"So, we're going to break into the cellar of mother's old family home and…"

"Get the will."

"You really think we're going to be able to get in and out without anyone noticing?" All Bethany could do was stare at her sister, wondering if she had gone mad. Breaking into a slaver's home… that sounded like the definition of insanity.

"Bethie," Beau said with more patience than she felt, busy sorting through the various papers -mostly letters claiming coin was owed- and other junk on Gamlen's desk. She was looking for the letter he had told her about. "We'll probably run into a trap or two, it won't be such a big deal. Besides, it's not the getting in part I'd worry about, it's Darktown, nobody is going to care. It's the being inside and setting off a trap or running into guards that you should be concerned with."

Bethany's fingers convulsed and she briefly imagined wrapping them around her sister's neck.

Gamlen hadn't actually said that mother had been mentioned in the will, one way or another, but they all knew from his actions and general unease with the topic that something had been said, something he didn't care for anyone to know. With that in mind, along with Bethany confiding several tidbits of information to her, she had made the decision to break in. First and foremost, mother had expressed that she wished she had died with Carver, which had cut Beau deeper than she would ever let any of them know. Secondly, Bethany had said that Gamlen had once told her the house was now owned by slavers, slavers he had lost a game of dice too. Third, mother had given Bethany an old key to the house and the cellar was accessible via the sewers.

That had all been yesterday and it seemed like fate was just lining up the dice for her, waiting for her to roll. She had slept on it and with a poultice on her side to take care of any infection and woke up with her mind made.

Bethany was almost regretting telling her impetuous sister all that. She wasn't afraid of the breaking and entering part, not with so much at stake. It was getting caught and either being killed or handed over to the templars that had her worried. She was just as desperate as Beau to see their grandparents will, the will Gamlen had said left him everything, including the house, but not desperate enough to risk their necks like this.

It had been when mother asked to see the will, that's when Gamlen had gotten shiftier, if it were even possible. After being prodded, he had finally admitted to leaving it behind at the mansion as he hadn't seen anymore use for it. Typical Gamlen and also very convenient for him. The prat.

"Ha! Found it!" Beau announced triumphantly, followed by a frustrated growl. "He opened it."

"You really aren't surprised, are you?" Bethany clucked her tongue chidingly. "He was probably checking it for coin, or information, or just because it's Gamlen and he's a sod."

"Probably, to all accounts, the old geezer." Beau read the note quickly, frowning slightly. "Varric wants us to meet him at the Hanged Man." She said finally, forehead wrinkling as she reread it. "I really hope he doesn't expect us to have all that coin yet, it's only been a few weeks."

"You're in luck, Beau," Varric said when his new business partner arrived, smiling up at her and Bethany from his place at his table. Before him lay maps, open ledgers, and a tankard. "Why don't you two sit down? You humans are too damn tall."

Exchanging looks, Bethany and Beau sat down, both waving away his offers of a drink. Beau took the lead, watching as he began putting away some of his things. "So, Varric, how am I in luck?"

The grin on his face only broadened. "You sure you won't have a pint? It's hard to trust someone who won't have a drink with you, more so when it's your partner."

Bethany had been watching Varric openly, a smile curving the corners of her lips. "You know what? I think I would like a pint."

"Thatta girl."

Beau once more exerted patience she didn't know she possessed as a drink for Bethany and a refill for Varric were called for and then served, waving off another offer of one for herself. She settled her butt in one of the chairs and waited, trying not to show her irritation because Varric was getting amusement from the situation. "Varric?"

"Yes, my dearest Isabeau?" He peered over the rim of his mug at her, eyes twinkling with good-natured albeit mischievous humor.

"You sent a letter asking to see me and then lure me in with a 'you're in luck' remark. But now you're purposefully keeping me in suspense." It was hard to keep the accusing note out of her tone, especially when his smile widened.

"It's what I do."

"Which is what, exactly?" Because for all she had come to learn of the dwarf, which wasn't much, he was mostly a talker and a drinker.

"I am a storyteller, amongst other things," he bowed teasingly at her while still in his chair.

That sounded about right. "If by storyteller you mean 'bullshitter' of the highest degree," she shot back, smiling without even realizing it. "Now honestly, what did you want to see us about?"

Bethany had been watching the two go back and forth with an amused grin on her face. It was plain to her that Isabeau was trying to maintain a wariness of Varric but it was a bit hard not to relax and have some fun around him. Not that she would ever blame her sister for being suspicious of others and their motives. After the events of Ostagar -which Bethany was sure Beau would never ever talk about – as well as their not so welcoming reception and first year in Kirkwall, she figured being suspicious was only to be expected if not considered a survival tool.

She gave her attention back to the conversation when she realized they were both staring at her with identical arched eyebrows and hid a smile. Apparently, she had missed something while lost in her musings and she idly wondered how long it had taken them to realize she had stopped paying attention.

"Your good luck happens to be at the expense of my brother's misfortune," Varric said as he moved from his chair and over to the fireplace, beginning to pace before it. His amused tone was at odds with the serious expression on his face as he glanced at the sisters. Bethany was finally paying attention and Beau was staring at the table. "We need to find a way into the Deep Roads."

Isabeau snorted as if to say 'is that all?' "So, is that what's taking him so long? He's not just gathering supplies and a team but also trying to find passage down?" She kind of wished she had taken Varric up on that drink because this sounded absolutely ridiculous to her. "What was the point of this expedition if he didn't have ANYTHING at all planned and ready to go besides hopes and dreams?"

"Now, Beau, he does have SOMETHING."

"Besides a stupid face?"

Varric nodded, bestowing her with one of his half smirks that the girls were beginning to learn were his way of smiling. He grinned but smiles were rare. "Bartrand can lead us to the right place once we're down there but we need a good entrance."

"Do we ever have a bad entrance?" Beau joked, ignoring Bethany's resigned sigh. "To be honest, and serious, with you Varric, I've fought darkspawn but I've never been to the Deep Roads." For which she was eternally grateful, and she would admit, the looming prospect of venturing down to said roads tended to send shivers down her spine.

"Fortunately for us, I've received some new information." He informed them, taking note of both the pleased and yet green expression on Beau's face. "So, this problem might be solved." He stressed might, not wanting to get their hopes up too high, just in case. He could already see Beau poking around for an entrance to the dangerous Deep Roads, whether she wanted to go down there or not, just because she needed the coin. That would make for a sad, desperate story and he wasn't in any hurry to tell it. "There's a Grey Warden in the city." He paused again while looks of understanding and appreciation appeared on both girls' faces. "If anyone knows how to get down there, it'll be him."

"Problem solved," Beau slapped a hand on the table with a pleased smile, having had a brief impression that she and Bethany would somehow have to manage to find a Deep Road entrance and knowing that wouldn't have gone over all that well. "We'll just ask him nicely if he'll tell us the way to Hell, should be easy peasy."

"Now sister," Bethany wagged a stern finger at her sister, ignoring Varric's amused chuckle. As if Beau needed encouragement! "We don't want any trouble with the Grey Wardens, do we?"

"Um, no, because they would kick our arses."

"Well, let's look at our options first," the dwarf interrupted. "I'd rather not go up against a Warden if it's all the same."

"Fair enough Varric, so what do we know about this Warden?"

"Are you sure you won't have a drink, Isabeau?"

"Sure, if you'll stop calling me that."

"Fine, Hawke then."

Getting a lead on the Grey Warden had turned out to be a bit easier than Beau had expected it to be. She had mentioned Fereldan refugees in front of Gamlen and he had immediately launched into a furious diatribe. That diatribe had mostly been about Lirene, a shopkeeper, and how she was attracting more and more riffraff into Lowtown with her charity giving. Uncle Gamlen could be so helpful at times, Maker bless him.

Neither Beau nor Bethie had been in this shop before, they hadn't realized that there was a place to go for help. Though, in retrospect, they had gotten on better than most during that first year since they had had a job of sorts and all. When they entered, it was extremely busy, busy and crowded, very noisy.

"Please!" A young girl shouted while trying to elbow her way through the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the woman in charge. "My mum's in labor, the babe has come early! Can anyone help her?"

Beau watched as a tall woman with dark hair stepped out from behind a counter. Her face was hard but her eyes were kind, a bit stern as well as weary, but kind. Automatically, she knew that this woman was Lirene.

"Alright Alannah, calm down. I'll send for the healer." Lirene reassured the crying girl as she bent over to place a comforting hand on the child's shoulder. "You go on back to your mother and keep her as comfortable as you can, understand?"

Nodding, the girl turned away. Bethany stepped back to let the girl pass, not about to be trampled again.

Lirene's gaze locked on Beau and she frowned. "We help refugees but those that have homes and jobs… not so much." She said flatly, eyeing their clothing which was a tad bit better than the other's surrounding them. They were both wearing clothing they had acquired during their time with Meeran and in his employ. The clothing was not only practical and sturdier than their others, but it was also in fairly good condition still. "Understand that I can't give priority to people who seem to be getting along better than these poor people."

"We're not here for that kind of assistance," Beau said after a moment, going with tact opposed to her usual sarcastic and joking manner, much to Bethany's obvious relief.

"Then what are you here for?" Lirene demanded irritably. "I've got enough work to be doing with hardly enough time to be doing it all. I don't have the time to waste on people who don't need anything!"

"I hear you know where I can find a Ferelden Grey Warden."

Lirene didn't even bat an eyelash. "Yeah sure, in Ferelden, on the throne. Both their Majesties are the only Ferelden Grey Wardens that I know of. The Blights over, what do you need with a Warden anyhow?"

"The healer was one of them once, wasn't he?" A middle-aged woman interrupted, having obviously been listening in on the conversation, such as it was. "He was a Warden, yes?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Lirene rolled her eyes heavenward and faced the woman. "Well, he's not now and Maker knows he has enough on his hands without answering foolish questions for foolish people."

"I don't want to bother anyone with foolish questions," Beau said gently, amending that mentally in her head with a 'much'. "I just need to speak with him."

"You're protecting him." Bethany observed, arching an eyebrow when Lirene's figurative feathers seemed ruffled. "Why?"

"Don't be daft, girl." The exasperation was in full force at this point and Lirene's mouth curved downward into a frown. "You've seen what our people suffer here in Kirkwall. They have no jobs, no homes and no prospects for either. Most can barely buy bread, let alone medicines. This healer serves them without thought for coin. He's closed their wounds, tended the sick, and delivered their children and has asked for nothing."

Isabeau was silent for a moment, contemplating that. "And yet he needs to hide?" Something here wasn't adding up.

"He's a good man, I won't lose him to those damned templars."

And then it clicked, comprehension dawning because now it all made sense. "He's a mage."

"Do you honestly think I would stick my neck out for some idiotic fool who uses henbane and leeches?" Lirene sounded offended.

Stepping forward, Bethany held out her hand. "Mistress, we would never turn someone over to the templars." She said reassuringly, a small wisp of light flaring for a moment over her palm. "Never." She clenched her hand, smothering the small light.

"He doesn't want to be locked away in the Gallows for using the gifts the Maker gave him, is that so wrong?"

"No."

"This man sounds too good to be true," Beau chuckled, attempting to lighten the moment, hardly believing Bethany had done that out in the open the way she had. But, it also seemed that Bethany's small display had somehow wormed them into Lirene's good graces as she was no longer eyeing them suspiciously. "If he has pretty eyes and a killer smile, I might consider marrying him." That was a joke, marriage seemed like such an ugly concept but it was worth seeing Bethany cringe.

Lirene began laughing, not the reaction either sister had been expecting. "Well, he's definitely got pretty eyes but I don't know about the smile, I've never seen him smile."

"Well that's a damn shame, everyone should try it at least once."

"Too true that, but then again, what's there for most to smile about?"

"Being alive is a good place to start."

Lirene nodded and fell silent for a moment, apparently mulling it over. "To find the healer, look for the lit lantern."

"Lit lantern, you know, I hate riddles."

"It's in Darktown, Isabeau."

"Well, that's certainly not helpful, Bethie."

"Beau, we can't go there by ourselves, it's not safe."

Beau really wasn't listening, thinking about what Lirene had said. Considering the other woman had asked them to deliver a message to this Grey Warden healer -Anders-, she could have been just a tad more explicit about his location. Especially since the message was: Alannah's mother is in labor, come quick.

"Isabeau!"

"What, Bethie?"

Bethany was more than tempted to whack her sister across the top of the head with her staff, frowning in annoyance. "We are NOT going to Darktown by ourselves."

"It's not like I've never been there before," she had, several times in fact, on business for Meeran. "If it's such a big deal, we'll stop by the Hanged Man and ask Varric if he wants to come along. He did say he'd help out on jobs, and this one is for the expedition anyway."

"Hmmm…."

"And we could also scout the entrance to mother's old home."

Knowing she had just been tossed a lure, Bethany played fish and swallowed it whole, knowing what her sister was doing. "Fine then, if we must."

"We must." Victory achieved.

"Get off me," Beau snapped, trying to shrug away the particularly annoying older man she had picked up on her way through Darktown. Another Fereldan refugee, like her, though unlike her, he was annoying. And persistent. Persistently annoying.

Finding the healer had been every bit as irritating as she had expected it to be. Darktown was not her favorite place in Kirkwall, and there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't thank the Maker her family hadn't wound up here. That had been an all to real possibility and if not for Gamlen possessing some sort of decency, likely spurred on by guilt and the meager coin Beau brought in, it's exactly where they'd be right now.

"We know what happens to mages in this town," the man snarled, tightening his grip on her shoulder. He had overheard her and her companions discussing 'look for the lit lantern', seen the weapons neither the dwarf or taller woman were bothering to hide and did not like the conclusion his mind had drawn for him. "And it's not going to happen to him, hear me woman?"

"That's right, you're not touching 'im!" Another refugee who had followed the group when beckoned by his mates shouted.

Fully prepared to drive a dagger through this fool's face, Beau whirled around with Bethany and Varric flanking her. She hesitated when she realized there was a bit of a crowd forming, inwardly heaving a sigh. "Look, we're Fereldans, same as you and just like you, we're also trying to stay out of the templars sight."

"Fereldan? But you, your clothes-"

"Why does it always come back to the damn clothes?"

Varric chuckled. "It is a rather nice outfit, Hawke. Green is definitely your color."

"Oh, shut up, Varric."

While the two bantered, Bethany had been keeping her eye on the men, who seemed a bit taken aback by Varric and Beau, not that she blamed them. The pair seemed to enjoy egging each other on. What Bethany didn't know was that both Varric and her sister were very much aware of the refugees standing there and were waiting for some sort of indication that they were about to be attacked. They were hoping their odd exchange while amusing to them would serve as a distraction or a deterrent.

Beau was confident enough in her abilities to take on a handful of refugees and that confidence was bolstered by the fact that Bethany was no slouch in the combat magic department, and she got the feeling Varric wasn't exactly a pushover either. But she wasn't aiming to have a fight in Darktown if she could help it, especially outside the Grey Warden's door. That and it did some wrong to attack these men. They were stupid yes, not necessarily dangerous. "Right, well…." She looked at the man who had instigated all of this.

"Maker bless king Alistair and his lovely queen!" He proclaimed before making a rather hasty departure, his friends following him reluctantly.

Bethany let out the breath she had been holding.

"Now that's over, shall we continue?"

"One of these days, Beau…"

"Now, now, ladies," Varric interrupted what he was sure would be an amusing little tiff between the sisters. "You should know that quarreling over me won't do you any good, I'm a one-woman man."

They both stared down at him with almost identical smiles and said together: "Bianca."

"Yes, Bianca," he reached back to fondly caress the crossbow. "Isn't that right, baby?"

"That is…

"….mildly disturbing."