Gamlen was true to his word. Most of the jobs Athenril had the trio of fighters working weren't the cleanest. Ellendrya kept reminding herself that it did get her family into the city, and it was better than killing people for coin that pissed Meeran off. Athenril started them off with easier jobs in the first month, then let them at harder things as the time passed. She didn't have much of a choice really. With one of the worst storms the coast had seen came the Qunari. There was unrest everywhere in the city. Not too long after their arrival, the mages and templars began having issues. The number of mages being smuggled out of the city was at its highest. Not that anyone working for Athenril could complain. Trouble usually meant more work for the smugglers, in turn bringing in more coin. Athenril had Hawke running around more than anyone else. Sometimes it was with Bethany and Aveline, other times with some of her men, and often times by herself.

Athenril held Hawke in high regard. Having another skilled rouge in the group was a relief. Not that her previous men couldn't get the job done, Hawke just did it more efficiently. Athenril knew she could trust the Ferelden with her hardest jobs. Jobs that were becoming more frequent.

It was the middle of the week when Ellendrya received new summons from Athenril. She had just returned from one of her jobs only two days prior. She had been gone for three days, following around some idiot noble who's rich daddy paid Athenril and her men to protect his precious son. Why he didn't ask the Red Iron or some other merc group to take care of it, Hawke had no clue. But she had been given orders, so she followed them. The boy decided to be adventurous and decided to ditch his guards. Even though he was at least twenty or so, he insisted on acting like a stubborn twelve year old, ordering his guards around like he owned them. His running off caused Ellendrya to have to track him down, fighting through all the thugs she had ever heard of in the process.

To say the least, she was lucky Bethany was a healer, lest she be covered head to toe in bruises for the next month.

Grimacing from her still sore muscles, Hawke pulled on her leather armor, tied up her auburn hair, and secured her daggers on her back before heading to the Hanged Man to meet with Athenril.

"Hawke," Athenril greeted the rouge briefly as she joined her at a table in the corner of the tavern.

"What's the job?" Hawke asked, getting right to the point. The two women didn't get on swimmingly, but they respected one another and trusted the other at each other's backs, so it didn't matter.

"A mage looking to get out of the city. Shouldn't be much unlike your other jobs. It's just one man so as long as you lay low you shouldn't have too much trouble," Athenril explained as she passed over the details to Hawke.

Opening the envelope, Hawke read through everything. One mage by the name of Jonathan Aswood. Age 23. Primal mage. No outstanding history before the last month. Had a few arguments with a few of the templars. No surprise there. Other than that, there wasn't much else.

"When are we moving him?" Hawke asked, still looking over the papers.

"Tonight, midnight."

Hawke sighed. Looks like another long night for me, she though wearily. What could she say? She liked her sleep…

"I'll send a few of my men with you. I wouldn't suggest bringing your two friends along. The sewers don't much seem their type," Athenril told her, smirking slightly. She could see Hawke was simply ecstatic.

"Right… I'm on it," Hawke sighed, nodding at the elf before taking her leave.

She returned to Gamlen's to find Bethany reading quietly. Her mother and Gamlen were nowhere to be found.

"Where's mother?" she asked curiously. Bethany looked up from her book.

"Welcome back," Bethany said, standing. "They went to the market to buy dinner for tonight," she then answered.

"Ah, I see."

"Does Athenril have another job for us?" the young mage asked curiously. Ellendrya shook her head.

"Just me it seems. Escorting another mage out of the city. Shouldn't be too difficult. Maker knows we've done it enough times already," she chuckled slightly, shaking her head. Bethany's mood drooped slightly at not being 'invited' on the job. She worried about her older sister when she did jobs on her own.

"Well, with Aveline's new post in the guard, it's not like she would've been able to go anyways. They seem to pay her well enough as it is," Bethany smiled at her sister.

"True." Hawke smiled a bit.

Aveline had become a good friend, despite their differences on their work. Not too long ago, she signed up for the city guard. Hawke thought she fit well there. Her heart for justice was put to use in the guard. Hawke had seen less and less of her friend as of late, but they were both busy. Aveline would write from time to time, letting Hawke and her family know how she was doing. She seemed happier now that she was providing for herself. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful for what the Hawke family did for her. Quite the contrary actually. What made her unhappy was that she felt as though she was a burden to the family. It was quite the opposite really, but she wouldn't have any of it. As soon as the opportunity arose, Aveline thanked the family for the hundredth time and moved herself to the guards' barracks in the Viscounts Keep.

"When are you moving the mage?" Bethany inquired.

"Midnight tonight," Hawke shrugged. "I think I'm going to catch up on some sleep in advance then. If you need anything you know where to find me," she said as she waved past her sister to her small cot in the other room.

Hawke fell asleep quickly.

She awoke some hours later. Walking out, Hawke was just in time for dinner. She chatted easily with her mother who had opened up some to Hawke's relief. She had been steadily improving since they settled into Gamlen's place. Gamlen had been tolerable… barely. He didn't try to hide the fact that he wasn't exactly thrilled to be housing three extra bodies. Hawke manage to keep him quiet with the coin she managed to bring in. Out of the three of them, she had the least amount of patience for the man. She kept quiet though, for her mothers' sake.

"I'll be off then," Ellendrya said to Bethany after her mother and uncle retired.

"Already?" Bethany regarded her sister. Hawke nodded.

"You know I always like to be early," she smiled. "Stop worrying, I can take care of myself," she rested her hand gently on Bethany's shoulder.

"I know…" the mage mumbled.

"Don't wait up for me," Hawke winked as she walked out the door.

Ellendrya made her way to Darktown, letting the torches light her way. She took the lift down, then waited at the designated meeting place for the rest of Athenril's men and the mage.

While she waited, Hawke let her mind wander. She found herself once again pondering the recent events. She still had to find time to go deliver the amulet Flemeth gave her. She would have to talk Athenril into giving her a few days off at some point.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps coming her way. Something didn't feel right. It was too early for anyone else to be arriving…

Slipping into the shadows, Hawke drew her blades quietly, waiting for whoever was approaching to come into sight.

A man in mage robes came around the corner, looking around nervously as he stopped by the spot Ellendrya was previously standing. He turned is head slightly so she could see his face. She relaxed a bit. It was the mage they were supposed to be smuggling out of the city.

Stepping into sight, she approached the man carefully. The Jonathan took notice of her and waved her over.

"Hawke?" He asked her.

"That would be me," she answered carefully. "How do you know who I am?" Normally her 'clients' only regarded her as another bodyguard.

"That doesn't matter," he shook his head hastily. "We have a problem."

"Which is…?" The man paused a moment before letting off a small spark of light from his hand. Only a few moments later, three more mages joined them. They were young. In their late teens at most.

"What is this?" Hawke hissed at the mage. "You were the only one we were supposed to move!"

"I know, but these three caught wind of my plan and insisted I take them along," he put his hands up defensively.

"Then maybe you should've kept your tongue," she spat. There was nothing for it now. Huffing once, she addressed the mage a bit more calmly.

"Given the circumstance, we need to wait for the rest of your guards. We can proceed as planned after that," Hawke instructed.

"We have to go now," the mage replied firmly. Hawke raised an eyebrow at him.

"And why is that?" she asked. The mage hesitated.

"There was another one of us," one of the other mages spoke for him. "She was supposed to come with us, but she got scared at the last second and ran off. We can only assume she went and told the templars to save her own hide," the younger mage sneered.

"Of course…" Hawke grumbled to herself. "So I assume you all want to get out before the templars come running?" They all nodded. Ellendrya could only sigh. Why did these jobs never go as planned?

"Fine. We move now," she commanded. Athenril's guards would just have to use their brains and figure out what transpired.

Hawke led the way down the ladder to the sewers. It everything smelled of decay. It made her eyes sting with the stench. The four mages following her all had the same reaction. Breathing as little as possible, Hawke continued.

They crept along as quietly as they could without stepping in some sort of muck. Hawke led them through the twisting chambers of the sewers, only referencing her map occasionally. She had been down here so many times she had most of it memorized. The tunnels that lead to Hightown and the Gallows were marked off at their entrances with x's. No mage would be too pleased to be accidentally led back to the same place they were trying to escape.

Everyone was alert. The youngest mage, a petit looking girl, jumped at most sounds. She even scared herself by her own shadow a few times. They had been walking for about twenty minutes or so when Hawke spotted the opening to the smuggler's docks. She breathed a sigh of relief; grateful they hadn't run into any trouble on the way here. Unfortunately, she relaxed a moment too son.

Before she knew it, Hawke heard the twang of a bow and an arrow hissing through the air. Said arrow lodged itself solidly in her left shoulder, right below her collarbone. Hissing in pain, she drew one of her daggers with her good arm. The mages all took a ready stance, staffs drawn.

"Looks like the girl was right!" a templar spoke, emerging from behind the wall of the entrance of the sewers. Six more followed him out, swords at the ready. Ellendrya cursed under her breath. She wouldn't have been so worried, but she didn't know how experienced her company was, and she only had one arm.

"So she did go running to the templars then, as we suspected," Jonathan hissed.

"Hand those mages over to us Serah, and you get to walk," the templar offered.

Of course… Hawke thought grimly. That's what they all say…

"I don't think so," she said simply.

"No then? Too bad," the templar hummed. "Such a pretty face to have to go to waste. Men!" he then commanded.

Hawke readied herself mentally. She was the only melee type fighter here, and half of one at that. She braced herself as the templars charged.

Ellendrya kept the templars at bay best she could, but unfortunately with her injured arm, she could only manage one or two at a time. She struggled to against each templar, doing the best she could while her left arm hung limp at her side. All together, the mages seemed to be holding their own. They watched each other's backs, trying to keep up barriers as others attacked. Hawke managed to dispatch one templar, making it easier for her to focus on the other more fully. She parried each thrust and swing, kicking and stabbing when the opportunity arose. She wasn't used to fighting with one hand, and the size of her dagger put her at a disadvantage. She was put on the defensive as the templar continued his unrelenting attack. With every blow she tried to formulate some way to get close enough to pierce the weak spots in his armor, but she wasn't allowed enough time. Fortunately, the mages behind her had finished off their last opponent. It was enough to give the last templar pause. Taking the opportunity, Hawke spun around from her most previous dodge and brought her blade cleanly across the templars throat. The man let out a strangled groan before falling limply to the ground. Hawke came out of her stance wearily, leaning against the wall of the tunnel to support her weight.

"Hawke!" Jonathan called as he rushed over to her, his healing magic ready at his fingertips. Seeing his intent, Hawke waved him off.

"There's no time," she said through clenched teeth, her shoulder throbbing. The arrow was still lodged there, but she knew she would only bleed more if she pulled it out.

"But your shoulder…" he began.

"Go! All this will be for nothing if more templars show up! Go now!" she told him harshly.

The mage hesitated another moment before nodding and following is companions onto the small ship docked in the harbor. Hawke stayed long enough to make sure they got away without trouble, watching the ship till its small light disappeared over the horizon. She sat on the dock, taking a moment to build the determination to make the trip home. She would draw too much attention walking around Kirkwall with an arrow in her shoulder. She unlatched her daggers from her back and retrieved a small roll of gauze from her pack. She placed the small bundle on her lap before examining the arrow in her shoulder. She grabbed the end of it firmly. Taking a deep breath, she counted to three before pulling it out quickly. She let out a grunt, muffled by her clenched jaw. Quickly as was possible, she rapped the gauze around it as tightly as she could and tied it off using her teeth. She then slung her daggers over her right shoulder and made off for Gamlen's house.

She reached her most recent home a few hours before sunrise. Stumbling up the stairs, she made her way as quietly as she could into the house. On the small table in the middle of the room, Bethany had left a bowl with water and a rag for Ellendrya as she always did.

Ellendrya lowered her daggers to the ground as softly as she could and removed her armor, changing into a pair of loose trousers and remaining in the already bloodstained shirt she always wore under her armor. Removing as much fabric out of the way of the wound as was possible, she began cleaning the still bleeding wound. She dabbed away the dried blood carefully, trying not to agitate the wound further. Holding the cloth to the small hole in her shoulder, Ellendrya retrieved her kit from on top of the desk near the door. She pulled out a small needle and some fine wire. She had just finished the process of stitching herself up when Bethany entered the main room. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, it took her a moment to notice the rouge sitting on the floor.

"El!" She exclaimed, surprised. She then realized what her dear sister was doing.

"El, what are you doing? What happened?" She asked worriedly, rushing to her sister's side.

"Just a scratch," Ellendrya insisted, though she knew it was anything but.

"Why didn't you wake me? I could've healed you in no time," the mage frowned, inspecting the now angry jagged red line on her sisters' shoulder.

"Would you try to be a bit more quiet? I'd rather not have mother wake up only to fuss over me."

Bethany gave her sister a stern look.

"What?" Ellendrya asked innocently.

"You know what," Bethany only rolled her eyes. "What happened? I thought it was supposed to be an easy job?"

"Idiot mage decided to bring his little friends with him, only to have one of them run off and tell the templars in the process. We got through the sewers just fine but they were waiting for us at the docks. Damn archer caught me square in the shoulder," Ellendrya explained.

"What about Athenril's guards? Did they do nothing?"

"We had to go without them. Not that it would've mattered anyways but the four of them decided they needed to try and get to the ship before their little friend told the templars. They showed up not too long after I did and we took off as soon as possible," she shrugged. "I'm just hoping they actually tried to figure out what happened and told Athenril."

"If they didn't, Athenril won't be particularly happy with you," Bethany winced. They both knew what happened when things didn't go as Athenril expected them to.

"I know… I'll talk to her right after I wash up though. There's no use in waiting," Hawke said. Bethany only nodded, knowing it was useless to try and convince the rouge to rest first.

Bethany went to work on cleaning as much mud and… other substances out of Hawke's armor as she could. Hawke would never walk around the city in normal clothes. It was too risky. Ellendrya took the rag and scrubbed herself best she could. They clearly didn't have servants so if they wanted a bath, they would have to get it themselves, and she just didn't have time. She replaced her dirty shirt with another sleeveless one Bethany had set out for her. Bethany insisted that Hawke at least let her put some healing ointment on her wound before rapping it up tightly and helping her sister re-don her armor. It was dawn when Hawke was ready to set out again.

She reached the tavern uneventfully, taking the table she always met Athenril at, and waited for the small elf to arrive.

"Can I get'cha anythin' love?" Nora, the barmaid asked her.

"Just water. Please," Hawke answered briefly, giving the woman a small smile.

"Comin' right up."

Hawke sipped her water gingerly, wanting nothing more than to just put her head on the table and sleep. Unfortunately, that would have to wait.

"Well, don't you look like shit," Athenril said, taking a seat.

"That tends to happen walking through the sewers in the middle of the night," Hawke retorted dryly.

"What happened there?" Athenril asked, gesturing at the bit of bandage peaking out from under the leather armor.

"Arrow, nothing bad," Hawke shrugged.

"Right… So care to tell me why my men were left standing for a few hours at the meeting point?" Athenril wasn't exactly angry, but it was clear she wasn't particularly happy either.

"Ser Aswood decided it would be fun to bring along his mage friends. There were three of them, younger than he. Come to find out, there was a fourth, but she bailed out, running to the templars," Hawke explained wearily. She was over being mad about it. It was done. "The lovely mages insisted we leave early. They wanted to try to get to the ship and get out before the templars came running. Unfortunately for me," she gestured to her shoulder, "they were waiting for us at the docks. How they found it I don't know, but they did, we fought, we won, the mages got out."

Athenril studied the rouge in front of her before shaking her head. She couldn't really be angry at the rouge. She got the job done in the end, and that's all that mattered. She retrieved a purse from her belt and handed it to Hawke.

"Can't say I'm thrilled you did it on your own, but you got it done. That's all I needed," she said, standing from the table. She paused before walking away. "And Hawke? Do try to be more careful. We'd all be so lost without you," the elf smirked, feigning innocence.

Hawke only glared at her before the elf walked away.

I know its a day late... but Merry Christmas everybody!

Luckily, there's no school as of the moment so I'm able to post more often. We'll see how it goes once school starts again in another week and a half :p

Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all