"This bread's delicious!"

Bethany raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Carver practically burying his face into the brownish loaf, then over at Garrett across the dining table, the man looking back at her with a smirk in his eyes, making Bethany stifle a giggle as she turned back to her twin. "It's nearly a week old and got soggy in the rain on the way back yesterday..."

"I know! And that did wonders to it!" Carver replied with a grin, only to dig back into the loaf, apparently set on eating the entire thing there and then. Is he just putting us on? Bethany shook the thought aside, her brother didn't have a deceitful bone in his body.

Garrett shifted, the little smile on his lips not dying, telling Bethany he wouldn't reproach his brother as he usually did when it came to eating more than you needed to. "I believe you owe Maric an apology."

At that the dog looked up from where he lay in the corner of the dining room, the marrow he was about to lick out of the bone his jaws had snapped momentarily forgotten. Carver didn't even do that, his face still buried in the bread as he managed a muted reply: "How's that?"

To Bethany's right, Gamlen and Leandra also stirred. The two had formed some form of truce over the last six months. Bethany supposed it was necessary when you had to spend so much time with one another, but also figured that they found a peace in one another, painful memories and regrets were better than nothing at all after all, giving them both a sense of home and belonging they had lacked for years.

"Wasn't it you who only a day ago said he would be ready to eat anything?" Garrett shot Bethany a glance, giving her a rare wink. "I think you ought to look at yourself in a mirror."

"Wha-?" Carver finally raise his head, crumbs covering his mouth and chin, even a few stray ones across his cheeks, cheeks widened with the bread still within them.

Silence.

Everyone staring at Carver, him staring back with a blank look on his face.

Then a titter escaped Leandra, followed by a chuckle from Gamlen...and Bethany laughed, making Garrett's smile widen even as Gamlen and Leandra joined in with the laughing. Then Carver's mouth opened as even he was drawn into the laugh, spilling crumbs all over the table as his hands vainly tried to sweep it up and stop the growing mess.

Then, one of the rarest of things happened, Garrett's already rare smile turned into a warm chuckle.

A crash.

The laughs instantly stopped, everyone flying to their feet and whirling about to face the door.

Just in time for the second crash, this time hard enough to make the door swing open and a horde of people to pour in.

For a moment Bethany felt terror grip her heart, the images of Templars coming for her or the Coterie coming for revenge were something fresh out of her nightmares, and every time someone opened the door those images flashed before her eyes.

Relief, if tainted with annoyance, replaced it though as she saw Athenril among the people stumbling into their home.

Only for it to be replaced by a third emotion, worry.

The elf was usually all smiles and confidence, but today she looked ragged, her brown hair dirtied, rogue strands having been pulled free from the leather band it usually was pulled into. Her green leather armour had been smudged with blood, though none of it seemed to be her own. She was also bent forward, struggling to help one of the Footpad's more experienced Fereldian men into the room as another closed the door behind them, eyes narrowed as he cast a final glance outdoors.

Oh no.

Rising to her feet Bethany's wide eyes travelled over the rest of the people that had stumbled in. Most of them were Kirkwallers, veterans in Athenril's gang, in fact several of them were her usual escort...though several of them were missing, and those that were there looked dirtier than usual, not to mention most sported cuts and bruises, some of them bad.

"What in the name of the Maker...!" Leandra, sitting closest to the door, had flown to her feet and stumbled into Gamlen, the man holding onto her shoulders even as the both of them backed away from the sight with wide eyes. "What's the meaning of this!"

It had been a silent agreement between the siblings that they'd keep their mother out of their 'work' as much as possible, they didn't want her to worry, nor to hear of the horrors they sometimes had to deal with. As such Bethany was not surprised when a low growl escaped Garrett as he stepped in front of his mother, glaring at the sight. "Explain yourself."

"I really don't see how you can't figure it out yourself." Athenril retorted with a somewhat strained chuckle. "Let's just say the Coterie has taken on a bit...harsher tone with us."

Garrett didn't answer her, instead he glanced back and gestured for his mother...who without a word lowered her head, grabbed Gamlen by the arm and silently moved into the other room, the door clicking shut behind the two.

The moment the door closed, Garrett turned back to the elf, eyes narrowed, voice a low rumble. "I told you they would, I told you they would start to use violence." The accusation was clear in his voice.

Athenril merely shrugged, ignoring him as she with surprising care let the man she was supporting down onto the floor, hands moving to check a nasty gash across his shoulder. "And I listened, but you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs...or that is, an empire without a few fights."

"We are the weaker si-"

"Which we will continue to be if we don't do something about it, silly boy." Athenril interrupted with a raised chin and a smirk on her face, making Garrett bristle.

Bethany rolled her eyes. Here we go again... Garrett, confident in his position as Athenril's right hand, always argued with her about their current campaign against the Coterie. Though 'argue' was perhaps too harsh a word, Garrett was always level-headed enough about the matter to act respectfully and never raise his voice, while Athenril seemed to find a strange pleasure in baiting and teasing the man whenever he brought up the subject.

Yet to Bethany's surprise, and Carver's disappointment if she read his face right, Garrett took a deep breath and waved the old subject aside. "Never mind that, I'm more curious why you're here." He raised a hand to silence Athenril before she could respond. "Or rather, how you dare to come here with wounded men, into my home."

For a moment Athenril actually hesitated as anger flickered under Garrett's steady gaze. Then she smirked, shaking her head, a tut escaping her. "Garrett,Garrett...when will you learn? I dare anything when it comes to my men...you know why?" She moved closer, and though her elven stature made her turn her head up to look up at Garrett, the confidence in her eyes didn't waver for a moment as she pushed a finger into Garrett's chest. "Because I own you."

Silence.

Garrett's brow narrowed into a scowl, voice low as he growled the words. "Not forever." Athenril blinked even as the man continued to scowl down on her, voice still low and threatening. "And I also expected the courtesy of you to not barge into my home with wounded men, which not only draws the attention of the Coterie but also risks drawing the city guard or Templars to my doorstep. Did I not make that clear before? The Footpad business was not to touch this place."

For a moment Athenril actually seemed to waver...then the smirk turned into a toothy grin as she tossed her head back and chuckled. "Ha! That's what I like about you! You actually think you have a say in these things! You think..." Something coy appeared in her eyes as she regarded the human while lowering her voice. "...you're in charge, makes it all the more fun to show you just how wrong you are..."

Eugh, I think I'm going to be sick. Bethany grimaced and looked away, she had learnt to abhor their boss for some time now. Athenril might be a capable smuggler, but she was arrogant and enjoyed her power far too much. The fact that they were indebted to her and she had blackmail material on them had very obviously – even to Bethany – given her many opportunities to sink her claws into Garrett whenever they had some downtime. If it actually was him or the power of the situation she enjoyed, Bethany didn't even want to think about. He deserves better then to be forced to be with that...thing!

Garrett at least seemed to share her opinion about their employer, though he never let it show except at home, where they were supposed to be safe. As such she more than understood the anger in his voice as he growled the words. "Why. Are. You. Here?"

"Isn't it obvious? A little ambush and some of my people got hurt...so we went for the nearest safe place we knew of. Some of the men needs tending to..." As Bethany looked back to the scene she found Athenril shrugging as she took a step back so she could lean her back against the fireplace. "..and your sister, she has done a good job so far, but she's hardly been the mage I ordered." She shrugged in Bethany's general direction.

"I'm right here..." Bethany pointed out, unsure what to do. On the one hand she had been told never to use magic unless absolutely needed, it had been drummed into her since she was five and accidentally frozen her overly hot soup solid...on the other side she really wanted to use it, to once more be more useful than one who knew to follow her brother's directions to the letter... "What do you need?"

Garrett scowl moved over to her...and Bethany practically felt her soul wither within her. The question had been asked though, and it was with a measure of amusement that Athenril turned to her. "Well my poor boys are hurt...you're a mage, so make them non-hurt."

"My sister isn't much of a healer..." Garrett protested, the words somewhat meek as several of the so far quiet men in the room shot him glares while they nursed their injuries.

Athenril, crossing her arms over her chest, arched an eyebrow at Bethany, ignoring her brother. "Well?"

"I'll...try..." Bethany grimaced, of all the magic at her disposal, healing was...awkward. Still, it was better than doing nothing, so she moved towards the nearest man, a stocky Kirkwaller whose grey hair and dirty face made him look older than he was. Dropping onto her knees next to him she took his arm, grimacing at the sight of the long cut going down its length, exposing the flesh and muscles beneath, even a hint of bone where the wound had deepened. "Hold still."

The man was big, yet trembled at her touch as she took a deep breath. The energies of the weeds outside, of the fish in the nearby sea, of all the thousands in the city, of the of the rats underneath the floorboards...she drew upon it, felt it struggle and twist, unwilling to heed her command as she began drawing it into her hand. Bethany was so caught up in her work that she at first didn't even hear the whispered prayer of the man. "-serve man, and never to rule over him." Glancing up, she found the man's gaze fixed on the flickering green glow of her hand above his arm, cold sweat pouring down his forehead as his lips kept moving in a whisper. "Foul and corrupt are they. Who have taken His gift."

Feeling her heart sink, Bethany joined in, even though it hurt, she understood and accepted the message. Yet there was a comfort in the Maker's words...and that was what the man needed. "And turned it against His children." The man flinched at her voice, but Bethany held onto his arm as she with renewed effort forced the energy of growth into his injury, glad that he didn't know that most came from the rats and weeds of Lowtown. "The shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world."

Silence.

Then Bethany sighed in relief as she with slumped shoulders let the energy die out, finding the man's injury now nothing but a red crust over a nearly healed cut. Her father had been able to heal it all the way through and not even leave a mark behind...but that would have to do. She was already sweating from the effort, making her dress uncomfortable as it stuck to her skin. "Or beyond..."

"Erm..." The man stared at his unmade injury, seemingly embarrassed even before he looked back up at her. "...thank you."

"You're quite welcome." Bethany replied with a grunt as she put her hands on her knees and struggled onto her feet, annoyed with how light-headed she already felt. I'm no healer, that's for sure. At least I'm being useful... She shot her older brother a defiant look.

Garrett hadn't moved from where he stood, but there was something soft in his eyes as he considered her. "You are no maleficar."

Bethany nodded reluctantly as she looked away, to her next target. I know, I'm an apostate, not that many consider there to be a difference...and sometimes I wonder if there actually is a difference. The Maker gave us this 'gift'...yet since my very existence is dangerous...then shouldn't all magic I do outside of Chantry supervision be forbidden magic?

She moved over to the next man, a Fereldian that looked more like a skeleton than a man, the eyes in his gaunt face shining with the desperation of a man on the verge of collapse. No doubt his payment is nothing but food...or drugs... Sighing, Bethany knelt beside him, banishing the thought, as well as her wondering if he had had a good life before he'd been forced to flee to Kirkwall. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt..."

The man shrugged, a pale smile on his face, apparently not in the least worried about the touch of magic. Probably because he's so tired... Grabbing him by the shoulders she helped him rest his back against the wall and look at the jagged cut across his chest, it was shallow, but it seemed to have been enough to drain the man into a pale husk, his already weak body unable to manage the injury.

This is going to take more effort. Rolling up her sleeves, Bethany went to work.

Even so she could hear Garrett behind her growl at Athenril. "This discussion isn't finished."

Bethany shuddered in disgust as she felt Athenril's smirk. "I was hoping you'd say that..."

8

8

8

Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being mad enough to stand me.