"This...is it?" Mother's voice wasn't even tinged with disappointment, it was more of an...emptiness.
Bethany for one was disappointed – she had dared to dream of a life of luxury, or at least one where she was safe from Templars...only to get this – but taking a deep breath through the nose helped, making her look at things objectively. Sure, Gamlen's place was a sty, but that was nothing that she and mother couldn't spiff up in time, it was also bigger than their old place, meaning Aveline would fit in until she could get her own place.
The woman in question was walking up to the fireplace of the main room, frowning into it's dark hole, and Bethany guessed the reason wasn't the piles of untended ashes within.
Getting into Kirkwall with Athenril's help had been surprisingly easy, a few guards paid off and the family had been led into the city. The lack of discipline with the city's protectors had been enough to make Aveline bristle, but the elf she was supposed to work for hadn't made things any easier, she had expressed her confidence in that they would be a sound investment and glee over their future 'business'...and Aveline was apparently one who verbalised her dislike of such practices, as well as the way the elf had teased her about mentioned protest...
Not to mention that Aveline seemed to be a bit of a nationalist, she cared for Ferelden, in particular her people, Fereldians who in Kirkwall found themselves in Lowtown if they were lucky. The fact that Athenril had unabashedly claimed this as a great opportunity to expand by hiring on these desperate hands to a life of crime had not gone well with Aveline, something Athenril had after only a few minutes found not a little annoying...
Of course Garrett had gone between the two and calmed things down before it had gotten ugly, but Bethany had a feeling that would not be the last they saw of the two women's mutual dislike of one another.
Bethany herself was less upset about their situation, as was Carver, the Hawkes' had broken a few laws in their nomadic lifestyle before, Bethany being with them was a crime after all. Not that they had ever gone out of their way to break the law as seriously as someone that was a professional smuggler did...but by now the two siblings had learnt the lesson of doing what it took to survive fairly well, and weren't about to protest about their new job.
Not that Bethany was entirely happy to work for an elf...
She wasn't like most, she didn't look down on elves, their family had lived in the same gutters as most Alienage elves had at a few points, as such she knew mostly sympathy for them. She could consider them as equals, and in contrast to most she had no problem working with them, but to work for one? It wasn't so much the race thing as it was how it signified just how low the family had sunk...she didn't like it.
Things had moved so fast though...there was little time to consider all they had experienced and where they stood, Athenril wanted to test her new workers this very night, and something with the grin she had sported had told Bethany it would be a painful ordeal.
"Living room, room enough to put in a few extra beds, a storage area for food and tools..." Gamlen walked forth, gesturing at the door at the other end of the room, then to the one to his right. "A second room...errr...lots of junk there at the moment, but we can clear it out and get several people to sleep there, no problem." He offered a nervous smile as he turned to the rest of the family. "See? No problem."
Bethany caught herself scowling at him and smoothed her features with an effort of will. She was not like Garrett, she could not simply shrug her shoulders and accept the man, even care for him, simply, because of an accident of birth. Athenril had laughed at them calling her Gamlen's 'contact' and smirked as she had informed them that part of the deal was that their free work meant his debt with her was paid...clearly he hadn't helped them out of the kindness of his heart, and in fact had exploited them to save his life.
Of course Garrett could not dislike a member of his family, and had simply scowled at the elf for revealing the actions of his uncle, yet remained polite, much to her obvious amusement.
The man in question was now slowly moving closer to his uncle, nodding as he looked around himself. "Enough space, all the necessary facilities...this'll do. How are the prices in the market?"
"Good enough...the bread is worse but cheaper if you go to it late." Gamlen shrugged. "Firewood and most other food is cheaper if you buy it outside the gates, it's a bit of a walk, but it's worth it."
"As is buying a woodsman's axe." Garrett muttered, hand drifting down to his practically empty coin purse. "And the Templars? How much presence do they-"
"This...this is it?" Leandra repeated, interrupting her son as she stared around herself in disbelief.
Bethany didn't think her mother really cared so much about the money, she had given it all up for their father after all, it was something else...
A moment of silence...and then Leandra confirmed Bethany's suspicion. "Gamlen...what happened? What happened to our home?"
Home...
Mother had never really spoken much of how it was back in Kirkwall, but whenever she had she had always inadvertently called it home...and the tone had been different than when she spoke of whatever place they had as home back in Ferelden, with more warmth.
We're home...
The thought made Bethany smile pensively, whatever happened, if the Templars caught her or not, if they remained in Lowtown or got back their inheritance...they were home, there would be no more running...
There was peace in that knowledge.
"I already told you!" The man snarled defensively. "With mother and father gone, with me having to take care of them during their last months, and us without the De Launcet marriage, we not only lost a big contract but I was suddenly alone because somebody had to run away with her little apostate."
Mother took a hesitant step backwards, looking away in guilt, voice a low murmur. "I...yes...but it was so much...how could it all just...disappear?"
Now it was Gamlen's turn to look away, the old man sighing as something sad flashed underneath his tired eyes. "I admit I'm not the...best when it comes to money...and with me suddenly alone, no longer the dull child living in the shadow of your brilliance...well..." Another sigh and he looked away in shame, voice a bitter whisper. "I figured it would work itself out...I...never wanted it to go this far."
Silence.
Awkward silence.
Then Carver moved, the man not saying a word as he walked past his mother, then his uncle, hand giving the later a supportive clap on the shoulder.
Sighing, Bethany grabbed the dusty and all too unworn broom that had been thrown into a corner, set on at least getting some cleaning done before she had to go and initiate herself into a life of crime.
Oh what a wonderful family we are...
8
8
8
Bethany felt her heart thunder in her chest, the excitement she always felt ashamed of running in her veins in anticipation of their heist as she crouched low behind a pile of garbage.
Has it really been four months already?
It felt like only yesterday since the family had arrived in Kirkwall and started to work off their debt to Athenril and her band of smugglers, but since then they had been kept busy by the swiftly expanding criminal gang.
Athenril's Footpads, as they liked to call themselves, had indeed grown in ability and size, this mostly thanks to the influx of Fereldian refugees. While the dominating Coterie gang felt too good to hire them, Athenril had eagerly hired on these people in droves, and what these Fereldian peasants and deserters lacked in skill they more than made up with a daring fuelled by desperation and the fact that losses were easy to replace.
Can't believe I thought this would be safer then mercenary work... Glancing to her right, she found Carver's teeth flash in a grin within the midnight darkness, the cracked Ferelden armour he had inherited from Garrett making him a black spot under the shadow of the house they crouched next to. In contrast to her, he was not ashamed to feel excited about their work, in fact he welcomed their more challenging jobs, which was good considering how they had grown in frequency as of late...
Garrett had advised against it again and again...but Athenril would not take his advice when it came to her idea of ousting the Coterie as the major crime-syndicate in Kirkwall. To be fair they had managed so far, they had lost a few men, but no one that couldn't be replaced. And the fact that Garrett had managed to map out the Kirkwall guards – as he called it – 'obvious' patrol schedule had given them a decisive advantage since they could hit the Coterie during the day and then evade reprisal by hiding in the crowd where the guards were.
In fact, Garrett's planning and cunning had been a large part of what had ensured the Footpads' light losses. Not only had it helped in hitting the Coterie where they least expected it, but it had also done so with little violence and even respectfully, doing as much as possible to not antagonize the still slumbering monster of an organisation. Despite her making fun of his caution, there was little in the way of amusement in Athenril's voice nowadays when she called him her best man, which had helped in securing the family the odd bonus or two.
As such Bethany had high hopes that stealing from the Coterie storage area ahead would go smoothly, yet she still cast a glance at their helping hands, wondering if any of them would be caught or hurt, and if so, if she would actually miss them.
The two just behind her and Carver were veterans from Kirkwall. One was a bony little man whose long nose seemed to be nothing but gristle and little else, the weasel-like grin he shot her making her shudder. The other had the eyes of a dullard, but his massively broad shoulders spoke of a man capable in the ways of violence, as if the iron mallet stained with blood in his hands wasn't enough of a sign.
Bethany knew they were two of Athenril's most trusted men, but little else, Garrett and Carver had a tendency to protect her from the details of the family's dealings with Athenril, and in this particular matter, Bethany didn't much mind.
The other three at the back were more nervous-looking, and more deserving of sympathy. A boy no older than sixteen, seemingly ready to faint, an old man with a comforting arm over the boy's shoulder, and a woman that was constantly scowling, as if daring anyone to question her right to be there. All three Fereldians, new to the organisation, unknowing of just what a pittance their share would be, yet greatly depending on it to survive.
At least one of them would probably be dead by the end of the month, another in prison.
I'm glad Aveline wasn't around when this started...
The woman had actually found the most curious way out of her debt with Athenril, a way she hadn't even really planned. Her conflicts with Athenril had only increased in frequency and intensity with time. Her verbal and vehement protests, even though she performed her duty, against every crime they did had constantly gotten on Athenril's nerves, until the very point that violence had been in the air back in their hideout.
Garrett, ever the diplomat, had tried to calm things down, knowing conflict within their extended 'family' would be dangerous. He had actually managed to get Aveline to apologise for her harsh words. That, of course, hadn't been enough, Athenril had been angry, seeing in Aveline a threat to the organisation as a whole, which Garrett had played on according to what he'd later told Bethany; he had pointed out that the moment Aveline was released from her debt, she would become a real threat to the organisation, and as such it would be better to release her from it before she learnt too much.
He had been right. The moment Aveline was free she had sought and gained entrance to the guard. Days later some of the, in preparation of that largely emptied, warehouses the Footpads had were raided by the guard.
Still not sure that's the entire story...
Looking further back, Bethany caught sight of her older sibling catching up with them, his gaze steadily fixed on the building on the other side of the street. A month ago he had been rewarded by Athenril for his service with a suit of a armour from one of their jobs, which had freed his old armour for Carver to use, after a few modifications to fit him, of course. It was a suit of plate that covered his chest, arms and calves, all separated by grey cloth, protecting the vital parts, yet easy to move in and ensuring no piece rattled against the other as they snuck around. Athenril had joked about needing to protect her best investment, but Bethany wondered...
Athenril had been so angry...
Bethany remembered it vividly, it was not often the elf shouted, nor threatened people, but in this instance she had found it in her. Her anger with Aveline had even moved over to the Hawkes, accusing them of bringing that 'viper' into her home, of how she should just send them away and tell the guards of their little apostate family member...
She threatened the family...
Bethany felt sick at the memory, eyes staring at the gift Garrett wore, remembering how he had dragged her aside to talk sense into her, of how long it had taken...and how content she had seemed after the two came back...she hadn't even asked for anything in return for letting them off the hook...
He didn't...did he...? Bethany's gaze moved up to Garrett's brown eyes, but found no answers in his steady gaze. I know he'd do anything to protect me and the family but...Maker, please don't tell me he was with that 'woman' for my sake...
The thought made her sick to the stomach.
Garrett didn't seem to notice, his eyes on the door at the other side of the narrow street, the place lay on the outskirts of the docks, in one of the filthiest areas...and as such was poorly lit and nearly never patrolled by the guards. Which made it perfect for the Coterie for some long-term storage...and for the Footpads to raid when the majority of the Coterie guards were off celebrating a successful raid on a merchant caravan.
"The Coterie men are good and drunk in the Hanged man. What's the status here?" The man rumbled, hand moving down to check the Ferelden sword at his side.
"Only seen two guards, they went out to smoke a while ago, but we figured we'd wait for you to strike." The weasel-like Kirkwaller replied, making Carver frown at him, clearly the one wishing to answer.
"Only two? Okay, we take them swiftly and without trouble, and without killing them." Garrett's words made the two Kirkwallers' roll their eyes, but they nodded in agreement. After all, as Garrett had argued, if they got captured while on a job against the Coterie where there were some you had spared, could well save your life. "Bethany, Carver, you remember the positions?" The two siblings nodded, Bethany with a reluctant sigh.
She knew she was pretty, but the fact that she had to play bait was...annoying, not to mention that she then would be left to guard the door as her brothers continued to protect her against the sights of what she knew they had to do to survive. I'm a grown woman, dammit, I don't need them to protect me from reality any more...
She didn't say it however, instead she rose and moved towards the door, walking across the moonlit street while her brother adopted an innocent look on his face as he walked beside her. Behind them the rest of the men crawled forward, moving like shadows as they moved to both flanks of the siblings and slid forth to hug the wall on each side of the door and their objective.
Stopping in front of the door Bethany took a deep breath, curbing the nervousness and fighting the irritation with Carver giving her a supportive pat on the back. Then she raised her hand, gently tapping the door.
There was a screech of a chair being pushed back.
Then, a few moments later, a slot was pushed open in the door, revealing the face of a grizzled man with white stubble and black smudge over his nose, his voice the deep one of a large man. "Yeah what do you-" He blinked at finding her dazzling smile, wide gaze moving over her cheeks and lips...Bethany held back her shudder as he spoke once more. "Well hello...what can I do for you?"
"Hi, me and my friend here got a little lost and it's frightfully cold..." Bethany forced her voice to stay sweet, something she had gotten an annoying amount of practice in as of late, Carver smiled encouragingly, but it was hardly noticed, the man behind the door didn't even glance at him as he stared at her face. "...so we wondered if we could just come in for a while and..." She forced herself to hold her tongue for but a moment. "...warm ourselves."
The door clicked open before the man had even begun to speak. "Sure, sure, come in!" The man opened the door with a grin. "You're welcome to stay-"
The moment the door opened Carver's smile disappeared and turned into a snarl as his head moved back...and then slammed forth into the other man's face, sending him tumbling onto his back with a cry of pain.
Then there was a rush and crashing as all but Bethany poured into the room, silencing someone mid-shout with the crack of armoured knuckles hitting a jaw, Garrett's voice nearly lost in the chaos. "Bethany, close the door and keep a look out!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Grumbling, Bethany closed the door, grimacing as some blood stuck to it smudged over her hand. For my magic being seen as useful I sure don't seem to get to use it... Pouting, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her back into the wall, dutifully glancing out towards the main street.
She knew it was silly, that Garrett was just making sure no Templar would come look for them, that she was safe, like always. Yet however despicable their work was she still felt as if she wanted to do some of it, to be useful...was that so strange? Shouldn't use my magic, but it...dammit, it's all I know, what they want me to dedicate myself to, yet won't allow me to practice...it's so...frustrating!
She almost missed their flight from the Darkspawn. Not the battling or the fear, but because for that one moment she was useful, she was free, even encouraged to use what she had spent her life learning to contain...now that she was no longer allowed it...the world felt more empty. It was as if she was a bird, allowed a moment to spread its wings and fly...only to be caged once more.
At least the mages in the Circle gets to cast their spells in a contained environment. Sighing, Bethany's gaze moved over to the distant keep wherein the Templars and their mages lived. She no longer felt fear just by looking at it. Sure, the Templars were scary, she remembered her father's stories well...but the idea of being around fellow mages...it filled her with a strange longing.
"Silly girl..." She shook her head at her own foolishness, glaring down at the ground as she scolded herself for such a bizarre feeling. How can you long for captivity? Foolish girl...
"Silly girl, indeed." Someone agreed, making Bethany jump, eyes wide as she stared at the space across the street in horror.
A moment ago it had been empty, now men and women appeared from it, like shadows taking solid form they materialized, wearing tightly fitting grey leather, knives and axes seemingly appearing out of thin air. "The Coterie..." Bethany tried to take a step back, but found the wall stopping her.
"Correction, the best of the Coterie." A man stepped out of the shadows, broadsword in hand glittering with what looked like enchantments, a man who had been given such a costly weapon in such a ruthless organisation was a man to be feared. The grey eyes within the cowl he wore were hard. "We're here to make an example out of you, the Coterie doesn't like being taken for fools."
"G-get back!" Bethany raised her hands, flames sparkling over her palms as she automatically drew on the lingering warmth in the ground, a comforting warmth, a warmth speaking of power...
To her surprise, the man's eyes simply twinkled in amusement. "You're not the only mage here." A moment later another man stepped forth, his short stature covered in black robes as he raised pale hands...and Bethany felt the pull of strange magics at work as something began to shimmer in front of the Coterie men. "So perhaps you should just come quietly and we won't have to-"
"She won't come at all." The door slammed open and Garrett strode out, eyes narrowing at the other group's leader. "Nor will any of us." Bethany struggled not to sag in relief, though her glance told her the odds hadn't improved all that much. Garrett and Carver looked more than ready to fight, as did the brutish Kirkwaller, the Fereldians were pale as sheets though as they kept as far back as they could, clutching their daggers as if they were for comfort rather than protection. The weasel-like man had already disappeared, having chosen discretion over valour.
"Ah, Athenril's right hand, what a fortunate catch, you'll be valuable to us." The cowled man cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. "But only alive, so drop those weapons, you're outmatched..." He held Garrett's gaze, a smirk in his voice. "...and you know it."
Silence.
Bethany felt cold sweat run down her back as the flames flickering over her hands nervously danced over her fingertips, indecisive where to go as she refused to release them. Her gaze moved to Garrett, his face was seemingly carved in stone as he held the gaze of his opposite number, tension visible in the way he gripped his sword, unwilling to let it go as those at his back nervously glanced at him, sensing the chance for a peaceful end slipping away.
As did the Coterie assassins, the warriors spreading out further along their side of the street, as if unwilling to risk the touch of moonlight between the two forces until they'd been given the word to attack. They looked eager though...
Silence.
Then Garrett broke eye-contact with the Coterie leader, his gaze instead moving to hold Bethany's. "Bethany, fireball..." Her eyes widened even as everyone stiffened at the prospect of battle, though Bethany could do nothing but hold her brother's gaze, the hardness within them telling her he refused her to hesitate for even a moment. "...into the air."
"Huh?" The Coterie leader managed...and then the flames in Bethany's hands grew into an inferno before shooting up into the night, a ball of flame over-shining all the stars above with the intensity of its glow.
Silence.
Then someone in the distance screamed...a scream echoed by another as the fireball, at the end of its range, harmlessly exploded into the air.
Looking back down, Bethany found the Coterie man and Garrett once more locking gaze, but this time the momentum had visibly shifted as the Coterie man's brow furrowed in confusion and worry.
Far off, an alarm went off.
Then a shout. "Guards! Guards! Over here!"
There was a growing trample of iron-shod boots...
Another shout. "Apostates! Where's the Templars! Send for the Templars!"
More boots, thundering against the cobbled stones, the rattle of armour and swords.
Behind Garrett, the others stared at him, hesitant, nervous eyes glancing out towards the street.
Behind the Coterie man, his people were doing the same.
"Templars! Over here! It came over here!" Someone shouted, only to be instantly answered by even more rattling of armour, creating a cacophony as the echoes bouncing along the otherwise empty streets made the running soldiers sound like an entire army. The curse uttered by the Coterie man's mage was lost in the sound of it even as Bethany felt herself tremble in fright.
They're going to find me here, casting spells, they're going to find me and they're going to-
He didn't utter any command, but she could feel Garrett ordering her to calm down...and forced herself to do so as he and his opponent continued their mental duel.
More trampling...
More shouts...
Louder...
Louder...
Cursing, the Coterie man whirled about and snarled something unintelligible at the others...who as one turned around and ran for the street.
The moment they entered it there was a louder shout, not one of alarm, but of authority. "In the name of the Maker, halt!"
The Coterie warriors did the complete opposite.
Turning a sharp left they began to spring away, swords and axes dropping onto the ground or being hurled at their pursuers as they ditched anything that might slow them down in their flight.
The Coterie mage, however, simply fell over, moaning as he clutched a knife thrust into his thigh.
Bethany grimaced at the sight. Stabbing your own ally to get away...despicable people...
"Hold, stay in the shadows and don't move a muscle." Hearing Garrett's calm order, probably told to one of the still worried Fereldian's, Bethany still crouched down to stare at the sight of a full fifty Templars in full armour charging after the Coterie warriors with angry oaths on their lips. If they realised they'd never catch their fleeter targets, they didn't show it as they left the wounded mage in the dirt along with two remaining Templars.
Oh Maker... Bethany stared in horror and sympathy at the sight of one of the Templars casually rolling the mage onto his back with an armoured boot, the voice within her helmet distorted to a booming quality. "He's injured."
"Serves him right." The male Templar responded with a snort, poking the mage in the chest with his greatsword. "You thought you could outrun us, oldie?"
"This isn't a joke." The female reprimanded the other, if the two differed in rank, it didn't show, but on the other hand Bethany had never studied Templar ranks and how to distinguish them, it was a topic she rather avoided... "But it is a factor in his judgement." Huh? The female Templar turned back to the groaning mage, ignoring his weak attempts to pull out the dagger in his leg as she regarded him. "Apostate, how long have you been outside the circle? Without proper supervision?"
"Go...to hell..." The mage groaned, his voice revealing that he indeed was old, probably near sixty. "It hurts...help..."
"Should we..." The male Templar moved to reach for the dagger...only to pull back as the female shot him a glare, an impressive accomplishment given her helmet. "...guess not, sorry, old man."
"How? Long?" The female turned back to the mage and stepped down on the dagger, grinding the blade into the man's thigh and drawing a long scream out of him that echoed across the empty streets of Kirkwall.
"I'm...free..." A mad cackle escaped the old man. "...that's all that matters, to you! Ha...free..." The man seemed to find something amusing in the word...as if it was a joke only he was in on.
Silence.
Then the woman sighed, shaking her head. "You are not helping your case, tell me what I want to know and you may be spared and sent to the circle for rehabilitation, resist and you will be judged here and now."
"Tranquillity? You think I want that!" The old man gasped, spittle striking the woman's boot as he gasped out his defiance. "I spit on you!"
Another sigh escaped the woman, her voice bereft of anger.
Silence.
Then she drew her blade, the tone of her voice formal. "Unidentified mage, you have been judged an apostate, you have been away from the circle from an undefined length of time and shown yourself defiant and disrespectful of the Maker and His appointed servants. Whether corruption has entered your flesh or is just present in your spirit is unimportant, heresy cannot be allowed to thrive. So is the judgement."
The male Templar hesitated...but then looked away. "So is the judgement."
Bethany's eyes widened as she saw the old mage turn his head, eyes staring into the darkness of her hiding place...only for them to widen as the blade entered his chest.
Silence.
Blood pouring out, creating a black pool on the cobbled street.
Then the blade was pulled out, making the staring Bethany flinch as the body before her twitched, the Templar's voice a low murmur seeping into Bethany's ears "May the Maker forgive you, mage."
And in the darkness of night, even with her brothers at her back, she felt alone.
8
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8
Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all her hard work.