Act One

Chapter Two

A New Home

They weren't letting anyone into the city. At least none of the Fereldan refugees, not unless you had family in Kirkwall who would take you in. And no amount of persuasion from Paden would get the captain of the City Guard to let them leave the Gallows. He promised he would contact Uncle Gamlen, but until anything came of that they would just have to sit tight.

Waiting in the Gallows was just as bad as their time on ship, only in completely different ways. For one thing, all available rooms were taken, and so they were forced to sleep in the courtyard on the hard stone floor. Not that any of them were able to sleep out of sheer discomfort.

But the most uncomfortable aspect of staying in the Gallows was that it was the Templar headquarters and the place where all the Circle mages in Kirkwall lived. Paden had to be sure she kept a low profile there. It went without saying that she shouldn't do any magic while in the Gallows, but even simple things like engaging in heated arguments with her family members, or disagreeing with a shop keeper could attract attention. If any Templars got wind that she was an apostate she would be hauled off to the nearest cell, never to be seen again. A fact that Carver frequently reminded her.

"Why do I get the feeling you're not really concerned for my wellbeing when you say that?" she commented to him on their second day in the Gallows.

"I am," Carver assured. "I'm just… more concerned about Mother. If you're found out, Paden, mother will be heartbroken. She's already lost one daughter; she doesn't need to lose another."

Paden glanced away, gazing out across the courtyard at a group of Templar trainees having a conversation. "No, you're right," she said softly. She glanced back at her brother. "Don't worry, Carver. I'm not going anywhere."

Carver stood up and brushed off his pants. "So you say. Just you keep that sharp tongue of yours between your teeth. And then maybe I'll believe you." He walked away.

Paden sighed as she watched him leave. She couldn't argue with him because she knew he was right. Sometimes her tongue did get the better of her, especially where mages were concerned, and especially apostates. Being one herself she naturally felt honor-bound to defend them, sometimes at the risk of exposing herself. She had always considered the risk worth it. But they weren't in Ferelden anymore, where even the Templar's opinion of mages was considerably more relaxed than in Kirkwall. For mages this was the lion's den of Thedas. She had to be more careful from now on.

—

Three days in the Gallows came and went like a snail on pavement. Every waking moment was a whole new study in boredom. Carver yawned hugely while Aveline paced, muttering her discontent.

Paden glanced at the gate and noticed a man coming through, glancing about as if looking for someone. Finally his eyes focused on them and recognition dawned on his face.

"Leandra!" he exclaimed. He held out his arms as he walked closer to the elder Hawke. "Damn girl, the years haven't been kind to you."

"Gamlen!" Leandra rushed to her brother. She threw her arms around him and hugged him close.

The Hawke siblings and Aveline stood by watching. Growing up, Paden had always got the impression from her mother that she and Gamlen didn't get along. It must have been utter relief that made Leandra act that way.

Uncle Gamlen was a man of under average height, graying hair tied back into a short ponytail. A few days growth of beard covered a weak chin, and his eyes looked tired and somewhat sunken in a face weathered and aged beyond its years. Paden thought Gamlen looked uncomfortable as he pulled out of Leandra's hug.

"Let me say up front, I wasn't expecting this," he said. "The Blight, your husband…dead. You here like this. I thought you'd be Fereldan for life."

Tears welled in Leandra's eyes and she bowed her head. "Oh, Gamlen, we came too late. My darling Bethany didn't make it. Andraste guide her."

Paden clenched her jaw and forced back sudden emotions that threatened to burst. She could manage not to cry for Bethany every hour if she forced herself to not think about her sister's last moments, and the fact that she was gone forever. But if her mother broke down, Paden didn't know if she would be able to keep it together.

"Oh, Maker, save me," Gamlen breathed. He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Leandra, don't do this to me here. I don't even know if I can help you all get in."

"Well, then can you at least get mother in?" Paden asked.

"No," Leandra said resolutely. "We stay together."

"But, Mother, if he can only get one of us in…"

"Then none of us are getting in," Leandra countered. "We will not be separated."

"Then what do we do?" Paden asked, looking at Gamlen. Had he received their letter? Hadn't he known they were coming? Why didn't he have this figured out already?

Gamlen sighed. "I was hoping to grease some palms, but the Knight-Commander's been cracking down. We're going to need more grease."

"But what about the estate?" Leandra asked. "Surely father left something when he died."

Gamlen shifted his feet and rubbed his arm nervously as he glanced around, refusing to meet their gazes. "Right, about the estate. It's…um…gone. To settle a debt. I've been meaning to write you."

"You sold the estate?" Paden said incredulously. That must have been a pretty huge debt.

Leandra stared at her brother for a moment, eyes wide, jaw slack. It was obvious she was just as shocked as Paden. Then she bowed her head and her shoulders sagged. "Then there's no hope," she breathed.

Gamlen hurried to reassure them. "Not quite. I know some people who might help, if… you're not too delicate about the company you keep.

Paden arched an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

Gamlen seemed pleased no accusations were forthcoming. "I talked to my contacts and I found some people who may be willing to pay your way into the city." He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "The catch is, you and your brother will have to work off the debt… for a year."

"A year?" Leandra exclaimed.

"It's the best I could do," Gamlen insisted. "Trust me when I say a bunch of refugees won't get a better option anywhere else."

Paden narrowed her eyes at Gamlen. "So, you're selling us into indentured servitude? That's your idea?" She was starting to think staying and fighting it out in Ferelden sounded nicer. But no, not if they lost even more to the Darkspawn.

"Think of it as having a job waiting for you in your new home," Gamlen said, attempting to look on the bright side.

"Oh yes, that makes it sound so much better," Paden said sarcastically.

"I guess it's only a year, though, right?" Carver said, glancing at her.

Paden sighed and glanced around the Gallows. Was this really the only way they would be able to get out of this prison? "Well, couldn't we go somewhere else? Do we have to stay in Kirkwall?"

Gamlen shrugged. "I suppose you could try one of the other villages in the Marches. But Kirkwall isn't the only city being swamped with refugees. The smaller villages are probably out of the question by now.

Leandra shook her head stubbornly. "No. This is where we have roots. This is where we'll live."

"At least consider my offer," Gamlen said to Paden. "I managed to convince my contacts to come to the Gallows to meet you personally. Either one of them can help you. All you need to do is find them in the courtyard and convince them you're worth the trouble. If you still don't like it, then you are of course free to go somewhere else. But this is the best I can do for you here."

Paden sighed softly and glanced at her brother. "What do you think about this, Carver?"

Carver shrugged. "What can I say? Better here than nowhere."

A cold knot was beginning to form in Paden's stomach. She didn't like this one bit. But if it truly was their only option, then they should at least investigate it further. "Then let's find them," she said, "And see what they have to say."

"Oh, Gamlen, I don't know about this," Leandra said, clearly nervous.

"It's a lot of coin, Leandra. Don't go expecting our name to carry the kind of weight it used to."

"I still don't understand, Gamlen," Leandra said. "I can't believe you sold the estate. How could you?

"It doesn't matter right now," Gamlen said defensively. "What's done is done, it's in the past. This is what I have to offer you right now. It will be all right, you'll see. I have a nice place in Lowtown."

"And what of me?" Aveline interjected. "I will not allow others to incur debts on my behalf."

Gamlen scoffed. "I can't see that it makes a difference. You look like a lady who can pull her own weight."

Leandra frowned at her brother and then looked at Aveline. "Then you'll come with us."

Aveline seemed surprised by the invitation. "I…have no real option. Thank you."

Paden and Carver went to meet with Uncle Gamlen's contacts. The first was a man named Meeran who ran the Red Iron mercenary group. A seedy-looking individual to say the least, with a foul mouth to match. Paden did not like the feeling she got from him, and when he told her that in order to prove her worth to him she would have to assassinate a nobleman who had crossed the Red Iron, Paden knew she couldn't work for him. She had killed before, but only in defense of herself or others. She was not a murderer, and definitely not an assassin.

She politely told Meeran to shove off, and then went to see if the other contact was any more decent. She wondered how in Thedas Gamlen even knew these people.

Athenril was an elf who ran a small smuggling organization. The task to prove their worth to her was as simple as collecting a small monetary debt owed to Athenril by a business parter, which didn't prove to be too difficult. The sharp tongue that Carver had warned Paden about the day before came in quite handy now, and the merchant handed over everything that was owed, no force applied.

Athenril was quite impressed, and readily agreed to pay the bribe to get them into the city. The bribe that would make them virtually slaves for the next year.

—

Gamlen led them all from the Gallows to his house in Lowtown, which was around the side of the horbor, quite a walk from the docks. All the way there Hightown rose above them like a jagged mountain peak, displaying in all its towering glory the might of the Tevinter Imperium that built it on the backs of slaves.

Gamlen's apartment was located just outside the alienage in the slums. Not only was it Lowtown, it was nearly as low as you could go in Lowtown. Paden took it all in with a set jaw and a stony expression. They were going to live here? Mother's family, the Amells, had been one of the wealthiest and most respected families in Kirkwall. Last they had heard that was still true. Somehow Gamlen had wasted it all away, and that made Paden angry.

They walked into the three room hovel and stood there staring for a moment. The bare, rough-hewn wood floor and cracked and crumbling plaster walls gave the impression the place was abandoned. Only Gamlen's sparse sticks of furniture and a few hot coals in the hearth were to convince the casual observer that anyone actually lived there. Cobwebs hung from the rafters in thick curtains, having never been swept away since the house had been built. Clearing those away would be one of the first things Paden would do. She didn't mind spiders so much, but hated their webs. She could pick a spider up with her bare hands without reservation, but if she got a web on her it gave her the creeps.

"So, this is your 'nice place'?" Carver asked sarcastically, quoting what Gamlen had told them in the Gallows.

"It's got a roof and four walls," Gamlen defended. "It's not the nicest place in town, but it's certainly not the worst. I would be grateful if I were you, it's certainly better than the Gallows."

"Can't argue there," Carver admitted as he wandered into one of the bedrooms. His voice called out to them. "Looks like we're going to be sharing a bunk bed, Sister."

"We are not," Paden said as she joined him in the bedroom. There were three single beds in the room, all joined one on top of the other.

"I get the top," Carver said as he climbed up the ladder.

Paden turned to face Gamlen as he and Leandra joined them in the room. "You expect us to all sleep on a bunk in the same room?"

"The house is small," Gamlen said. "No room for separate beds, let alone separate rooms. I've got a cot in the other room, at least you have real beds."

Paden sighed, choosing not to argue. After all, what could she do about it? Gamlen had done the best he could on short notice. But the thought of mother sleeping on a bunk with her grown children, none of them ever having their own space, made it difficult to remember to be grateful.

"I guess I'll take the middle one then," she said. "Mother shouldn't have to climb a ladder to get into bed."

"Thank you, dear," Leandra said.

Paden turned to leave the room. "I'm going to go for a walk."

"You're not going to walk on these streets alone, are you?" Leandra asked.

"What other streets should I walk on?" Paden said bitterly. "This is where we live now; best get used to it." She grabbed her staff that she had leaned against the wall in the main room. Her mother and Gamlen followed her out. "Besides," she added, "I'm working for a smuggler now. I expect I'll be put into all kinds of danger."

"Well at least take Carver with you," Leandra urged, worry creasing her brow.

"I can look after myself," Paden said, and left the house, slamming the door behind her.

Leandra whirled on Carver who was just emerging from the bedroom. "Go after her," she said.

"What for? She's right, she can take care of herself."

"Carver, this is a strange city filled with Templars, I don't want her out there alone." She sighed and stared at the closed door. "I can't believe she just left like that. She seems so angry."

"And why not?" Carver said. He glared at Gamlen. "She has every reason to be. Maker knows things could have been a lot better for us here."

"You ungrateful little—"

Carver cut his uncle off. "I'm going out." He headed to the door.

"Are you going after your sister?" Leandra called. "Carver?"

"Yes," he answered, and then closed the door behind him.

—

Paden had wandered into the Lowtown Bazaar, which was the marketplace for that part of the city. Vender's booths lined the streets and the air was filled with the sounds of venders hawking their wares, and the smells of roasting meat and freshly baked bread.

Paden browsed the booths slowly, allowing the bustle and comings and goings around her to calm her nerves. She wasn't angry at Mother, she didn't know why she had lashed out like that. She should have lashed out at Gamlen, he's the one who deserved it, selling the estate and being so irresponsible as he was. He had admitted to them as he walked them to his house that he had spent it on a few investments that turned sour, as well as on gambling, liquor and women. He had wasted it all away on frivolous things, and now it was gone, never to be regained.

Paden paused to browse the items of a weapons dealer, admiring the fine craftsmanship of a couple small daggers. She thought she should probably invest in a dagger or two for added self defense. She was a decently skilled mage, but sometimes a blade just couldn't be beaten, especially in a city where she would likely have to limit her use of magic.

"May I help you?" the dwarven merchant asked her after a moment.

Paden glanced up. "Actually, I was wondering if you ever get any specialty items in?"

"Eh…specialty items?" the merchant asked, raising one eyebrow.

Paden nodded. "Yes. Items that only people with a certain skill set would carry."

The merchant regarded her for a moment before nodding slowly in understanding. "Ah, yes, I believe I do have a few extra items I keep in back," he said, and motioned her around the side of his booth, where he opened a long lock box that laid on a table. Inside were three mage staffs, each one completely unique.

"Is this what you were hoping to see?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Paden said. She gently ran her fingers along the middle staff, which had immediately caught her eye. The shaft was wrapped with red rope-work, set off beautifully by the black stained wood. The top of the staff was adorned with a head fashioned to look like that of a stylized dragon. The end of the staff sported a long, thin blade that looked somewhat like a stretched axe head. Paden had never seen a mage staff with a blade on it before. The idea intrigued her.

"You know, you worry Mother," Carver's voice said from behind her.

She didn't turned around as she continued studying the staffs. "Did she send you out after me?"

"Yes. I don't know why you're taking all this out on her. It's not her fault we're here."

"Isn't it?" Paden asked. She turned to face her brother with her sharp green eyes. "She's the one who brought us here in the first place. Or don't you recall my objection when she brought it up back in Lothering?"

"Of course you didn't want to come here," Carver said. "Neither did Bethany. But where else would we have gone really? And anyway, Mother didn't know that Gamlen was a weasel. It's not her fault."

Paden sighed, and after a moment she nodded. "I know. I'm just angry. Angry at Gamlen though, not Mother."

"Maker knows we have every right to be angry at him," Carver agreed.

"So she really sent you after me?"

Carver laughed without humor. "Of course, you think I'd come looking for you on my own?"

"So you don't share mother's concern about me on these hostile streets all alone?"

"Of course not. You fought darkspawn all the way here. You killed an ogre. I'm more afraid for anyone who crosses you."

Paden smiled. It wasn't often that her brother paid her a compliment, so it meant a lot to hear him say that.

"Anyway," Carver said, clearing his throat. "They got any good swords here?"

"I wasn't really looking at the swords," Paden admitted as she glanced back at the case with the mage staffs.

Carver moved to the table where the swords and knives were arranged, leaving Paden with her thoughts. She casually glanced at the price tag on the red and black staff and winced. Three sovereigns. That seemed like a fortune. She'd be lucky to afford ten silver right now.

She sighed longly and then turned away from the staff, joining her brother at the sword table. Some day…