-Swords and Shields-

Shields. Magical barriers. Lyla wanted to bang her head against the nearest hard surface- but considering that was the Wesley's armour that wouldn't be the best idea. So the man just stood there without her face against him, looking in morbid fascination as the ogre smashed it's fist into a barrier and bellowed in pain when it bounced off.

The shield shattered immediately after that, of course, but by then the Bethany was already by Lyla's side. Her 'precious baby sister' was shivering in fear, crumpled to the floor but Maker she was safe. Safe. Nothing in the world could compare. Except maybe the giant monster charging her.

"Oh are you kidding me?!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Not-Carver looked frankly terrified, though if it was at her or the ogre could be debated. The world refused to give her a moments respite? Fine, she could live with that- but the ogre wouldn't. Oh, no, it definitely wouldn't. It had to go.

Now she was sure that the terrified look that the others had was because of her. She understood, however. She had let her magic get a hold on her, which was a Very Bad Thing. But it worked, it worked, by the Ma-

No.

The Maker didn't have anything to do with this. Belief had not helped her. Don't tell that to the Templar, though.

Looking around her slowly, she checked off everybody in her group. The Wesley had managed to back himself against a rock, the Not-Aveline standing in front of him with a protective scowl on her face. Not-Bethany was still crumpled at Lyla's feet, both of the mage sisters breathing quickly. Not-Carver was some where on the other side of the flames, but she couldn't see him.

"Carver?" She called, trying to squint past the greasy smoke. "Carver?!"

"I'm alive!" He shouted back. A blurry figure moved on the other side of the black smog, waving it's arm. Lyla assumed it was the Not-Carver. "Is Bethany okay?"

Everyone was alive. Everyone was safe, for once. "I did it," She whispered, tears springing to her eyes. She beamed down at the Not-Bethany. "I did it." Her younger sister just stared up at her, still shaken. "Everyone's alive!"

She laughed, a bitter broken burst of sound that caught in her throat more than it made sound. Blinking did little to stop the tears, but the smile refused to leave.

She stayed by the Not-Aveline's side through out the boat ride, apologizing profusely about the fact she hadn't, actually, managed to safe everyone. The woman took it pretty well, considering, and didn't blame Lyla. She understood that Wesley had gotten poisoned by the Blight before they even 'met,' and that there was no cure to being a Ghoul.

Lyla actually doubted the part about there not being a cure to the Blight, and made a memorandum to look into that. After all, what was the point of having all the time in the world if you couldn't do anything about it? Maybe Lyla could find a way to keep Wesley alive, and the Aveline would be much happier. The Knight-Commanded always needed more Templars to keep the crazy mages in check. Then the Aveline wouldn't need to join the Red Iron with them, since Ser Wesley was a Templar and could get into Kirkwall just because of that.

Lyla didn't think that the Aveline liked being in the Red Iron. Mercenary business didn't fit the red-head, but a smuggler's life did even less. The Not-Carver seemed perfectly happy with it, however, and the Not-Bethany just went along with it as long as Lyla stayed close by her side. And Lyla was always by her side. Hardly any job was taken that didn't have the whole group going out together. The Meeran was quick to realize that Lyla really didn't like having her little group separate, and was 'nice' enough to make sure it didn't happen very often. She wasn't taken any chances. And if that meant she had to make her "boss" piss himself, then that is what will happen.

In the mean time, she practiced with her magic, trying to make stronger barriers, or more barriers, or bigger ones that would encompass more than one person. She tried to change the barrier from just magic to one of fire, or ice, or one that would explode into lightning. It wasn't really successful, and she was getting a bit irritated with her magic. One point, she threw down her staff and started cursing at it, claiming to hate magic and it's useless unpredictability.

That was also when she learned that the people in the Red Iron were a lot more sly -and bored- than she thought. Especially the rogues. She wasn't actually sure what they were trying to do after her tantrum until she was standing in a ring with a dagger in her hand.

Fighting with blades was clumsy work for her. Being a mage, she wasn't used to movements like that. Mostly her teachers laughed at her attempts. The Not- Carver did as well. But Lyla did try, going through the exercises anyone would show her, listening to everyone's advice. It was mostly a game to people, a point of amusement. She didn't let that deter her. She was still terrible by the time the year was up, but at least she could fight a little bit with a dagger and didn't have to rely only on her stupid, unpredictable magic.

"I am going to learn how to fight," she told the Not-Carver one day when he was drunk and had fallen out of his chair laughing at her. "And not just with magic."

"You almost took out his eye!" The Not-Carver howled back, his words almost unintelligible. "He was standing behind you!"

The Not-Bethany just smiled shyly from her position next to the Not-Carver. It was clear she agreed with him, no matter what she said or did.

"You're crazy," Aveline informed Lyla as the warrior stooped down to help the Not-Carver back into his seat. "We only have a few weeks before our year is up. Nothing will change in that time."

Lyla puffed out her cheeks in a pout, gripping her borrowed daggers. Her shoulders slumped, she returned them to the ever-patient Klaus. I'll just learn more next time, she thought. I have all the time in the world. "Okay, fine. I'll stick with magic for now."

Every one nodded in approval, though some of the rogues looked sad that their fun had ended.

"What, seriously?" The Varric said, looking at Lyla like she was nuts. "You want to know how to Stealth? What kind of mage are you?"

The Not-Carver snorted next to her. "I thought you said you knew about us?" He taunted the dwarf. "You agreed to work with us and you didn't check to see who we are first?"

"Well, I did!" The Varric said defensively. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"I thought everyone knew that Lyla is obsessed with becoming a rogue," the Not-Bethany asked innocently.

"I thought everyone knew she was crazy and should avoid her," Aveline countered, "and yet here he is." This made the Varric look uncomfortable. Feeling pity, the red-head decided to explain. "Hawke is obsessed with learning to fight like a rogue. She says her magic is 'stupid and unpredictable.' "

"I'm feeling the love!" Lyla said in a melodramatic fashion, putting a hand to her forehead and pretending to swoon. "Oh, the love! It's making me faint!"

The Varric put his face in his hands, sighing. "What have I signed up to? I shit you not, you people are the weirdest I have ever met."

"You should have done more research on us," the Not-Carver said sagely, nodding all wise-like and actually sounding smart.

"Shut it junior," the dwarven rogue hissed.

"I'm so glad we're all getting along," Aveline said sarcastically, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

Lyla, feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the fact that she had lost control of the situation, tried to steer it back to more rogue-related topics. Specifically, how to Stealth. But then she remembered something that they had neglected to tell the Varric. "Oh! Something else you should know." She smiled sheepishly at the suspicious look that the dwarven rogue immediately gave her. "There's actually another person that goes on our adventures with us occasionally. She's a Dalish-elf mage named Merril. She's sweet, but a bit naive and scatterbrained."

The Varric groaned something that sounded suspiciously like "there's more of you?"

"Don't worry," Lyla said comfortingly, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Soon, you'll be as crazy as us."

"It is pretty contagious," Not-Bethany agreed. The two warriors nodded along.

The Varric, looking like he might cry, quietly went through his reports again. Only the repeated assurance that these people were one of the best at what they do kept him from calling the whole thing off. But Maker, did he hope that those reports were correct.

"Andraste's tits!" The Varric yelped in surprise, staring with wide eyes at the small pile of corpses. "Maker, but that was fast!"

The group looked at the rogue in amusement. Their latest foe was only a small group of Dart bandit's, not something that was to write home about. Lyla went about, methodically looting the corpses like usual, Chomp right at her heels. The dwarf just looked on with amazement as the warriors stood guard, cleaning their weapons like usual and making sure no one was still alive.

"I could be in the barracks right now," the Not-Aveline grumbled like usual.

"Aveline, you know you love coming out with me!" Lyla told her, like usual. "Besides, it's a much faster way of getting rid of all the big-baddies that live in Kirkwall."

The guards-woman gave her a slightly disgruntled look, but ultimately dropped it. Lyla hid a grin by facing the dismembered cadaver in front of her. It was just another girl's night out for the two.

"Can we go home now?" The Not-Carver whined. "The jobs done and I'm hungry." No one could disagree with him. After shuffling around for a bit, they conceded to his point and trudged off.

"You're still the weirdest people I've every met," the Varric informed them as they all made their way back to the Guard's Barracks to drop off the Not-Aveline. He didn't sound nearly as distressed the second time.

There was an unspoken agreement between the two twins and the Not-Aveline. It was never said aloud, but both sides knew the price if they didn't hold to it. Lyla pretended not to notice it, but it was always there. The way they acted, the meaningful glances, how they changed.

So, she was "crazy." That was fine. But she didn't allow that to interfere with her battle prowess, or the safety of the others. Nothing came above protecting the rest of the group, and they all understood that. They also actively tried to go against her.

It was a bit annoying.

They can tell her not to waste all her mana on barriers for them, but that didn't mean she was going to stop. They can try to keep her out of the middle of the fight, but she wasn't going to sit back. They could even try to go on jobs with out her, but she still showed up. The disappointed looks they gave her was not dissuading. They had to be alive to disagree, so Lyla was okay with it.

Meeran didn't take kindly to her threatening him, however. He threw his weight around to show everyone who was in charge. Lyla went off on a job, and when she came back she found off Meeran sent of the rest of the group on a job while she was away. Meeran strutted around like some peacock, sneering down at her. Lyla was angry at her "Boss," but there was really nothing she could do but wait.

And wait. And wait, and wait.

After a few days she realized what Meeran had done.

The Red Iron mercenary group didn't take kindly to having their leader killed. That was fine. Lyla didn't take kindly to having her party-members killed off, either. Especially if it was just to save face.