, though." Hawke continued her pitch, taking out several hanks of woolen yarn. "Feel it, Lars! So soft you'd swear it was spun silk and as a matter of fact, it was spun painstakingly by the artful hands of a noblewoman from the Free Marches. "

Lars idly regarded her with a hand resting on his chin. "Your mum, then?" He asked at length.

'Sod it all!' Melaina mentally cursed, careful not to let her ire show in her face. Behind her, Bethany-mere days into her thirteenth year, was contentedly looking at hair ribbons and seemed to be completely oblivious to the goings on by the counter. That was just as well, Hawke decided, Bethany didn't need to see her sister play hardball with the old codger.

Letting out a strangled cry, Melaina reached across the counter to grasp the store owner's arm and positioned herself to let Lars see a bargaining chip that her father never possessed. "Please, ser!" Hawke whispered urgently, knowing by the shopkeeper's gaze she got his attention. "Please, my father is counting on me to sell this to you. He's never asked me to do something of such importance before and…I truly do not wish to disappoint…" She trailed off, biting her lip for added effect and adjusting her body so as to work it to her advantage.

"There, there now." Lars told Hawke's chest. "I'll give you five sovereigns and thirty silvers for the whole lot. Provided your mother's yarn is what you say it is."

"It's all that and more." Hawke promised softly as Olaf placed the coin on the counter, just as Bethany stalked up and gingerly placed one red and two blue ribbons on the surface. It was almost in the same gesture that Lars took away fifteen silver from the pile.

The old man noticed Hawke's incredulous look and leaned over to explain. "Them ribbons are imported so that'll be fifteen silver." He gave a bark of a laugh as Malcolm's eldest's face lost all of its applied sweetness. "Got 'em from Denerim." Lars explained.

Hawke sneered and reaching into a small pouch of her own slapped fifteen of her own silver on the counter. "Take it, then." She growled, the honey long gone from her voice as she took the full payment and the ribbons in one swift, angry, gesture and haughtily stalked out of the store with Bethany in her wake.

The sisters stepped out into the chill of the afternoon, pulling their cloaks a little closer. The mother, used to the temperate climate of the Marches would say with a long suffering sigh that Ferelden had but three seasons: winter, not winter and not quite winter. Despite the chill in the air, it was most normal for the country in the early spring. As the sisters stepped into the street; Bethany regarded her sister silently, watching the anger seep slowly out of her system.

The dusty road they stood on was the only one in town and it led only three places: into town, out of town to the Wilds and to the Chantry. Those who lived in town lived along the way from the entrance of town to the Chantry while others (at least ¼ of the families) lived outside the limits, working as farmers or trappers. The Chantry had but a single chanter, a reverend mother and an initiate. The two templars stationed in the town were increasingly senile, though pride kept them from retiring. It was the perfect place to stay for a family of apostates.

"You didn't mind paying for them did you?" Bethany wondered softly, oblivious to the extent her sister went through to barter with Lars.

Hawke's expression melted into one of fondness. She silently shook her head 'no' and affectionately, wrapped her arm around Bethany's shoulder as they walked. Bethany leaned into her sister's embrace and took the ribbons out to examine them in the crisp spring sunshine. "They are rather pretty, aren't they, Laney?" Bethany offered, using a nickname Melaina only allowed a select few to use.

Melaina turned to her sister with a wry and said lightly. "And expensive. Imported from Dererim? My dear sister, your tastes are rather sophisticated in your old age."

Bethany smirked and haughtily looked away from her sister with her nose jokingly high in the air as she tucked the precious ribbons into her little leather pouch that held the various trinkets of a thirteen year old girl. Once they were safely inside, Hawke snatched it out of her sister's hands and placed it on the loop of her belt while the fleece's profits went around her neck. "Lest you forget, I bought the ribbons?" Melaina reminded, putting emphasis on the word "I". "There's no need to have you take the ribbons out on the way home only to lose them in the mud."

Melaina's sister's jaw dropped in indignation. "I do no such thing!" She protested.

Hawke raised an eyebrow in reply, her upper lip curling to make an odd expression. It was an expression their father would often employ and one (much to the chagrin of their mother) Melaina inherited. "So it was Carver, dressed as you, who lost Mother's new dwarven silver fork and spoon in the mud!" Hawke exclaimed sarcastically feigning shock and surprise. "How many times have I told you two? Switching places only works when your twin looks exactly alike."

Bethany bristled with indignation. "I was seven! And I only ever dropped a purchase in the mud just that once."

Hawke threw back her head, laughing at the situation. "Aw, no worries, birthday sister!" She cooed in a babied tone. Bethany's cheeks flushed as a young man, closer to Melaina's age gave her a quick wink as he slowed his pace to step aside for the sisters to pass.

He was a handsome lad, swarthy skin, dark hair and a very nice smile. Bethany's breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. She knew him by looks only, not by name. He was close to Melaina's age but Carver and Bethany didn't really associate with the older village children. The road got extremely narrow as it led to the outer lying farms and the Korcari Wilds so that only two could walk abreast. Even so, Melaina brushed into him as they passed. While she paid it and him no heed as she continued teasing, Bethany could not help but feel a quick little jealous pain.

"Nothing will make you terribly, terribly-HEY!" Melaina halted in her teasing, her hand on the vacant spot on her belt, and shouted at the young man who had turned and was sprinting off to the tree line on the forest.

Before Bethany could say anything or register what was happening, Melaina had taken off after him, profanities that would make their mother blush on Melaina's lips.

"Oh, Maker!" Bethany sighed before taking off after the thief and her sister.

He led them through the forest, placing logs, high sitting roots and low lying branches between them. However that did not deter Hawke who chased him persistently, fresh profanities and threats on her lips. She would not let him shake her and so the thief led them what felt like miles into the forest until at last the leaves seemed to choke out the sun. Finding one's footing was becoming a difficult thing and with the thief's mind so preoccupied on running, surely he wouldn't notice….

"This ends here!" Hawke whispered, holding out a hand slightly in front of her. The spell that she used was never taught to her, but Father had warned of how magic could do its own thing in an emotional novice mage. The effect of the tree root lifting from the ground and tripping the thief was subtle yet completely interesting for Melaina to behold.

And it did the trick. By the time the thief had stumbled, Melaina had caught up. Greeting him with a right hook to the face, he fell back down. Young Hawke pinned him to the forest floor with her knees straddling him on either side.

"And here I thought being caught would be the worst outcome. " The thief commented smoothly, Hawke's position on top of him not going unnoticed. "Perhaps I should try it more often, eh Melaina?"

Hawke scowled and ripped the leather pouch from him. She had barely exchanged words with him in the five years they had been in the town. Her breath ragged, she scowled at the lad and snarkily said, "If you intend on being a master thief, Daveth, then I suggest you start stealing valuables and not…" She paused and extracted a blue hair ribbon from the pouch before continuing. "… trinkets from little girls."

A/N: Yep. I have to say I am a stickler for details and I was pleasantly surprised to recall that the Hawkes were in Lothering for 7 years and Daveth was in Denerim for 6. I began thinking and seeing as how Hawke and family didn't stay in one place for long, it wouldn't be surprising or a big stretch if Hawke and Daveth were acquainted. Either way, I hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will be up soon.