K is for Kith

"Good work."

The oddest thing about working with children is that they'll beam at the slightest positive comment. The girl in front of her, Fereldan with plaited dark hair and features that Athenril has heard called Avvar before, is fighting down a grin, fidgeting where she stands. Athenril can't help her own small, answering smirk, as she closes the pouch of contraband Tevinter goods and smuggled opium. Nothing's even missing, as far as she can tell.

The girl has promise.

She's clever and quick and listens well but not too well. She's also just shy of ten. There's still time to raise her up right, make sure she knows the ins and outs and how to keep herself safe. Athenril has never been the maternal type, but sometimes-

"You. We need to talk."

Ah. The ginger brute.

The girl - Hilgrud, Athenril reminds herself - stares up at the very tall guard captain, daring to show her face in full regalia in this part of town, without backup. With a motion of Athenril's hand, the girl darts behind her. Athenril divides a part of her attention to watch her pockets.

"You've gotten pretty ballsy, haven't you," Athenril said, not a question but enough to pluck at Aveline's nerves. "I'm working."

"I thought Hawke would have made it clear to you the other month - no children."

There's a touch at her hip and for a moment Athenril thinks the girl is filching, but then tiny arms wind around her leg. She tries not to kick the girl off.

"You came all this way in all your pretty armor just to tell me that? Priorities, guard captain." She knows ears are pricking at that. "I'm doing nothing illegal by giving a few children a chance at enough coin to live comfortably."

"Nothing illegal. As if that would even make a difference to you," Aveline snorts. "It's unconscionable."

"And murder isn't? Theft isn't?"

Hilgrud whimpers.

Aveline shifts uncomfortably, arms crossing over her chest in a rattle and scrape of metal. "None of it is. But I can't ignore everything."

"And would you rather this girl be out on the streets by herself? Or perhaps you think some slavers or pettier brothels should be teaching her a trade?" Athenril drawls, though there's anger boiling behind her words. "Or maybe she should just beg, and hope a kind man takes pity on a little foreign girl? Let's be honest here. Realistic. Tell me, what would you have her do?"

"Send her to the chantry. They take orphans, Athenril, for this exact reason. Getting them off the streets, somewhere better-"

"They don't always have the room," Athenril says, cutting her off. "Especially not for grubby foreign children with no money to back them up, no rich relatives coming to retrieve them someday. She's lucky enough that she's not an elf, you know. But ten years old… that's a little old to tug at their need to be charitable." She shrugs. "Besides, I'm sure that's the first place a good girl like Hilgrud went."

There's a quiet sound of assent from behind her.

"So. Another option, then, guard captain?"

She thinks she can hear Aveline's teeth grinding, and experimentally she reaches behind herself to stroke the girl's hair. "I'm waiting. Hilgrud's waiting. Or maybe you're realizing that you just don't understand. What do you think, Hilgrud?"

Hilgrud looks up at her with wide, frightened eyes, and Athenril makes a note that there's still some hardening left to do yet.

"Make her go away," Hilgrud says at last.

Aveline looks away sharply.

Prying Hilgrud's hands away from her leg gently, Athenril walks up close, close enough to rest a hand on Aveline's breastplate. The woman flinches but doesn't retreat, and so Athenril rises up on her toes and leans in close.

"I take care of my own, and you know that. The girl is as safe as any other place she could find here, probably safer. Back off."

She settles her weight back on her heels. "Will that be all, guard captain?"

"Yes," Aveline says, stiffly.

Athenril expects another threat, another roaring snarling snap to try and make her retreat, but she gains nothing more than Aveline's back and her retreating, harsh steps. Biting down a sigh and shaking her head, Athenril turns back to Hilgrud. She reaches for her pocket. "So. Let's see. For that work- five silver?"

Hilgrud pouts - and holds out the sovereign she'd plucked from Athenril's hip belt.

Athenril laughs. "Oh," she says. "I like you."