Chapter FOUR

Aria ignored the taunts both Bethany and Varric launched at her as soon as they exited the clinic.

"Coming on to the apostate already? My my, Hawke. You work fast," Varric chuckled as they ascended the steps from Darktown to Lowtown.

"It's poetic," Bethany said. "I've never seen her take a shine to anyone. At least not in Kirkwall."

"Oh really?" Varric asked, his interest piqued. He was a master storyteller, and this sounded like the beginning of a really juicy tale. "Maybe she just hadn't met anyone of enough…substance yet. Or maybe it's the whole abomination thing. Women are just drawn to the whole impossible love idea."

"There was this templar in training back in Lothering—" Bethany started, but was cut off.

"That's enough, you two," Aria barked. "Aveline's just up there. Weapons at the ready. The night is far from over," Aria said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Is she always this cross?" Varric asked of Bethany.

"Only when she hasn't slept ten hours in the day," Bethany replied, ignoring the scathing glare Aria threw her way.

Aveline waved to them as they came into view. They jogged up to her and followed her through the alleys. It was a surprisingly quiet night in Lowtown—and that was never a good thing. As they walked, Varric struck up a conversation with Aveline.

"So what do you do, Aveline?" Varric asked as they searched a particularly dark alley. It was empty.

"You know I'm a guard, why are you asking?" Aveline shot back, not too keen on conversing at the moment.

"I mean in your off-duty hours. For fun. You've heard of it, I hope?" Varric glibly pressed, raising his crossbow and staring through the sight for a second.

"These are my off-duty hours," Aveline clipped, her expression puzzled.

Varric shuddered, lowering Bianca and saying, "And the trend of you scaring the piss out of me continues."

"Varric, do you do anything?" Aveline countered, not at all pleased with his assessment of her.

"Am I the next stop in your career evaluations? Joy of joys," Varric replied, nonplussed.

Aveline glared at him as they walked the next alley. "You watch and you talk. Is that it?"

"You are dismissing hallmarks of both the utterly ineffectual and the incredibly dangerous," Varric cryptically replied.

"I don't know what you mean," Aveline said, stopping to look behind a bunch of crates and finding only a couple of large rats. They continued on.

"It means coins flow when I talk and when I shut up. Like if you got paid to guard or unguard," he said, his voice low and mocking.

"That makes no sense," Aveline hotly retorted.

"Good," Varric said and they fell silent.

After a few more minutes of searching, they heard the sounds of battle. Aria raced ahead of them, the quickest of the group. Ahead, a guardsman stood amidst a large band of Coterie assassins. Aria employed her usual miasmic flask entrance to battle, doing as much damage as she could while she used the element of surprise. Aveline, Varric, and Bethany launched themselves into the battle as quickly as they could.

The battle was short, thankfully. Aria's strength was waning quickly. She couldn't take much more of this tonight. Aveline ran over to where Donnic had fallen in his exhaustion. She cradled him to her like a small child, checking him over for wounds. He had only sustained a concussion and a few nicks and bruises, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Aveline helped him to his feet, steadying him as he wobbled for a moment.

"Who… Ave… Aveline?" he groggily asked, his vision clearing. "You're a beautiful sight," he huskily stated, his eyes locked on hers.

"Guardsman?" Aveline asked, playfully reproachful but blushing and looking like a bashful school girl.

"I mean, I was on patrol, and they came out of nowhere. I took a few down but there were too many at once. The captain said this route was supposed to be quiet," Donnic clarified, blush also tingeing his cheeks.

Aria ignored them for the time being, letting Aveline enjoy her lovey-dovey moment. Aveline very much enjoyed playing the saviour. Who was Aria to intervene? Aria located the satchel while they talked, opening it up and reading the contents.

"The seal of the Viscount. Office details, city accounts," Bethany relayed over Aria's shoulder.

"Valuable to a guild of thieves," Aria nonchalantly stated, continuing rifling through the satchel's contents and handing them to Bethany to read.

Aveline and Donnic stumbled over, leaning on each other for support.

"A sacrificial delivery with one of our own," Aveline snarled. "Captain Jeven will answer," she vowed.

Aria stood, handing the satchel to Donnic, who now stood of his own accord. "Selling out his own… Forget Guard-Captain. This man needs to be in government."

Aveline rolled her eyes. "Not now, Hawke. Jeven needs to see how justice works. This goes to the office of the Viscount. This will be known," she venomously stated, her eyes darting to Donnic, then back to the satchel. "The captain likes his thieves so much—let's see if they welcome him in prison."

Aria groaned. "Yes, yes. Due process and whatnot. Are we done here?"

Aveline gave her a sulfurous glare before looking tenderly back at Donnic. "Yes, we're done. I'll let you know when the investigation is complete. You'll want to be there when justice is rendered," she distractedly replied, walking away with Donnic, allowing him to lean on her for support as they ascended the steps.

The fingers of dawn grasped at the cloak of night, peeling it back and revealing the first glow of daybreak on the horizon. Aria and Bethany accompanied Varric to the Hanged Man. Bethany declined Varric's offer of a pint, but Aria was game. Bethany curled up on Varric's bed while the other two talked over their ale.

"So, I've been dying to know," Varric said once they'd sat down with their alcoholic beverages in his room. "What was going through your head when you fought that ogre?"

Aria laughed. "For the first few seconds: 'Maker! What do they feed those things?!' But after that? I saw red, honestly. It killed Carver. I wasn't going to let it live."

At this, Varric also laughed. "I don't know anyone else that's even seen one! You're lucky just to be standing here. Somehow, Hawke, I imagine things won't be dull with you around. Not that I expect the Deep Roads to be boring, mind you. Constant threat of doom does tend to keep you awake."

"A lot of things can keep you awake though. I wouldn't reach for the doom first," Aria said, putting her tankard to her lips and taking a very long, hearty draught.

Varric did the same before replying. "Sure, I could have a cup of tea in the morning, but I hear it's bad for you. I've spent my whole life in Kirkwall. Dangerous enough, most days. But, it doesn't compare to the Deep Roads. So, this will be…let's just call it an 'adventure', I guess," he said.

Aria toasted him, clinking the rim of her tankard against his. "Great! Now we're adventurers!"

Varric chuckled and they were both silent for a moment, Aria contemplating the flames in the hearth. She tore her gaze from them, finishing her tankard before speaking again.

"What about you, Varric? You know my story, for the most part. How does yours read?"

He chuckled, also finishing his pint. "You're in luck. I am always willing to talk about myself to beautiful women," he said, winking at her suggestively. She laughed as he continued. "My family came from Orzammar—noble House Tethras—until my father got caught fixing Provings. He and our whole House got exiled."

Provings were the dwarves' way of settling feuds between clans and entertaining themselves. It was a gladiatorial event in which the best fighters from each respective House settled whatever dispute had been raised. But, most of the time, it was simply fighters kicking the crap out of each other and winning bragging rights until such time as someone else did it to them.

"That's…awful," Aria said, leaning forward in her seat, intrigued by his story.

"No huge loss," Varric said, smiling. "I was born up here. Sunshine suits me just fine."

At the mention of sunshine, Aria looked out the window and groaned. "Speaking of sunshine, it's rising and we've all yet to see our beds." She went over to Bethany, who was sound asleep, and gently shook her.

They said their farewells for the time being and walked home, both dragging their feet and quite weary. They trudged up the steps to Gamlen's, both silent in their exhaustion. Aria swung open the door and groaned upon the sight there.

"Out all night," Gamlen groused as they entered, hiccupping and swaying from his perch beside the small, dirty hearth. "One might be led to believe you're up to no good."

"We're not you, Uncle," Aria retorted, looking at the desk and noticing a few letters piled there addressed to her.

Bethany went straight into the bedroom without casting their slippery uncle a single glance. She hated the man and it was more than well-deserved.

"I'm not your personal post man," Gamlen continued as Aria went through the letters.

They were from Athenril—offers of work that could produce quite a decent profit. She hated dealing with the underground anymore, but work was work and they needed the money if they were going to get out of this filthy hovel. Aria didn't know how much more she could take before she just outright dispatched of the disgustingly snivelly wretch that served as her uncle.

"You get more damned mail than I do, and I actually live here," he burped as she strode past him, leaning back in his chair and glaring at her.

"Shut up," she said, kicking the chair so that it fell backward.

He landed with a satisfying "thud". She hardly paused in doing so and said nothing as she walked into the bed room, smiling wickedly to herself at the litany of putrid insults he hurled her way. She slammed the door in his face and threw herself onto the top bunk.

"Thank you," Bethany murmured sleepily from beneath her.

"For?" Aria asked, yawning.

"Everything. Keeping me from the templars. Kicking that filthy excuse for a human. Working so hard."

"You're my sister. I would do nothing less."

"And I for you."

Aria turned on her side, drawing the thin, scratchy blankets over her shoulders. She winced as her armour shifted. She didn't have the energy to remove it. With a heavy sigh, she looked up at the beams again, scarcely visible in the low light of the dawn.

Soft, impassioned, dark eyes swam before her in a handsome, but tortured visage. A halo of dark gold hair adorned the face. Ambition drove the noble purpose. Anders. He was worth pining for. She knew it was perilous to allow herself to have feelings for such a dangerous man. Well, the man himself wasn't really the danger—his situation was. An active apostate and revolutionary, partial abomination, hunted. Well, how could a woman not want that?

"Aria?" Bethany asked after a few moments had passed.

"Hmm?" Aria sleepily replied.

"Anders—he seems taken with you."

Aria chuckled softly. Her sister always had a knack for knowing what was on her mind. "You think so? We only just met him."

"He's a good man, like Lirene said. But guard your heart. I have this dreadful feeling that you're going to need it."

Aria sighed. "Let's not jump to the nuptials just yet, shall we?"

Bethany laughed quietly. "At any rate, I'm glad you found someone who interests you. Being alone… In this city of unfamiliarity and hostility… I'm just glad you have people to watch your back."

"Yours too," Aria said, yawning.

"It will all work out. You'll see," Bethany sleepily said.

Aria waited a few moments until the deep breathing beneath her yielded a single soft snore. She smiled sadly to herself. "I hope you're right, sister. I really do."