Authors Note: I'd just like to thank everyone who has reviewed, and put this story on their favourite and alert list. It's very much appreciated.

/

/

Kirkwall – Thirtieth of Parvulis 9:31 Dragon

.

.

.

"You should stop staring at her." Isabela said as she rifled through the pockets of a recently deceased thug. "You've been doing it for two days, and it's making her distracted. You healed her, she fine."

"She's fine, for now." Bethany replied.

"Are you expecting some sort of delayed wound?"

"No. But she's going to get hurt again. I just know it."

"Sweetness," The pirate stood up and shoved the few coins she'd found into her pouch. "we spend most days going out and killing stuff. Sometimes those things get a few lucky shots in before they go down. Of course she's going to get hurt. We ALL get hurt, including you."

"But it was bad. Really bad."

"It. Was. A. Dragon." Isabela punctuated every word with exasperation.

"I know that!" She huffed.

"Then stop worrying about it. Hawke is tough, and she has you to help her if she gets into any kind of trouble."

"What if I'm not enough?"

"You are. Now stop moping, I don't like it. There's only room for one moody Hawke, and you're sister has filled that post." When she giggled, Isabela rubbed her arm and smiled warmly. "That's more like it." The pirate bumped her shoulder playfully. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, I heard Hawke say something about buying us a round in the Hanged Man."

"I'm pretty sure she actually said 'I'm covered in someone's guts, I'm going home'"

"That's not what I heard." The rouge waggled her eyebrows at her before running off to catch up with her sister.

Merrill came up beside her as she started to walk in the direction of her comrades, the elf was smiling and she couldn't help respond in kind. She could see why Marian had a soft spot for her, even if she was a blood mage. "Why do you look so happy then?"

"I'm having a nice time."

Bethany quirked an eyebrow. "We just got attacked. Again. Last time I checked, that is not the ideal basis for a nice time."

"I suppose not. But it's not what you do; it's who you're with. And I'm with you, and Isabela, and… Hawke."

She spotted Merrill's cheeks and ears turn a different shade, even at this time of the evening. She was all too familiar with a great many women and men having that response when it came to Marian. Herself included.

"So you like my sister then?"

"Oh yes." The elf bobbed her head. "What's not to like? She's smart and pretty…"

"…Rude, obnoxious, bad tempered…"

"But she's not really like that though is she."

Bethany shook her head. No, Marian wasn't really like that. But she apparently was so selfish she tried to make the elf think that her sister wasn't a nice person, just so she didn't have to contend with someone else's attempts to steal Marian's affections from her. "No Merrill, she isn't."

"She brings me food when she comes to visit me. I don't always remember to eat it though."

Marian visits her? She didn't know that. "You should eat." She said with annoyance.

"I try. I do." The young elf looked up at her with watery eyes.

Maker! You are such a cow. "I just don't want you wasting away. Please try and remember. Put a note up somewhere 'Must Eat Something' Otherwise you'll get me standing in the corner of your room shouting at you to have some bread."

"Why in the corner?"

"Well, I don't want to be intrusive do I?"

Merrill laughed. "That's very thoughtful of you."

From around the bend they heard Marian shout, "To the Void with you woman! I want a bath!"

"You are such a spoilsport Hawke."

She and Merrill made their way towards the two women. Isabela looked like she was having the best time she could have, and until she saw Bethany, Marian looked like she was about to punch the pirate out.

"Bethy!" Her sister strode up and gave her a handful of bits. "Go for a drink with the wench so I don't have to listen to her anymore." And then she marched off towards Gamlen's.

"How much did she give you?" Isabela asked as she bounded up to them.

Bethany looked down and counted ten coppers. "Enough for three mugs."

"Your sister is a miser."

"How much were you hoping for exactly?"

"I don't know. But that will barely get me tipsy."

"You didn't annoy her enough."

"I know. I almost had her, but then you two came along." Isabela shook her head disappointedly. "Can't take you people anywhere." The pirate turned on her heel and sashayed towards the tavern, beckoning them with her finger. "Come on. Varric had a merchant's guild meeting earlier. He might be drunk enough to not notice how much booze he buys us."

"You're just full of optimism today aren't you?" Bethany smiled.

"That's me!" Isabela said, turning around briefly and giving her a wink.

There was a lot that could be said about the Hanged Man, and very little of it was good. The ale was watered down, or so she'd been told, most of the patrons were old men trying to grope the women, and some of the other men if they were too drunk to notice.

Then there was the smell… It was hard to put your finger on what it was exactly, but for the first few weeks of going there, Bethany felt like the inside of her nose was being burned. She'd mostly gotten used to it now.

It wasn't all bad though. Gamlen didn't spend much time there; he spent most of his days in the Blooming Rose. So, that was something.

"Rivaini!" Varric bellowed happily when Isabela entered the tavern. "And Daisy! And Sunshine!" He added after he noticed the two mages walk in behind the pirate. "What are my three favourite ladies doing here?"

"We couldn't bear being apart from you, you fiendishly handsome dwarf, you."

"I get that a lot. Will you be joining me for a drink and a game of Wicked Grace?"

"I never say no." Isabela said as she straddled a chair next to Varric.

"So I've heard." Bethany smirked, and took a seat next to a chuckling Merrill.

"Cheeky!"

"So where's Hawke?" Varric asked as he held up three fingers to Nora, and then pointed to the table.

"At home, being a fuddy-duddy. Doing whatever fuddy-duddies do." The pirate said, picking up the cards and shuffling them.

"Do you suppose she's read the fuddy-duddy manual?"

"Varric! She wrote the fuddy-duddy manual. Because she is the fuddy-duddiest of them all!"

"You realise you're talking about my sister, right?"

"Relax Sunshine. We mock, because we care."

"You must care about a lot of people then." Bethany gave the dwarf a crooked smile.

"Touché!" He shouted, and lifted his mug in the air.

"Are we all supposed to be doing that?" Merrill asked with confusion. "Because we haven't had our drinks yet."

"Nora!" Varric called to the waitress. "You shall have a silver coin if you can bring four mugs before I finish the one I have in my hand."

"Maker's Breath Varric!" Corff said as he watched the barmaid in a blur from behind the bar. "I've never seen her move so fast."

In the few seconds that passed, everyone in the tavern waited to see who would come out victorious, and the whole room erupted in howls of excitement as Merrill called the winner.

Varric handed Nora the coin with a smile, and turned his attention back to the rest of the group. "Now we shall drink!"

"Touché!" Merrill lifted up her cup, and then looked around at the amused faces. "I thought that's what we were supposed to say." She mumbled, sinking as far down on the seat as she could.

Isabela looked at Bethany, then they both looked at their dwarven companion, and the three of them raised their mugs and yelled. "Touché!"

This went on every time they had a drink, until the rest of the pub got so annoyed of it, that they started throwing shoes.

After a few hours, and several mugs of ale, they were all relatively merry. Merrill was leaning against Bethany's arm, singing in a language that she didn't understand. She guessed that it was probably Elvish. Varric was regaling a small crowd on the adventures of Hawke and company, and Isabela was flirting with one of the young men at the bar. All in all, it was a normal night at the Hanged Man.

And she liked normal.

She only wished that Marian were here, having a good time with her.

She sighed, louder than she'd intended, and the young elf stopped singing, sat as upright as she could and gave her a concerned look.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She replied softly.

"Really? Because that sigh made my brain wobble."

"I'm sorry I gave you wobbly brain." Bethany smiled. "I really am fine, I think I just drunk too much."

"Me too." Merrill said as she collapsed back onto her arm. "Do you think Hawke will change her mind about coming here tonight?"

"Probably not."

"That's sad."

"Yeah."

The two of them heaved a sigh together, and Merrill resumed her singing, while she started thinking about what she always thought about whenever she was drunk. Why had it been Marian?

Was it because her sister had been her hero ever since they were children? So many of her memories of when they were young were of Marian saving her. Whether it was from bullies, falling from a tree, or Templars. It didn't matter what; her big sister would protect her, sometimes putting her own life at risk.

Had this lifetime of hero worship somehow transformed into what she felt now? In the stories the Princess always gets rescued by the Prince and then they would fall in love and marry. So what happens when the Prince is your sister?

This was why she didn't like drinking. She would end up having too many questions that were unanswerable.

"You two look like a couple of sad sacks." Isabela scolded the pair as she sat down.

"I've never seen a sack that was sad." Merrill lifted her head slightly. "Unless they're always sad, and I didn't know this whole time. Aw, do you think it's because they have to carry so much stuff? I know I'd be sad if I had to carry stuff all the time." The elf bit her lip for a moment. "Do you think there's something we could do? What would make a sack happy?"

"The plight of the Unhappy Sack is a sad tale Kitten. I'm not sure we should get involved."

"Anders has his plight. Why can't I have mine?"

"No one ever listens to Anders though. Whenever he preaches, it goes in one ear and out the other. But if you feel this is something you have to do, then start small. Make their load less burdensome."

Bethany shot the pirate a look that screamed, Stop encouraging her ! She was ignored. This was going to be the Plight of the Wounded Coast all over again. But with sacks.

Once Varric got involved in the conversation, all other subjects were off the table, and the three of them began coming up with a plan to save the poor bags who have to work hard every day without any thanks.

She wasn't sure which was worse. The fact that the people she chooses to spend time with are obviously crazy, or, because that was the reason she liked them.

She didn't have a lot to add to the discussion, but she enjoyed listening to them. They were like a very strange, dysfunctional family, who cared about each other very much.

"Sunshine?"

"Hmm?" She turned to Varric. "Sorry, I was miles away."

"We could tell. So are you with us on this Plight? Or are you with The Man who wants to keep the sacks in his greedy grasp of power?"

As she opened her mouth to answer, the door of the tavern swung open, and she, along with the rest of the patrons, turned to see what the commotion was. "Marian?" She didn't know why she asked that. It was clearly her sister, but a part of her brain needed clarification because she was dressed in normal clothes and she looked dishevelled.

The older Hawke slammed the door behind her and scanned the room carefully. The off-duty guard looked like he was about to wet himself when her gaze finally landed on him, and she stomped her way towards him.

"Hawke."

Marian acknowledged that Isabela had called her name, but then she turned back to the guard. "I need your sword." She demanded.

"My sword?" The young man swallowed. When Marian nodded, he took it out of its holder and gave it to her with a shaky hand.

"You'll get it back." She said as she grabbed the hilt, and swung it around to get used to the balance.

"Hawke!" The pirate shouted this time. "What is going on?"

"I'm being chased." She said, as if having to explain it was some minor inconvenience.

Bethany stood up immediately, and the other three followed soon after. "Maybe you should take his shield too." She pointed to the guard her sister had just harassed.

"I don't like shields."

"How many of them are there?" Varric asked as he got Bianca ready for battle.

"How should I know? I didn't stop to count."

"There's no need to be like that." Isabela said. "We'd just like to know what we'll be dealing with. Do you even need us? You're more than capable of taking on an army."

"Do I look like I'm prepared for a fight to you? I don't have any armour on, and the only weapon I have is this itty bitty knife."

"Dagger." The pirate corrected. "And why are you dressed like a hoity toit?"

Bethany saw hesitation, before her sister frowned and grunted. "This isn't the time."

When the door flung open again, everyone who had a weapon got ready to defend themselves, and at the sight of Aveline looming in the doorway, they all relaxed. A little. "Oh good, you're not dead."

"That's a terrible greeting." Merrill frowned.

"What are you doing here Man Chin?"

"What can I say? When I saw a lone figure running through the streets of Hightown, being pursued by an armed mob, I just assumed that it was someone I knew." The guardswoman gave Marian a pointed look.

"You thought it was me didn't you?" Isabela asked smugly.

"It crossed my mind, yes."

Bethany stomped her foot on the floor. It was childish, but it got their attention. "Before you two start bickering," She paused. "Any more than you already have. Could we get some details? Like how many people were in this mob?"

And why was Marian in Hightown?

"I counted at least ten." Aveline put on her serious face. "I saw them head towards the Alienage."

"Ten. We can take ten." She looked over to her sister, gave her a quick smile and took a deep breath. "Let's move out."

When they got outside Bethany could hear the shouts, and she held onto her staff with a firmer grip. "Which way do we go?"

"Sounds like they've spread out."

"We head towards the Docks." Marian said, taking the lead.

"Why there? We can fight anywhere." Isabela asked.

"I want them as far away from Mother as possible."

"Ah."

"Any more stupid questions?"

"Not right now, no." The pirate replied as they headed towards the steps.

They made it to the Foundry before the mob caught up with them. Bethany was surprised they had managed to get that far, as they hadn't been especially quiet. Four slightly drunk people and a heavily armoured guard tended to make some noise. Unfortunately there was more than ten. Either Aveline had grossly miscalculated, or the angry people with swords had picked up some stragglers along the way.

"Bloody, buggery, bollocks!" Isabela cursed as she unsheathed her daggers, then she turned to the two mages. "You know what to do."

Bethany grabbed Merrill's hand, pulling her farther into the alley and Varric moved so that he was between them and the front line. She aimed her staff at a nearby thug and threw an arcane bolt his way, once he was distracted Aveline knocked him with her shield. Two clusters of archers grabbed her attention and she concentrated on her elemental spells, making it rain fire and Merrill added to it with a lightening storm.

One by one they picked off each attacker, and once it was over they caught their breath, revelling in the calmness. Isabela was the first to start pillaging, as usual, and as the pirate got on with that, the rest of the party took in the carnage. There were at least twenty bodies, most of them dressed like the usual thieves and bandits they came across, but a handful of them wore proper armour. Aveline nudged one of them onto his back with her boot and she bent down to take a closer look. She removed the scarf he had around his neck and wiped the blood from his breastplate.

"I know this emblem. It's from one of the noble houses." The guardswoman turned to Marian with a furrowed brow. "Why were they after you?"

"Beats me. I don't recognise them."

Her sister is a terrible liar.

"Oh, I do." Merrill put up her hand. "I've seen them help that nice lady who sells the potions."

Lady Sodding Elegant.

"Hawke, what did you do to piss her off?" Varric asked as he put Bianca away.

She didn't like Lady Sodding Elegant.

"Nothing!"

She really didn't like how Marian and that woman would sneak off together when they were still working for Meeran.

"I smell bullshit."

Elegant wouldn't want Marian hurt. But a husband whose wife has been unfaithful would.

"I second that."

They'd all just risked their lives because her sister had to have her end away!

"You stupid bitch." She spat out the words like a bitter taste. "I can't believe you."

"Bethany!" The slap across her face stopped Marian from saying anything else.

"Don't! Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it." She clenched her fist and decided it would be best if she just walked away. There were raised voices behind her, accusations being thrown about, Isabela and Aveline calling Marian every name under the sun. She could still hear them as she went passed the Hanged Man.

"Sunshine?"

She stopped but didn't look at him. "Varric, I'm angry, I'm drunk and I'm a mage."

It wasn't a threat, and he understood that. "Okay. But if you need to talk after you aren't at least one of those things, you know where I am."

"Thanks."

When her sister eventually got home, she pretended to be asleep; it seemed easier than outright ignoring her. She was still angry at Marian for what she had got them into, but she was also angry at herself because she hadn't been able to stop her jealousy from taking over.

She felt a hand stroke her cheek and then heard a whispered, "I'm sorry."

Those words didn't fix everything, if they fixed anything at all, but she knew her will was weak when it came to her sister. She pulled the blankets over and Marian climbed in next to her. "Goodnight Sister." She said as she took hold of the warm hand that had just rested on her stomach.

"Goodnight Bethy."