Update: As of November 3, 2012, my pen name has changed from Rhapsody88 to Kyla Baines.

Prologue

I never wanted this. I never wanted to be the one to take my family away from our home in Lothering, or the reason that we never were part of a true community there. I'm not even a real leader; I much prefer to follow along and do what's asked of me. She was the true leader, not me. Now I find myself in a foreign place with what's left of my family, and no idea where to go from here.

How did I even get here, though? I suppose that the easy answer is that the encroaching Blight in Ferelden forced us here. Things are always far more complicated than you can sum up in a simple sentence, though. My family and I fled Lothering just as the refugee tents on the edge of town began to burn, silhouetting the town behind us in a blood red haze as twilight approached. We barely made it out before the first of the darkspawn crashed through the gates. We ran through the night, and the following morning the real trouble began.

We met up with Aveline and her wounded (templar) husband, and decided that there was strength in numbers. Mother suggested that Kirkwall might be our best option, and most of us agreed that it was the only option. Everything went fairly well until that afternoon. We managed to hold back the small groups of darkspawn that we encountered, and were all beginning to feel confident that we would make it to Gwaren.

We walked into an open area that looked down on the passage that would lead us through the Brecilian Forest and eventually to Gwaren. That is when all things fell apart.

Aveline looked down at her feet as she made to set her shield down for a moment, intending to unpack something to eat. Little pebbles began to jump around her boots, and we all began to back up slowly. Then, the most monstrous sight I have ever seen thundered into view.

At least twelve feet of pure evil stood perfectly still for a moment, regarding all of us with its small, vile eyes, topped by wickedly curling horns. It's sickly grey skin was mottled and covered in open sores and warts, and the smell – Maker, the smell coming off of it – almost floored all of us right then.

Suddenly, it charged, and all of us dove off to the side in a desperate attempt to avoid being crushed by the ogre. Carver and I found ourselves to one side, and Marian was off to the other with Mother. The thing looked around and fixed its gaze on Wesley and Aveline, who were still down. Carver and I dashed at it together, determined to stop it from killing anyone in our group.

We were too late. Marian, with the uncanny speed of the rogue, had already leapt on its back and drew her daggers, preparing to drive them deep into the creature's skull. She was unprepared for it to spin, though. She lost her balance, and fell to the ground. It picked her up, and, crushing my sister in its iron grip, smashed her into the rocky ground over and over. I was numb with shock, praying with more fervor than I ever had before that the Maker would save her. Carver and Aveline managed to finally slay it, and then we turned to the bloodied and broken body that was my older sister.

I knelt down next to her, and she was barely breathing. As I reached down to wipe her short, dark hair to the side, her green eyes fluttered open. I began weaving together the only healing spell that I knew, but her cold hand rested gently on my arm.

"Bethy... Get them… away…"

I barely saw her draw her final breath through the tears that began to fall. I vaguely remember hearing Mother start to scream. Other than that, it was eerily silent.

My sister – consummate survivor… fearless leader… mediator when we disagreed… best friend – gone. Forever.

It didn't sink in when a dragon flew overhead, bathing the incoming darkspawn in flame, saving us from certain death. Nor did it faze me when the dragon turned into a woman who offered to help us get to Gwaren in return for a favor. I vaguely remember Carter asking my opinion on this mysterious figure, but I do not know what I might have answered.

Nor did I understand the depth of my loss as I barely noticed the haunting beauty of the forest where the Dalish were rumored to be. It didn't even sink in when we arrived in Gwaren and boarded a ship filled with refugees just like us. I suppose it finally truly hit me when we met up with dear Uncle Gamlen. He made some snide comment, muttering under his breath, about one less mouth to feed. I let him know exactly how I felt about that comment by breaking his nose. I like to think that she would have been proud of me – her non-confrontational sister – at that moment.

And now, here we are: the City of Chains. One of the most dangerous places for a mage like me to be, Blight or no Blight.

Still reeling from the loss of Marian, I find myself plagued by thoughts that she, my protective and loving sister, normally would have been considering.

How do I keep away from the Templars here, when I barely avoided their notice in a less rigid town?

How do I provide for my family, when we're just another set of needy, refugee mouths wanting to be fed?

Maker, how do I even begin to think of this as "home"?

All I know at this point is that I must fulfill my sister's dying wish, and take care of our family here in Kirkwall. Taking on this role was so natural for her, and I doubt that I will ever feel comfortable taking control. I cannot let her down, though. She took care of me all her life, and was my rock after Father died. I swear that, somehow, I will make her proud of me.

My family has been torn away from our home in Ferelden. My sister – my protector, confidante, and best friend, is dead. I am confused and hurting, with little idea of what to do next. I am Bethany Hawke, and this is my story.

Chapter 1

Bethany glanced around at the dilapidated, light stone buildings that lined the perpetually muddy streets of the Docks district in Kirkwall. Her jet-black hair hung in waves past her shoulders, and moved gently with the wind, framing the soft lines of her face. The smell of salt and fish gore permeated the air, and saturated her in the odor with each passing breeze.

Lowtown may not be much to look at either, but at least it's not as damp or smelly.

Carver shifted from foot to foot edgily as he stood slightly apart from his twin, every so often glancing in her direction. His large, two-handed sword glinted eerily in the late afternoon sun, throwing small patterns of light onto a building just down the street.

Finally, a small figure flanked by two much larger ones stepped out from the shadows. Carver straightened up and stopped fidgeting as Bethany walked forward to meet the trio.

"Athenril," she said, nodding her head in greeting to the petite, brown-haired elf.

"Well, kids, I suppose your year is up, isn't it?" the elf replied, folding her arms loosely. It wasn't a question. "I suppose that you've worked off your debt, though I think that things could have been a bit more… profitable."

Bethany restrained herself from frowning. Athenril had made no secret of her disappointment over the past year that it was not the eldest Hawke she had heard so much about from Gamlen, but rather the less notorious twins that were helping her thieving operation.

And I suppose the two of us count for nothing, then? It's as if she thinks that she would actually be a major contender against the Coterie without us!

"Here's your share from this last operation. Don't spend it all in one place," the smuggler mocked as she turned to walk away. She knew perfectly well that Bethany and Carver had needed to be extraordinarily frugal just to scrape by.

As the trio faded back into the shadows, Bethany sighed, remembering how Marian used to do exactly the same thing in the woods near their home in Lothering. It would frustrate Carver to no end that he was unable to keep up with his older sister in that environment. She would seemingly materialize out of the dappled backdrop the trees created, sneak up behind her brother, and steal his coin pouch before running ahead of him laughing, holding her prize above her head as she went. Bethany smiled at the memory.

Yes, Marian would have done well this past year. I can't say that we've done too terribly for ourselves though. It would just be so much better if all of us were here together, though… as a family.

"Are you quite ready, Sister?"

Carver's voice, more than a hint of irritation coming through, broke through her reverie.

"Yes, I suppose that Mother and Uncle Gamlen will want to hear the good news."

As they began the winding and uphill walk back to the Lowtown slums where Gamlen's excuse for a home was located, Carver began speaking. It was the same thing that he had told Bethany a thousand times these past months.

"Now that we've worked this debt off, I think that I'll go see Aveline right away. If I can become a member of the City Guard, maybe I'll finally be able to make something of myself, and not have to worry about living in this shithole anymore." Here, he shot Bethany a look that she knew all too well; the look that said I blame you for this mess we're in.

She had grown accustomed to it, though, and all too used to his self-serving attitude. She chose to shrug it off. Bethany knew her brother was hurting and upset.

Kill them with kindness, she mused, remembering one of her father's favorite mantras.

"That would be a good idea, Carver. Perhaps you can go later today."

Carver just scowled. "Well you are going to have to come with me, you know. I can't very well get into the barracks alone… they all know that Aveline likes you better than me."

"That's fine. I can come along. It would do me good to see Aveline again," not bothering to agree with her brother. What he said was true, though – Carver did tend to get off on the wrong foot with people.

Bethany smiled inwardly at the thought of her brother getting a job with the Guard thanks to her. He would hate the thought that he owed that to her! But then, Carver never did fully understand the concept of helping one another just for the sake of family.

The two dark-haired siblings trudged up the steps leading to Gamlen's door, little clouds of dust spiraling around their boots. The interior was little better: the floor was a substantial layer of dirt and grime over hard stone, and the walls bare and smooth, aside from several run-down areas where small chunks of stone and mortar had fallen out, revealing the wooden beams inside the walls. There was a small, smoky blaze coming from the corner fireplace, indicating that Mother and Gamlen probably hadn't been gone long. The only other light came from the small, high windows, and a couple of candle stubs that had been carelessly stuck onto the writing table with melted wax.

Bethany walked back to the small room she shared with her mother, and carefully lifted the loose floorboard underneath their small end table. She put the handful of silver she and Carver had earned that day into the depressingly light coin pouch she kept hidden. After a moment's pause she transferred five silvers to her smaller, traveling purse she kept tied to her buckle and tucked under a fold in her robes. Carver had already taken his cut of the money, and Bethany had little doubt that he planned to squander it on drink at the Hanged Man later that night.

"Mother left us a note," she heard Carver call from the main room. "She and Uncle Gamlen went to get some food supplies for the week. This would be a good time to go to the barracks."

Ah, and that would be where the extra coin went…

Two hours later, Bethany found herself waiting at the top of the huge staircase leading up to the Viscount's keep where the barracks were located. She wondered what was taking so long with Carver, and hoped that it was a good thing. She had spoken only briefly with Aveline, who, upon escorting Carver to see the Guard Captain needed to head out on her patrol. According to her, the patrol schedule seemed rather odd, and organization within the Guard wasn't as good as she was used to back in Ferelden.

Poor Aveline… She's lost so much, too. Hopefully she adjusts well to life here – at least she has a job that pays moderately well.

Leaning inconspicuously against a pillar, Bethany studied Viscount's Way. The massive white stone buildings towered far above anything else in the city, and, in this part of town were kept immaculately clean. There were enormous flags above her carrying the heraldry of the city in bright red – a beacon that drew the eye against the starkly contrasting white backdrop of the flag itself and all of the architecture. The beginnings of small vines could be seen, doggedly making their way down the sides of buildings that were not maintained quite as rigorously as the Keep itself. Bethany rather liked their appearance, though, thinking that some color actually did the area credit.

She strode forward as she saw Carver walking out of the massive front doors. By the look on his face, things had clearly not gone well.

"That damned bastard!" Carver spat out as he walked with breakneck speed down the steep stairs. "And Aveline, too! I thought she was going to put in a good word for me!"

"She said that she did, Carver," Bethany gasped out, trying to keep up with her brother's much longer strides.

"Well it obviously didn't help, did it? Andraste's tits!" he swore, not noticing Bethany's slight blush at his use of language, "I don't see why she got straight into the Guard and not me! I served at Ostagar… doesn't that count for anything?"

At this, he whirled around, "And it really all comes down to you, doesn't it? I would have applied to join the Templar Order, you know; I've even talked to some of the newer recruits. They say it's good pay and honorable work – a damn sight better than running with Athenril, anyway – but no, I can't do that because my sister's a mage."

"Carver," Bethany replied, shocked, "I'm sorry, but please don't take out the Guard Captain's decision on me. And why in the world would you want to join the Templar Order? You know, better than most, what they do to mages! How can some of the things we've heard about be honorable?"

"Just… forget it, Sister," he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I suppose I don't really want to join the Templars. You can't deny that your… abilities… have made things difficult, though."

"No, I can't deny that," said Bethany, a hint of coldness entering her tone, "But we're family, Carver. We've always been there for each other, and I truly think that the best way to get through this is together. Marian always said –"

"Damn it, Bethany!" Carver cut her off, "Who cares anymore what Marian said? She ran off alone, trying to play the hero once again, like she always had to do, and it got her killed."

"Carver," she said, pleading this time, "How can you say that? She died trying to save us! I know that's the only thing she was thinking of, not trying to 'play the hero.' Wouldn't you have done the same thing, were you in her position? Didn't we both try to do exactly that?"

"Fine, fine, let's just drop it," he snapped. "We still need to figure out a few things, though. One, how are we going to make some money in this town, and two, how do you keep out of sight of the Templars?"

Bethany tried hard to ignore his choice of words – namely, "we" for pulling in coin, but only "you" when dealing with the Templars.

"I think I may have a promising lead, actually," she said, desperately trying to get her stubborn brother back on board with her. She pulled a crumpled flyer out of her sleeve, and smoothed it out. "This man, Bartrand, is planning an expedition to the Deep Roads. He's apparently looking to hire some reliable help on. I thought, since we both have fought darkspawn before, we possibly might be better qualified than others."

Carver snorted with laugher, "You in the Deep Roads, Sister? Now that's something I'd like to see"

She colored, slightly. It was no secret in their family that she still had nightmares about those two horrific days of fighting those monsters in their desperate flight from Lothering.

"I do see your point, though" he continued, "It might be worth looking into. Why don't we go speak to him now? It looks like he usually hangs about here in Hightown."

Buoyed by her brother's change of attitude, Bethany agreed. They strode through the clean streets of Hightown, Bethany barely slowing at all as they passed vendors selling the most exquisite things: fabrics of fine cotton, satin, and even silk in every color imaginable, honey and cinnamon roasted almonds that smelled sweeter than anything she had ever tasted, baskets heaping with fruits and breads that her family couldn't even imagine affording right now, and so much more.

Bethany remembered Mother telling her, as a small child, of the luxuries that she had grown up with in Kirkwall. She had hoped that she, too, would be privy to these things, but that hope was a half-forgotten and distant dream now that Gamlen had sold the Amell family estate.

Perhaps someday, if we work hard enough, we can buy back the estate and Mother can have all of these things again. Maybe Carver will be happier, and I'll have a chance at a normal life, too.

Bethany and Carver emerged into a small courtyard, huge stone statues surrounding the area, carved into openings in the walls. A surly looking dwarf was standing at one end, already arguing with a group of humans. They approached, Bethany trying to look as capable as she could.

"Off with you lot! Can't you see I've better things to do than explain again why I'm not letting you come?" the dwarf yelled, then added under his breath, "Sodding bunch of nug humpers…"

Carver strode forward confidently. "I hear you're looking for some people of talent for an upcoming expedition."

"Well, la de da, if it isn't another human child who thinks that just because he has a sword, he can play with the big boys. Get lost, kid."

"But we've got experience that most of the others probably don't," Bethany broke in.

"Oh, and by the Paragons, a slip of a girl, too!" Bartrand mocked. "Why don't you run on back to Mommy and mend that tear you have in your dress. I thought I told you both, get lost and pick on someone else."

"We're serious," said Carver with force, "I guarantee that we are far better than anyone you've already hired on."

"Listen, kid, I've already told you no! Don't make me say it again. I need people who have actually weaned off their mother's teat on this job. Now get lost!"

"But we've fought darkspawn before," Bethany tried again, "How many of your men can say the same? We've even taken down an ogre!"

At this statement, Bartrand's eyes gleamed for a moment, but he shook his head and was back to being unyielding once more. "I've heard enough. Go on now, both of you."

Carver, the angry glint back in his steely blue eyes, turned to his sister and beckoned her to leave with him. "We'll find another option."

"We have to," stressed Bethany, now growing worried, "We need coin… status… something we can hide behind."

"Listen, Bethany, I plan on jumping on the first opportunity I find. It's your Templars we're hiding from, not mine.

Trying desperately not to show her brother how much those words stung, she continued walking. "Maybe someone can talk to Bartrand for us… convince him that we're actually worth his time and money. Wait," she said, stopping under an archway overgrown with vines, "Maybe Gamlen could talk to him."

Carver coughed with doubt. "Gamlen? Are you sure? I doubt that git could identify a darkspawn if it walked up to him and said hello. But, he does seem to know everybody, and I suppose it was him who got us into this whole mess."

Bethany smiled wryly. "Yes, it was. And I'm sure that he would also appreciate a chance to get rid of us for awhile, and not have to worry about my Templars."

Carver stopped in his tracks. "Maker. Bethy, did I sound that bad? Ugh, I'm sounding like him more and more every day."

He may resent me, and he certainly resented Marian, but he does still love us. He's still family. Every so often it shines through.

"It's alright, Carver. I know how hard it is on you and the family. But let's just talk to Gamlen when we get back and see if he can get one of those contacts of his to help us out."

The twins continued to walk through Hightown, turning to go through the market and head back to Lowtown when Bethany stopped.

"You go ahead, Carver, I want to poke around here a bit."

"What? And dream of things that we'll never have?" he scoffed. Then, turning and waving his hand dismissively, "Fine, be my guest, Sister."

As he walked off, Bethany turned and sat on a bench near the entrance to the market, taking in the sounds and smells of the bustle all around her. No, she knew better than to torture herself by actually browsing their wares as if she had the coin to buy anything; what she really needed was some time alone.

I'm free from Athenril, now. Why doesn't that make me feel much better? Carver's right, we need to find some way of either getting in this expedition or another job that pays well. Soon.

She was startled out of her thoughts, though, as something small, cold, and wet pressed against her hand. She looked over to see a small, mabari pup crouched down on the bench next to her, nosing her hand with curiosity. She couldn't help the small smile of delight when she scratched its head and it rolled over, begging for more.

"Well, you're a right little ray of sunshine," said a deep voice, "He seems to have taken a liking to you."

Maker! I should know better than to let my guard down even for a moment.

Bethany turned to face the speaker, sick to her stomach that it would be the heavy plate mail and red insignia of the Templars that came into view. But no, it most certainly wasn't a Templar. In fact, it was a dwarf with straw-colored hair that stood before her, a wry grin on his shaven face.

"Oh! Hello, ser. Your pup is absolutely lovely."

The dwarf waved his hand, as if to clear her words away. "No, no, Sunshine. He's not mine… He's yours. Aren't mabaris the sort of thing you Fereldens go crazy over?"

Bethany just stared. "I'm sorry, but why would you even want to give a puppy to a complete stranger? I'm afraid I don't even know your name."

Laughing as he spoke, he replied, "Why wouldn't you want to give a dog to a complete stranger, is the better question! It certainly makes for a good story, doesn't it? Oh, and the name is Tethras – Varric Tethras – at your service."

A/N: Alright, so here we go… I am really excited that I got such positive feedback about continuing this story, and would like to say special thanks to dominicgrim, ladyluck278, naomis8329, spadequeen, and Jaden Anderson. Additionally, a HUGE thank you to Eve Hawke, who has agreed to do some beta work with me and gives invaluable assistance with plot details. Enjoy :)