Chapter TWO

The shortcut up Sundermount was not exactly what one could call easy going. It wasn't that Aria couldn't handle it. She was just in an ill-temper. It seemed that in this day alone, she'd had her whole world turned upside down. That wasn't exactly a bad thing either—the opposite of her position now was far preferable. Opposite of poor? Rich. Opposite of unknown? Famous—or infamous, but she was quite alright with that. Opposite of pissed-on Fereldan doglord refugee? Respected Kirkwall citizen. What she didn't like was traipsing around in the wilderness while she could be finding other paying work. This didn't seem to be the kind of thing that led to much coin and favors didn't buy houses.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet, Hawke. That bothers me," Aveline said, pulling Aria up over a particularly steep part of the mountain trail.

"Just thinking," Aria absentmindedly stated, her eyes going to Bethany, checking that her sister was okay.

"That's what worries me," Aveline groused, leading the way down a much more palatable path.

"I'm not plotting. There's a difference between thinking and plotting," Aria replied.

"Well, that makes all the difference," Aveline snidely commented. "We're getting close. Weapons at the ready."

Aria drew her daggers from their sheaths on her back and lithely swung some complicated kata with them before ceasing and holding at the ready. They rounded the next bend and surely enough, there stood the aforementioned highwaymen, prepared to loot and plunder the next hapless soul to cross their paths.

Except, this group of four souls was far beyond hapless. Aria tugged the little flask that hung at her belt. Her combat expertise could be classified as a rogue: A master of stealth and subterfuge. Rogues were as quick on their feet as they were with their wit. They often served as the tricksters, the decoys, and the assassins. Aria was quite adept in this class. She could pick almost any lock she came across, and if she couldn't, she learned quickly. She could do the same with most common booby traps. She was silent as a cat when she moved, even the deftest of eyes could not discern her location if she wished it. Besides all that, she was lethal with her twin daggers, quick, agile, and rarely missed her marks.

Bethany's prowess was, of course, magic. She could wield fire about as well as any dragon while healing almost any wound sustained in battle. She was also lethal with her staff. Aria had sustained many a bruise, both to skin and ego, from her little sister.

Brawn, strength, and thick skin were Aveline's contributions. She could parry and duel with the best of them. For the rest of them, she just bashed them with Wesley's shield. She also had a particular knack for drawing attention her way should the battle prove too much for either Aria or Bethany alone.

They launched into battle, Aria impressed with Varric's skill on the crossbow he called Bianca. He was deadly accurate and hard to reach. Aria grinned her bloodlust at him as she backstabbed a particularly cantankerous highwayman who sought to kill the other rogue.

"I had it handled, Hawke!" he yelled at her when the brigand fell. His sparkling caramel-colored eyes and grin said otherwise, offering his thanks.

"Sure you did," Aria muttered, turning to survey the ongoing battle.

Aveline was driving back several of the assassins away from Bethany, who launched firebolts and rockets of ice at them all the while. A group of the bandits tried to flank them, but Aria quickly dove in to eliminate that threat. She whirled and danced, evading and slashing like a little tornado of death and destruction.

In all her years spent in Lothering, she'd always enjoyed a good fight. Carver used to hate how she'd dodge him, only to playfully shiv him in the back with a practice sword. She exploited his blind spots and quickly learned his patterns and weaknesses. It was the maddening tactic of the rogue. They were evasive and fought dirty.

After most of the afternoon had passed, they'd finally managed to clear the ambush site. Aveline was nearly strutting, puffing her chest out like a cocky little bantam rooster as they made the trek back to the city. She and Varric bantered back and forth, exchanging their respective battle stories and fueling each other's egos. Great, Aria groused in her thoughts. The last thing either one of them needed was an ego boost.

"A Fereldan in the guard. What will they think of next?" Varric laughed as Aveline finished recounting the story of the darkspawn ogre she'd helped Aria kill back in Lothering.

"You have a problem with that?" Aveline challenged, her chin going up in spite.

"Me? My family's not native either. I'm just surprised. Lots of old prejudice in the guard," Varric congenially replied, his smile genuine.

"I'll give them plenty of reason to change their minds," Aveline promised.

"You know, it's possible they're just scared shitless of you. That's my theory, anyway," Varric said. Aveline only chuckled in response.

They all followed Aveline back to the city, the trek much faster in retreat than it had been going forward. As they strode up to Gamlen's hovel, Bethany was apologizing for the status the house was in. Aveline shrugged it off, saying she was headed to bed anyway and wouldn't be staying long. Varric planned on staying for a few minutes to discuss something with Aria.

"Right, can't blame you there. You get to sleep in a place funded by the Viscount," Aria bitterly interjected as Aveline turned to go.

"You could do worse, Hawke. It's a roof."

"You only say that because you don't have to sleep here anymore."

Aveline chuckled. "Jealousy doesn't suit you. You haven't the right colored eyes."

"Oho! The stick in the mud does have a sense of humour!" Aria laughed sarcastically, joined by Varric's tenor timbre.

"Good night, Aria, Bethany, Varric," she said, nodding to each in turn. "Be at the Keep in the morning and I'll get you your reward."

As soon as Aveline was out of earshot, Bethany held up the key their mother had given her. "Care to check it out this evening?"

Aria grinned broadly at her sister, swiping the key and pocketing it. "Let's go," she said, bounding back down the steps.

"Whoa, hold on. Fill me in," Varric said, trotting after them.

"You're welcome to come along, Ser Dwarf," Aria liltingly said, bumping her shoulder playfully into Bethany's.

Bethany smiled and looked over at the dwarf as he sidled up to her. "We're going to reclaim some of our family's property from the estate Gamlen gambled away. Namely our Grandfather's will, since he seems so bound and determined for us not to see it."

"How can you be sure it's still there?" he asked, lovingly stroking the stock on Bianca, his beloved crossbow.

"We can't, but nothing ventured, nothing gained," Aria answered. "It shouldn't take long. We'll be but a few hours."

"Where exactly are we going? Hightown is the other way," Varric asked as they descended the stairs to Darktown, the undercity, and the worst part of Kirkwall. It's where most of the refugees, the downtrodden, the societal outcasts of the city congregated to eek out meager livings and try to survive. Some of the city's criminal elements operated out of Darktown—the Carta, Athenril's outfit, and some of the Merchant's Guild.

Aria stopped to talk to a friend, Tomwise, an elven merchant who specialized in potions and poisons while Varric and Bethany continued to talk.

"There's an entrance from beneath in the sewers," Bethany explained. "We're going to use that to get into the estate."

"Ugh. I should have told Norah to have a bath ready for when I get back," Varric grumbled.

"We could be getting some coin for the expedition, Varric," Aria chimed in as she rejoined them. "Besides, the sewers will prepare you for the Deep Roads, if we ever get there," Aria said as they swiftly navigated Darktown's narrow, filth-ridden passages. Aria and Bethany had frequented the place under the employ of Athenril and were familiar with many of the denizens lurking about. Aria handed a few coppers to some of the urchins as they passed.

"Maker help us," Varric sighed, not at all looking forward to the expedition's dangers. He was all too happy to reap the profits, however. "I hope the Deep Roads are cleaner."

They reached the sewer entrance and found the cellar door Mother had told Bethany about. Aria slipped the key into the lock and turned it, meeting heavy resistance at first. The rusted mechanism broke free after a few hard twists and they pulled the door open.

The dank smell of fecal matter, dust, and mold assailed their noses and Varric gagged. Aria covered her mouth and nose with the kerchief she kept in her pocket, warding off as much of the stench as possible. They reached the finished part of the cellar, away from the sewers, and dispatched of the slavers there. It wasn't a hard fight by any means. Aria was actually a little disappointed. They quickly climbed up the steps to the Amell Vault, having found the key on one of the slain mages under the slavers' employ.

Aria searched the room, saving the largest chest in the far alcove for last. In the other chests and cupboards within the Amell Vault, she found a portrait of their mother, the Amell crest, and a fair bit of coin. She picked the lock on the last chest, wrenching the lid open on severely rusted hinges. Bethany dug through it and squealed as she pulled an important looking scroll from within.

"This is it! Grandfather's Will! Mother needs to see this as soon as possible!"

Aria grinned broadly, feeling as though a small justice had just been accomplished. "We'll take it to her right now."

With renewed vigor, they raced back through the sewers up into Darktown, then into Lowtown. Having an interest and experience in deciphering legal works and contracts, Varric read over it as they jogged, relaying the will's contents to the women. They escorted Varric to the Hanged Man before racing jubilantly home. The whole endeavor in the cellar had only taken an hour and a half, much to Aria's pleasure. She was fond of sleeping.

They burst through the door, hearing Gamlen and Mother talking across the room.

"So I'm just saying, blood's blood and all, but you are taking advantage of my hospitality," Gamlen said, his visage speaking of treachery and his voice that of a sniveling child trying to get away with something, "It's only fair if you make something of a…monthly contribution—"

"You sold my children into servitude!" Leandra shouted back at him, her voice rife with indignation. "Now you're asking me to pay rent?"

Gamlen's face flushed and he looked utterly sheepish. "Er…maybe just something to put towards food…"

At this, Aria cut in, angered hotly at the way her unsavory, slick uncle was trying to play her mother. "Actually, with all due respect, which is of course, none, you should be paying us, Uncle. We found the Will."

Bethany unrolled the scroll and began to read to herself, a haughty expression on her beautiful face. "He forgave you, Mother. Grandfather left you everything. Here! Read it!"

Leandra took the scroll from her daughter and Gamlen was absolutely squirming. "Er—ah—I should maybe—"

"To my daughter, Leandra, and all children born of her," Leandra began reading aloud, "The estate in Hightown and all associated revenues…"

Aria pointed to a paragraph on the parchment, then glared at her uncle, saying to her mother, "Check out the part where Gamlen is left only a stipend—to be controlled by you."

"Gamlen, how could you?" Leandra gently asked, her tone hurt but not condemnatory.

"You're the one who ran away, Leandra. What happened to 'Love is so much more important than money'?" he sniped in response.

"It is!" Leandra shot back.

"You didn't even come home for the funeral!" Gamlen counter-accused.

Leandra sighed in exasperation. "The twins were a week old!"

"We all have our burdens, Leandra," he whimpered unsympathetically. "Mine was looking after a life you abandoned. How long was I supposed to wait?"

Aria derisively snorted at that. "I doubt you let the ashes get cold."

Gamlen shot her a particularly ugly look. "I took care of Father. I stayed! And on his deathbed, all he could talk about was Leandra. Look, Sister, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it, but I did. And there's nothing I can do to get it back."

Ah, finally! An apology! Aria thought, looking back to her mother.

"I don't expect that, Gamlen," Leandra gently said. She went back to reading the will, her fingers caressing the parchment lovingly. "It's enough to know Mother and Father didn't die angry. I'll petition the Viscount for rights to reclaim the estate. Maker willing, you'll have your 'house' back within weeks."

At this, Gamlen scoffed, piquing Aria's ire again. "You don't have the coin or standing to even get an audience with the Viscount. You've got to be someone in this city to live in that house again," he spat.

"Then I had better get started," Leandra quipped, disappearing into her bedroom.

"Maker's breath, I can't stand you lot," Gamlen said, striding towards the door.

"Pfff, feeling's mutual," Aria sniped, laughing as he slammed the door in her face.

She turned to her sister, who was positively beaming. "Oh, Aria! I'm so happy we retrieved those things for mother! I can't believe Gamlen stole Mother's entire inheritance! I mean, I can believe it—that's the worst part. I could never turn against my own sister like that."

Aria hugged her sister, saying, "You're a far better person than Gamlen could ever be."

"Well hopefully we'll be out of here soon. You know, when we went to look for that Will, I thought we were doing it for Mother, for what she lost. I didn't realize how much it would mean to me. To know I had grandparents who didn't hate me."

Playful spitefulness sparked in Aria's gold-brown eyes. "They might have been alright with the Fereldan thing, but just imagine if they knew you were an apostate…" She dodged the half-hearted punch Bethany chucked at her, giggling impishly.

"You're such a wretch! I was just hoping it would be different this time. Here in Kirkwall. We're not running away again. We're coming home."

They sat together at the little table that served as their dining table. "Are you unhappy here?" Aria asked, pondering her own answer to that question.

"I wish I could do more for Mother. Carver's death… It's killing her slowly, every day. But maybe if we could reclaim some of what she lost, it will help. I'd do anything to get us back a normal life," Bethany replied, tears misting her eyes.

"Why did Mother and Father work so hard to keep you from the Circle? Would it have been so bad?" Aria queried.

"I guess at first…I was just a little girl. They didn't want to lose me. And once I had learned anything, what would the Templars do to an active apostate, not just a mage-blood child? It changed their lives, your life, Carver's. All because of who I am. Sometimes I wonder if it would have been so bad to be with my own kind, to serve the Chantry as Andraste demands," Bethany lengthily answered, her brows knitting together, her eyes still misty from unshed tears.

Aria took her hand from across the table and squeezed gently. "We're going to make this our home, Bethany. I promise you."

"I hope so, Sister. I'm so very tired of running."

Aria smiled, then stretched and yawned.

"Yeah, it's bed time," Bethany softly said, mimicking Aria's movements.

They both traipsed into their shared bedroom and quickly dressed in their sleep attire. Aria blew out the lantern and clambered into her top bunk. She really needed a bath…

ooooooo

The following morning, Aria met Aveline at the Keep's enormous doors. It was far too early for pleasantries, so the walk to the guards' quarters was a silent one. Aria was thankful that Aveline was not much of a morning person, either.

"There's Jeven's office," she said as they reached the barracks. "Wait while I explain our initiative."

Aria shrugged in response, holding her arm out as though she were ushering the warrior into the Guard-Captain's office. Aria couldn't quite make out all that Aveline said, but the captain's response was loud and clear.

"I don't know how they do it where you're from, guardswoman, but I decide the patrols, not you and your whims! You may have been up for lieutenant in your first year, but I'll have no show-offs in my command! Have I made myself clear? Report to your post, before I have you and your Fereldan accomplice jailed!"

Aveline stormed out of his office, her face about as red as her hair. Her feline-green eyes shot vicious sparks of the hottest fury.

"Well, what a charming fellow," Aria grimly said as her friend reappeared.

"I don't have to like him, but he could at least listen," Aveline spat. "Bandits are dead—that's all that should matter. It's not the first time he's made me wonder like this. Something is very wrong."

"Oh here we go," Aria said rolling her eyes. "I have a feeling I'm getting dragged into something much bigger than this started out. This is probably a bad time to discuss my bill with him, hmm?"

Aveline regarded her with haughty incredulity. "He'll jail you, I don't doubt that. The rest, though…" she said, trailing off, lost in thought for a moment. She turned to Aria as though a momentous realization had occurred to her. "Well, the duty roster will have my next patrol. Sounds like I'll have plenty of time to follow you around. Threaten my friends…not letting that one go, Captain."

Aria followed her as she stalked over to where the duty roster hung on the wall for all the guards to reference. A female guard came up as soon as they reached it. She was built like Aveline, muscular, almost brutish, but slightly shorter and with shorter hair.

"Aveline! I owe you for clearing that ambush last night. Saved me a mess of trouble."

"Brennan! That route was yours?" Aveline inquired. Aria could see the gears turning again.

"It was. Single patrol. I'd have been dead for sure," Brennan answered her, her thanks genuine.

"A lone guard isn't much of a patrol," Aria quipped.

"Shouldn't need to be. That route was clear for weeks," Brennan explained. "First noise out of it was your big fight. The captain reassigned me after what you did, and I passed the satchel to Donnic for his patrol tonight."

Aria was momentarily confused. "The satchel? Guardspeak for what exactly?"

"Pay and order assignments," Brennan clarified for her. "Captain has us run deliveries to the outposts during light duty. It's usually an updated copy of the roster. The satchel for that night was heavy, though. Anyway, thanks again, Aveline. You're a good one!"

Aria and Aveline watched her walk away. None of this information boded too well. It pointed to things that stirred up far more trouble than either of them was really comfortable with. Still, Aveline's upstanding moral fiber would not allow her to let it drop.

"So, the satchel was heavy the same day we discover an ambush."

Aria groaned. "You're sure you want to pursue this? This is your superior we're talking about."

Aveline's lips spread in an uncharacteristically vindictive smile, which then suddenly faded to acute worry. "If a guard was put at risk, a good captain would want to know why. And if he's not a good captain, I want to know why."

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable lie that explains why your captain arranged this," Aria silkily stated, her mocking undertone not lost on Aveline.

"I'd be willing to hear it, but not while a guard may be walking into a trap. Brennan said Donnic…a good man," Aveline said, turning and examining the roster again, her finger sliding down the parchment as she searched for the name. "Donnic… Donnic. I've got his route. A night walk in Lowtown."

"Oooh, perfect for a first date," Aria sarcastically sniped. "Right, so I expect I'll see you tonight then?"

"I'll be at Gamlen's at sunset."

"Of course you will," Aria all too blithely said. "And the sleep deprivation starts anew," she muttered under her breath as she left the barracks.

She meandered around Hightown alone for most of the morning, checking the merchants' wares and dreaming up a wish list for future purchases she would make. The weaponsmith had a lovely pair of dwarven daggers she'd taken a shine to. The armourer's stock was not at all rogue friendly. She hated being bogged down by pounds upon pounds of heavy armour –she needed to move freely when she fought. There was a merchant advertising "fine goods" named Hubert and she decided to have a look at his wares. She was pleasantly surprised when Varric and Bethany joined her.

"So, how'd it go with the Guard-Captain?" Varric asked as he and her mage sister stepped up to her.

Aria rolled her eyes, then launched into a summary of the goings on in the Keep, her voice lilting and chastising. "Our reward is not being jailed. Aveline's on the warpath. We're going to assist her tonight in busting another set-up and then watch Aveline's career go down in flames when she accuses the Guard-Captain of selling out those in his command to the highest bidder."

"Hmm," Varric said, thoughtfully stroking his chin between his thumb and index finger. "Sounds like a more enjoyable evening than I had planned."

"Is Aveline all right? How could the Guard-Captain jail us for deposing bandits and murderers?" Bethany asked, aghast.

"Because the Guard-Captain is dirtier than a Hanged Man lavatory," Aria replied, looking over a particularly attractive set of armour.

"They have a lavatory in the Hanged Man?" Varric asked, feigning shock. "Well I never…"

Aria chuckled to herself and the fellow running the stand approached her. He seemed none too happy that someone "like her" was looking at his goods. It sparked an intense desire in her to slash his throat, but she quelled the urge.

"Another Fereldan street rat. Are you here to waste my time, or do you actually have coin to spend?" the fellow said, swatting Aria's hand away from the armour.

Aria's tawny gaze shot angry razors at him. "Actually, my coin and I were just leaving," she retorted, turning to walk away.

"Eh," he said, grabbing her arm to stop her, his hoity-toity Orlesian accent grating even more on her nerves. Being Fereldan meant having an innate, powerful dislike of everything Orlais. "I'm just having a bad week. There are few Fereldans of means in Kirkwall. Forgive me?"

Aria considered him for a moment, then turned back to him. "Are you an armourer? A weaponsmith?"

The man smiled. "I'm Hubert, and my stock is varied. What all my wares have in common, however, is quality. Only the best for my distinguished patrons. See for yourself."

He opened the covers on some exhibits within his kiosk, allowing the three of them to look over his wares. Aria thanked him and promised to return later after she had finished a couple jobs. He didn't seem impressed, but she didn't care. She wasn't here to make people like her.