I do not own Dragon Age or any of the characters.
Passage
Things had been progressing quickly. Athenril and Meeran had payed their way into the city up front, so the Hawkes had moved into their uncle's house, tiny though it was, Aveline had managed to get a job as a City Guardswoman, and lived in the barracks, and Theron lived in the Elven Alienage. It was, at best, a hovel. A single, large room, a small alcove for a latrine that he'd nailed a ragged curtain over for privacy, and a pile of rags for a bed. He and the Hawkes weren't paid, though Athenril had told him that if it came to a fight, she didn't mind if the corpses were left a little lighter by a few coins than before the fight.
Athenril's crew and the Red Iron rarely interacted, but any time they did, by some random twist of fate, Theron and the Hawkes seemed to always be present, so the groups had formed an unspoken rule, accepted by Athenril and Meeran, that the Hawkes would come to an agreement that suited both groups. Often, that meant the Red Iron killed their target and Bethany and Theron took their due from the target's belongings. But it had worked well so far. The Hawkes had settled into their jobs well. Carver was an excellent fit to the Red Iron, and Gabriel was skilled at violence. Theron was a skilled smuggler, and the view times it came to violence, he had proven himself lethal with his daggers. Bethany wasn't perfect as a smuggler, but when coupled with Theron, she was an expert. Gabriel, on the other hand, was as much an ace as smuggling as he was at violence. Better, even. He was a good fit for both groups. As always, he was a natural at everything he did.
"There's the ship," Bethany said softly, pointing to a faint flickering light out on the water. "They should be sending a small boat with the package."
Theron nodded silently, and after about three minutes, the small rowboat arrived. A single man sat in it, and Theron walked down to meet him. The boat never stopped, never slowed, and as it passed, the man handed Theron a staff. Theron accepted it, staring. It was a long, relatively straight branch with a spherical, orange crystal adorning the top, the branch splitting into numerous thin twigs coiled around the sphere, affixing it into the head of the staff. At the base of the staff, there was a blade. A double-edged, largely leaf-shaped blade with the fuller empty, the channel ending in a small, circular gap near the base of the blade. The staff was crudely formed, with red cloth wrapped around it mostly decoratively, but the wood of the staff, though notched and uneven, was smooth, the staff was light, and the crystal at its head shimmered with fire magic as Theron held it.
"Oh!" Bethany gasped. "It's like yours!"
"Same style, but not nearly on the same level," Theron said. "I miss mine. I worked so hard to make it. It was perfect."
"Perfect?" Bethany smirked as they headed for Athenril's hideout. "How many times did you complain about wishing you'd used a Crow Dagger?"
Theron rolled his eyes. "Alright, so it wasn't perfect. I still miss it."
Bethany laughed, nodding. "Maybe if you start with a metal staff as a base for the next one, you won't have to keep replacing them."
Theron sighed heavily, nodding. Then, he rested the staff on his shoulder as he knocked on the door to Athenril's hideout. The door opened after a moment, and Theron and Bethany entered. Theron walked to Athenril's private chambers, knocking on the door. After a moment, Athenril opened the door, grinning instantly.
"You did well," Athenril commended him, stepping out of his way. "Join me."
Theron obediently walked into the room, hearing Athenril closing the door behind him. He smirked knowingly. It wasn't the first time he'd been given a private audience. In the last couple of months that they'd been in Athenril's crew, Athenril would sometimes invite him for a drink when he did especially well at a difficult job, or obtained a package that was especially valuable. So, as she began to pour him a drink of her most expensive wine, he didn't immediately accept the cup.
"You might want to hold off on pouring a second glass," Theron warned. "I'm probably going to spoil the mood."
Athenril's expression curled into a half-scowl. "You want the staff?"
"I want the staff," Theron nodded. "You've seen for yourself how deadly I am with my knives, but with a staff like that one," he glanced at it, "one with a blade on one end and a bludgeon on the other, I'm double that, at least."
"Because you can add your magic to it?" Athenril asked.
"Because my knives used to be my sister's," Theron explained. "I created a fighting style with a staff like that that I mastered more than my sister's knives. It kept me alive on the front lines of the first and failed battle of the Blight."
Athenril considered. Although the Blight had been spreading slowly, Athenril knew of the gravity of the Battle of Ostagar. She's heard tell from many sources of how catastrophic that battle had been, as much as from Theron's own explanation. She knew that out of the forces that had battled alongside Cailan, of the forces that had been betrayed by Loghain, only a couple of handfuls of scattered soldiers had survived. She knew what it meant that Theron had been on the front line.
"Show me," she instructed, drawing her two, jagged, arrowhead-shaped daggers, with which he knew from experience she was nearly as deadly as Amelia had been.
Theron nodded, picking up the staff, then trailed his fingers along the staff. The entire length of the staff began to blow with a soft, blue light.
"It's a protective layer around the staff that will blunt the blade and prevent any damage at all to the weapon," Theron explained shortly, spinning the staff in his hands, slowly for a few seconds as he got a feel for its weight and balance before rapidly speeding up.
Once he was used to the staff, he nodded, and Athenril lunged. And then, she grunted, staggering away as the top end of the staff slammed into her gut, only to find the blade resting against the side of her neck. She blinked, then smirked, knocking it away and lunging into an all-out assault as fast as she could. However, Theron spun and twirled the staff as his body flipped and twirled and contorted, easily evading her strikes and batting the blades away. Even in the heat of the excessively lethal sparring match, Athenril could see his confident smirk, realizing he was toying with her. And then, in a flash, it was over as he spun away from her, driving the bladed end of his staff backward under his arm and into her chest, this time throwing her backward, airborne. She groaned, but he extended a hand, healing her, and she smirked, pushing herself up and nodding.
"Alright, I'll admit it," Athenril nodded. "That staff's a perfect fit for you."
"Not perfect," Theron admitted. "I'd prefer a metal staff, one with a less notched staff and a textured grip, but this staff has powerful enchantments worked into it already from the crystal."
He released his protective barrier and picked up one of Athenril's spare daggers, which she kept lying everywhere around her private quarters for emergencies, and slammed it down on the side of the staff. In a shower of bright, orange mana sparks, the wards protecting the staff repelled the blade with ease.
"My last staff was protected by similar wards, but this staff's are centuries beyond what my last staff had," Theron explained, setting the dagger back where it had been. "The crystal at the top is magic. It powers the staff's wards and enhances its wielder's fire-type magic, and the wards protect it as well. I could probably break one of your daggers against the crystal or the wood and not leave a mark."
"Impressive," Athenril nodded. "Alright, I'll make you a deal." She set her daggers aside and walked over, looping her arms around his neck. "You can keep the staff...if you can make it worth the loss. That staff was heading for an Imperium Magister, Dan...something. He was prepared to pay a small fortune for it. You want it, convince me you've earned it."
Theron raised an eyebrow, but then grinned. "I knew there was a reason you kept bringing me here." He leaned the staff against the wall. "Have it your way." He grabbed her by the ass, lifting her, and her legs immediately locked around him, her lips fusing to his as he carried her to her bed.
Athenril hummed, pleased, as she trailed a finger over his chest and down to his toned, though not excessively so, abs. "You've definitely earned that staff."
"Good," Theron nodded. "Last night was fun."
"It was," Athenril nodded. "I'm going to be feeling the lack of sleep all day today, unlike my legs, but yes, it was fun. And fun is all it was."
Theron snorted. "Trust me, you may be beautiful, but you're not the type I want to have a life with."
"No," Athenril agreed. "Do you think she'll be jealous about this?"
Theron raised an eyebrow, but Athenril snorted.
"Trust me, after the number of times she described you jumping off a cliff to fight an Ogre to save her, it's pretty clear what your motivations were, and that she has yet to realize them," Athenril smirked. "Who knows. Maybe if she sees you fucking me regularly, she'll wise up and try to steal you."
Theron pulled his arm out from under Athenril and stood without a word.
Athenril laughed. "I seem to have touched a nerve. Consider it payback for all the nerves you touched last night." She watched as he pulled his pants on and reached for his armored vest. "Oh, and you won't need your armor anymore. I went ahead and got you some new armor."
Theron stopped, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Oh, don't give me that look," Athenril snorted. "Your armor's one slash away from disintegrating."
He looked down at it and the mess of gashes, puncture marks, burns, and shoddy repairs decorating it. "I suppose it has taken a beating."
"Exactly," Athenril said. "Don't worry. This gift is free. Unless you want to earn it."
Theron rolled his eyes, and Athenril shrugged, standing and taking a moment to stretch her legs before opening a cabinet and revealing the armor within. It was Ferelden-styled leather armor. Beautiful, expertly replicated, and customized for his personal tastes in armor. He'd turned down new armor several times already on account of being uniquely picky about the aesthetics of his armor, even more so than the functionality. But this armor he liked. The cuirass of the armor was very similar to the usual leather armor of Ferelden, but with thick, leather straps over the tops of the shoulders as extra protection, a sort of splinted design with thin, light, metal plates riveted inside of leather armor sleeves protecting the front and back from about mid-chest down, the sides protected by thick, sturdy yet flexible, leather armor, the upper chest was protected by metal plate, though a light metal, which was designed open at the front like a collar. Laces crossed in front of the apparent collar to hold the shoulder strips on, a pair of straps on the sides allowed the armor to be loosened to slip over the wearer's head, with the collar of the metal plate at the top just large enough to do the same, and a single pauldron occupied the left shoulder, its face decorated by small, metal plates and the bottom of it and the shoulder straps accented by white, faux fur. The armor included a pair of fingerless gauntlets bearing a row of metal splints leading up to elbow guards matching the pauldron, and a pair of metal-plated, leather boots with matching knee guards. A thick, wide, metal belt was wrapped around the armor's waist, and thick, leather tassets hung down below it. All of the leather on the armor was a dark brown, perfect for blending into the shadows, while all of the metal was a dull white. The thick straps over the tops of the shoulders were accented in a matching white, and in all, the armor had a clean, expensive look to it. Included with the armor was a sleeveless, black shirt, and black pants that would be somewhere between tight and loose.
"Alright, it's not terrible," Theron admitted, dropping his pants and pulling his underwear on before beginning to dress himself in his new armor.
Everything fit as perfectly as if it had been custom-tailored, which Theron suspected it had been, and even with metal plating and reinforcements, it was actually lighter than the armor Athenril was tossing into a trash chute.
"You look good in it," Athenril smiled approvingly. "I don't have any work for you at the moment, so feel free to head home, if you like."
Theron thanked her, then collected his new staff and left, finding Bethany waiting for him.
"New armor?" Bethany asked. "I guess sleeping with the boss has perks."
"The armor was apparently because she got tired of looking at my old armor, which I'll admit was in a bit rough a shape," Theron explained. "The staff I had to earn."
Bethany rolled her eyes. "No wonder you and Gabriel get on so well. You both see sex as equal parts currency and sport."
Theron shrugged. "Sex is an excellent means of getting your way. But that's not all it is. I'm just currently not in a relationship, so there's no reason not to use every asset at my disposal."
"Oh, I'm sure it's an asset, alright," Bethany said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, though she was grinning.
"Little do you know, it's my real magic staff," Theron quipped.
Bethany snorted, shaking her head. "Coming from anyone else, I'd probably slap you. So, do we have a job today?"
"Yes," Theron nodded. "Relax."
Bethany nodded as they reached the Alienage. "You know, you can come stay with us, if you want."
Like Theron, she was eyeing his hovel. Calling it a building was overstating it. It was the only structure made out of wood, and it had gaps, holes, and some of the wood was starting to rot. Theron sighed.
"As much as I'd love to get out of that, there's no room at Gamlen's house," Theron said. "It's already too cramped with just your family." He shook his head. "Once we've gone our year, we can make enough money to warrant the time of day from rich folk. Then, while you and your family are making your fortune, maybe I'll cheat an estate of my own off of a noble in a game of cards."
"Or seduce some noble woman into letting you live with her?" Bethany smirked.
Theron snorted. "Let's try to keep our expectations realistic."
They headed into Theron's hovel together, and Theron sighed in relief as he opened the half-rotted wardrobe and found his wine was still present. He took it out, taking a swig, and offered it to Bethany.
"She gave you a bottle of her wine?" Bethany smirked.
"Reward for keeping one of her contacts alive," Theron explained simply as Bethany took a drink.
They spent the rest of the day together, talking about nothing of particular importance and enjoying the wine.
"I don't remember inviting you," Theron said flatly, as he watched the Coterie walk over to them, weapons drawn.
"That's the package," the Dwarf in the lead said, staring at the chest.
"Let's kill 'em and get gone before any of the City Guardsman show up," another of them, a Rogue, suggested.
The lead Dwarf nodded, readying his sword and shield, and Theron sighed, walking forward, his staff held across his back.
"I've got this," Theron said casually, Bethany, Athenril's contact, and the rest of Athenril's men all leaning on the buildings around them casually.
"Cocky for a knife-ear," the dwarf chuckled. "Get him!"
The Dwarves charged, but as the leader slashed at him, Theron took off. In an instant, he had twirled around the Dwarf, his staff's blade splitting the Dwarf diagonally up the back before the head of his staff drilled into another Dwarf's face, crushing it and freeing several teeth. A pair of Rogues leapt at him from the sides, but he bent over and spun, his staff's head crashing into the side of one's head, breaking his neck, as the blade slashed another up the chest, the side of his neck, and the side of his head. Both Dwarves were deflected and crashed down just as Theron's staff's blade arced down through the Dwarf whose nose he'd ruined. A pair of archers drew back their bows, but Theron was suddenly moving, avoiding their arrows as he spun and weaved through the Dwarves. One head spun into the air, one skull collapsed under a blow from the head of the staff, one was impaled through the heart, one's throat was crushing to his spine by a blow from the staff, and then he'd reached the archers, ducking under a pair more arrows before spinning and knocking both bows out to the side before slashing through both of their chests, killing both. As they crashed to the ground, Theron turned back to the four remaining Dwarves, who stared at him in a mixture of awe and terror.
"I'll leave one of you alive to pass a warning on to the Coterie," Theron offered.
The Dwarves all grit their teeth, preparing to strike, only for three of the others to step up beside them, driving daggers into their chests from behind. The last shrieked in fear, only for Theron and the others to put their weapons away.
"Congratulations," Theron said. "You live, today. Here's your message."
The Dwarf nodded, pale but listening carefully.
"Tell your superiors that if they want to play games, Theron would be more than happy to play. And if they want to do business, I'd be glad to do that, too."
The Dwarf nodded, scrambling away from them, and Theron watched him go before turning back to the others.
"That might come back to haunt us," Bethany pointed out.
"It'll be fine," Theron assured her.
"Your foresight is impressive," Athenril commended. "That display you put on for the Coterie, coupled with the message you sent, gave the Coterie pause. Impressive."
"Thank you," Theron smiled.
"Next time, just kill them on," Athenril said sternly. "No more messages without okaying it with me."
"Deal," Theron nodded.
Theron yawned, stretching, then stood, leaving the sheet to cover Athenril's bare form. He began to dress himself, feeling her watching him as he was pulling his shirt on. Once he'd finished with his armor and picked up his staff, he looked back at her. "What's on the agenda today?"
"I need you to help one of my contacts get into the city," Athenril said. "He got set up, so I need him escorted into the city alive."
Theron nodded, slipping his staff into its holster on his back.
"There he is!" the heavily-armed man shouted, he and a dozen more sprinting over. "That's the scum that fed us that bad info!"
Theron stepped forward instantly, staff out to the side and ready with the blade behind him. "Leave or die!"
"Wait!" a familiar voice called out, a pair of the men pushing their way to the front. "Theron?"
"Carver?" Theron blinked.
"Gabriel!" Bethany gasped in relief, joining Theron at the front as Theron's posture lost all of its hostility.
Gabriel wore a black-and-green brigandine over a long-sleeved, black shirt, and black pants. He wore leather gauntlets and boots, and his brigandine had steel plated on the shoulders. Carver wore a suit of fairly plain plate mail with thick leather pauldrons and leather sections over the top corners of the chestplate.
"Thank the Maker," Theron said. "It's just the Red Iron."
"They want to kill me!" Theron's charge reminded him.
"Shut up," Theron warned him. "So, he screwed over the Red Iron. Any deaths?"
"Fortunately, no," Gabriel shook his head.
"The Hawkes are good at keeping people alive," the leader of the Red Iron squad explained. "Messed up a load of Coterie and Carta thugs, too."
"It was the Coterie and the Carta?" Theron asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah," Gabriel nodded. "Definitely."
"Coincidence?" Bethany asked.
"Doubtful," Theron shook his head, turning to the man he was protecting. "Where'd you get the info?"
"Same place I get most of my info," the man shrugged. "Kept an ear open at the bar, supplied drinks to the right people, asked leading questions to drunk patrons. Drunks will talk about anything."
"So will Coterie agents trying to set a trap," Theron growled, turning back to the Red Iron. "Okay, here's what's going to happen. You're going to beat him until you're satisfied he's learned his lesson, but under no circumstances are you allowed to cripple or kill him."
"What!?" Theron's charge demanded.
"Why not?" the Red Iron leader snarled.
"Because doing so would start a war with Athenril's forces," Theron explained. "We're more numerous, stealthier, and less moral or upstanding."
The Red Iron thug snorted. "We have the Hawkes."
"Even if Carver and I magically decided to fight against our sister and Theron, it wouldn't be enough," Gabriel spoke up. "Theron has beaten Carver more than a hundred times and never lost, and Theron and I have never determined a winner. Even if we decided to kill each other, it would probably end in us both dying."
"As I said, beat him, but don't cripple or kill him," Theron explained. "And be quick about it. I'd rather not stand here to wait for company."
The Red Iron glanced around, then nodded. The leader and several others moved forward, beginning to pummel Theron's charge, but before Theron had to step in, they backed off. Bethany healed him partly, enough for him to walk himself and be fully conscious, and Theron turned back to Gabriel and Carver.
"Tell Meeran to meet me at Athenril's place," Theron instructed. "Both of you come, too."
The Hawke brothers nodded, and the groups split up for their bases.
"I told you, Theron, I don't want to go to war with the Coterie, or the Carta," Athenril said sternly.
"Neither do I," Meeran added.
"We're already at war with them," Theron said. "The problem is, they set a trap for your contact to try to make us go to war with the Red Iron first, and then they'd move in while we're worn down from the fighting and slaughter whoever's left. If we don't deal with this, it'll only get worse."
"I agree," Gabriel nodded. "Better to deal with them now."
"What do you recommend?" Athenril asked. "An all-out assault?"
"No," Theron shook his head. "Use your contacts to find out the Coterie and the Carta's movements. Then, unleash me. I'll bring them to heel myself."
Athenril frowned, but Meeran laughed.
"You've got guts!" Meeran commended. "I kind of wish I'd recruited you after all."
"I'd have joined Athenril anyway," Theron shrugged. "Contrary to what I now have to do, I'm not a killer at heart. But the Coterie decided to play games, so I'm going to ensure we win."
"Alright," Athenril nodded. "I don't like it, but alright. I'll contact you whenever I have a lock on them. We'll squeeze them till they pop."
Theron nodded, and they began to set up a more concrete plan to keep the peace between their groups in the meantime.
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