WARNING: This story is on indefinite hiatus as of August 16, 2012, for health reasons. New readers, I'm so sorry, but you might not want to bother reading a story that won't be finished for a really long time, if ever. :(

Rated M for violence and adult situations - things like paying rent, cooking dinner, doing the dishes. Oh, and sex. Enjoy!

- Ten years ago

"Latitia?"

A soft cry woke me sometime after midnight, and I slipped out the bed I shared with Rica and padded barefoot to the front door. A glance through the peephole revealed a skinny boy about my age, his black hair standing out in stark contrast to his deathly pale skin, who shivered on our doorstep cradling a badly broken arm. I opened the door at once.

"Sodding arsehole," I muttered in a terse whisper as I helped the boy into a chair. "Did he break anything else or just the arm?"

He sat trembling and silent. I snapped my fingers by his ear. "Leske? You in there?"

The boy blinked and seemed to come to himself again. "Just the arm."

I poured him a glass of water and returned to the cramped bedroom to wake Rica. Rubbing her shoulder, I murmured, "Rica, Leske's got a broken arm."

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"Fine, hang on." She sat up blearily and pulled a skirt on under her nightshirt. I followed her back into our apartment's main room, where Leske waited, his round face drawn and beaded with sweat. I knelt behind his chair and wrapped both arms tightly around him to hold him still. Businesslike as usual, Rica stuck a wooden spoon in his mouth, grabbed his wrist, and yanked on it hard, setting the bone in one practiced jerk. Leske sobbed and, as soon as I released him, bent over and threw up. Rica pressed her lips into a thin line, then crouched with a sigh and started mopping the vomit off the rough stone floor.

"I'll get it," I told her. "Help me wrap his arm."

She nodded, her eyes tired, and picked up an empty dagger sheath to use as a splint, muttering, "Takes a real brave man to beat up a nine-year-old kid. You better stay here tonight, Leske. Don't go back until your pa's sobered up."

We were tying the last knots in the bandage when Mam appeared, swaying, in the bedroom doorway. "You coulda called me," she slurred.

"I didn't want to wake you, Mammy," I lied quickly. "You were sleeping so nice."

"You oughta - you oughta let me do stuff. Yer my kids. 'Is's my house."

"There was no need to bother you, Mother," Rica said calmly. "You go back to bed. Everything's fine."

Mam fell back into her bed, and after we cleaned up, the three of us followed her. Rica and I lay curled on our sides so Leske could lie across the foot of the bed and try to rest until the artificial morning returned to Orzammar.

- Seven years ago

I pulled the brush through Rica's glorious mane, enjoying the sleekness as the brilliant red hair slid through my fingers. "Do you want me to braid it for you?"

She considered it. Braided hair didn't get tangled up so much, but loose hair was sexier. "Let it stay loose this time. But put a ribbon in, OK?"

"So pretty," I murmured, gathering it briefly at the nape of her neck before tying a narrow black ribbon around her head behind her ears to keep it out of her face. "Any makeup today?"

Pain flickered briefly through her luminous green eyes. "No. I'm all out; no money to buy more, either, which is ironic, isn't it? I need to attract more customers so I can afford to buy the stuff that attracts more customers."

"We could use coal."

"Last time I did that it made my eyes all red. Made me look like I was crying."

"You don't need it anyway."

"Thanks, cookie."

I stroked her hair one more time before turning and picking up the hot iron to press her good dress. Linen was cool in the city's sweltering lava heat, but it sure did wrinkle. "Where are you going tonight?"

She paused for too long, and I turned back to direct a piercing stare at her. "You're not going to see Valeska the smith."

"We need the money and he's always up for it."

"I'll go with you."

"No. You're twelve. Go hang out with Leske."

"He's dangerous. I'm going with you."

She whirled to face me. "No. Don't you dare."

I turned back before the iron could scorch, which also hid the suspicious trembling in my lower lip. When I'd finished, she dressed in silence, pulled on her slippers, and left.

I wandered around looking for Leske, but his pa was in the square looking for him, too, so that meant Leske'd gone to ground somewhere. I wished he would stop trying to go home and just stay with us, where we could take care of him.

Eventually I returned home and picked up the torn trousers Seamstress Abra'd left for us to repair. We made a half-penny a patch, a pittance but the work was safe and I could do it at home. I sat on our bed to sew and had gotten halfway done when the front door slammed open and raucous laughter spilled through, interspersed with Rica's coos of faux delight.

Rica thought I was out with Leske, oh no, oh no... I leaped off the bed and hurled myself through the closet door, slamming it behind me - too loud, stupid, I cursed silently as heavy footsteps crossed the bedroom floor. The door flung open and Valeska reached in and dragged me out by the scruff, his sausage-like fingers hot and painfully tight.

"Valeska, honey, she's just a kid - let her go, and come to bed," Rica begged, hanging on his arm.

Laughing, he scooped me up, crushing me to his chest. I gasped as the smith's rock-hard arms pressed the breath from my lungs. "But she's so little and cute! How can I resist?"

- Four years ago

The pounding of drums melded with the stamping of feet and clapping of hands as all of Dust Town celebrated the feast day in honor of Paragon Varen, the first dwarf who dared to eat a nug. The town square had been draped in anything yellow we could find: Clothing, paper, brass cooking pots. Yellow was lucky; it looked like gold. I'd been dancing for an hour already by the time Leske arrived, looking sulky; I threaded my way through the crowd to greet him.

"Why the long face?" I asked, laughing and breathless.

"Bherat chewed me out again," he grumbled, then brightened when he saw the table spread with fresh-roasted nug. "Nothing a good meal won't fix, though."

"That's the Stone's own truth," I agreed, pouring myself a mug of water and draining it as he stuffed an entire nug shank in his mouth at once, stripping the tender meat off the bone with a slurp.

"Hey," he said, as soon as his mouth was clear enough to speak intelligibly. "You're wearing a dress. I haven't seen you wear anything with a skirt in – what, three years? Why the wardrobe update?"

I shuffled my feet, uncomfortable at the attention I was getting tonight, not just from him but from anyone else who knew me enough to know I'd done something out of the ordinary – which, considering the size of Dust Town, was just about everyone.

"I killed my first darkspawn yesterday," I mumbled.

He gaped. "No shit? Really? And you're celebrating by wearing a dress?"

"I'm not celebrating, bonehead," I snapped. "I decided that, if I can cut a glenlock from nose to navel, then by the Stone, I can wear a dress if I want to. I may let my hair grow out, too."

"That's perfectly logical," he nodded.

"Shut up."

"So are you going to wear skirts all the time now, like a normal girl?"

"No. I remembered I hate skirts. They're heavy and they get tangled around my legs."

Just then, Rica twirled by on the arm of a handsome lieutenant of Bherat's, beaming and with her long red hair streaming behind her. Leske groaned, his eyes following her until she disappeared again.

"Come on, Leske, she thinks of you like a little brother and you know it," I chided. "Dance with me instead. I promise not to kick you in the nuts like the last girl you asked out."

"In my defense, I did manage to make her feel so guilty that she bought me dinner," Leske pointed out.

"You're such a ladies' man." A new song started up and I grabbed his hands, dragging him out to dance.

- One year ago

"And the Paragon says, 'Silver? I hardly know 'er!'"

I concluded the joke with an obscene gesture and received a round of guffaws from my drunken audience.

"Tisha, tell 'em - tell 'em the one about piss," Leske hiccuped.

I rolled my eyes but knew which joke he meant. "So a human, an elf, and a dwarf are walking down a trail beside a stream, and they stop to take a piss. After, the human takes out some soap and begins washing his hands. 'We humans have learned how to be clean and hygienic,' he says to the others. The elf begins picking some leaves off the trees and wipes his hands with them. 'We elves use what nature has provided.' The dwarf, meanwhile, has pulled up his trousers and is already on his way down the trail. 'And our ancestors,' he calls back, 'taught us dwarves not to piss on our hands!'"

Hoots of laughter echoed through Tapster's Tavern and someone refilled my mug again. "Speaking of piss, I gotta take a leak," I excused myself, and trotted out back to pour out my unwanted mug in front of a waiting family of feral nugs, who slurped it up with enthusiasm. I smiled as the litter of huge-eyed nuglets lapped eagerly at the ale.

"Waste of ale," came Leske's voice behind me, followed by the sound of falling water.

"Gross, Leske. Piss someplace else. You know I don't drink, and you know why, too."

He tried to button his trousers and dropped them instead. "Whoops."

"That's it, I'm taking you home. You're sloshed." I pushed past him to drop off my mug and say goodbye to the others. Clinging hands entreated me to stay and play some poker, and the opportunity to fleece the drunken amateurs made me promise to return after dropping Leske at home.

He slung an arm around my shoulders as I led him down the crooked stairs to Dust Town. "Is Rica home yet?" he asked hopefully.

"Down, boy. She's not interested."

"You goin' out to the Deep Roads tomorrow?"

"Yep. Got a guy waiting for some fresh frost-rocks, and besides, I have to check the crab traps. Coming?"

"Do I look stupid? No offense," he added quickly, when I threatened to let him fall down the stairs.

I poured him into bed and turned to leave, but found Rica staggering up the walk to our apartment, her face tear-streaked and bruises darkening across one cheek. I felt my jaw tighten but hid my anger as I gently took her arm and helped her to sit in the comfy chair.

"I think we should consider Bherat's offer," I told her quietly, pressing a wet cloth to her cheek. "I don't care if he makes me work for him. Leske already does, he says it's not so bad."

"Let's wait until the bruises heal," she whispered.

- Present Day

Crime Lord Bherat slammed the door behind him, leaving a trembling Rica behind him. I put an arm around her waist.

"You'll make it, Rica. You'll get out of here soon. I'll keep him off your back until you're safe," I promised.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispered.

"Don't be. I'm a big girl." I changed the subject. "You know, when he asked if anyone was interested in you yet, I saw you dodge his question. Come on, out with it: Who is he?"

Rica blushed prettily. It was one of her many talents. The woman looked like an adorable gem when she blushed. I looked like a salami, and tried not to blush in public if I could avoid it.

"I didn't want to say anything in case it's just wishful thinking," she gushed, "but there is someone. He's ... well, he's someone pretty important. Oh, he gave me the most beautiful ruby - look!" She held out an unset stone, glittering like a blood crystal in the palm of her hand. "I'm going to wrap it in wire and wear it around my neck, at least as soon as I can afford some gold wire. I don't want him to see me wearing it in some cheap metal."

"That's fantastic! It looks beautiful with your hair," I encouraged her. "So when did you see him? What did you wear? Come on, I want details!"

But before she could answer, I heard Leske hammer on the door. "Hurry up, Latitia!" he bellowed.

"I have to go," I excused myself. "I'll see if I can 'acquire' some wire for you while I'm out."

"Don't get caught," she said wearily.

"Caught? Me? Doing what? I'm a fine and honorable citizen, and I have no idea what you're talking about," I laughed, taking up my daggers and tugging a protective leather vest over my head.

Leske's summons meant Bherat had a job for us. Working for Bherat was a lot safer than treasure hunting in the darkspawn-infested Deep Roads, or at least less likely to be fatal, and he'd demanded my service as part of the payment for Rica's education. The master plan involved the lovely Rica attracting the attentions of a wealthy dwarf and getting knocked up with a boy - a girl would be useless, but if she had a boy, the dwindling noble caste would embrace him as a proper heir and also allow her to move in with them as his mother.

There had never been any question about which of us girls would get this chance. Rica was a rare statuesque beauty, tall and graceful, with a bosom that could reduce married men to tears and, as Leske put it, "an ass that won't quit." Myself, well, we'd had different fathers and little in common by way of looks. I kept my mousy brown hair cut in a functional bob, and while I shared her height and grace, I had none of her figure. I liked to call myself 'athletic,' but Leske called me a scrawny twig. I knew I was cute, and with the right attitude I could sometimes be sexy, but I would never be beautiful.

Before I left, I stopped to check on Mam. This morning, the woman who'd birthed me was draped over a chair in front of a table covered in empty bottles. I stared for a moment, and she blinked blearily back at me. Finally I sighed in disgust and turned to go.

"Try to dry out before I get home," I called over my shoulder, and closed the door before a bottle shattered against it.

Leske waited for me on the stairs in front of my home. Seeing the look on my face, he just settled in beside me as we walked across the eternal bonfire in the Dust Town square that was part cookfire, part garbage disposal, and occasional funeral pyre.

"I thank the ancestors every day that Rica is off the streets before some duster knocks her up," I burst out finally. "And also that I can finally sleep in my own home instead of being sexiled every other night because she's got a customer too ashamed to bring her back to his place. Bherat is a toad, and I hate being beholden to him, but if he gets her out of here I will gladly call him Boss forever."

Leske gave me a commiserating glance and I knew he was thinking of the several occasions when an early customer had arrived while Leske was over, and we'd had to make ourselves scarce. At first, that had meant we just went to his place, but after his pa had broken his arm one time too many, Leske had finally stopped going home. Rica'd found herself with another pair of big, hopeful eyes hanging around, attached to a hungry mouth and sticky fingers and yet another body trying to share the single bedroom.

We arrived at Bherat's front, and I shook myself physically, hoping to shed the memories as well. Talking to Bherat needed all my attention.

"Well, well, if it isn't our little dream team," he drawled. "Remind me, which of you's the girl again?"

I forced a smile. "That one," I said, pointing at Bherat. The man often enjoyed it when the people he pushed, pushed back - but not too much.

I'd guessed right, and he laughed his huge belly laugh. "You got a lotta mouth on you, beanpole. Tell me, you got enough room in that mouth for me? Oh, I forgot, that's your sister's job."

Wow. OK, that one I couldn't roll with. With a quick look at my tightening jaw, Leske jumped in. "So, Boss, you wanted to see us? I assume it wasn't just for the pleasure of our company."

"Yeah, if I'd wanted pleasure, I'd have called Rica," he leered, but when I didn't react, he lost interest in baiting me and got down to business. "The warrior caste is hosting a Proving this afternoon to honor a guest from the surface, some fancy Gray Warden. I've got a lotta money riding on a long shot called Everd, and I want you to make sure he wins at least the first round."

"How?" I asked.

"I've got a drug, here, for you to slip into his opponent's water right before the match," he explained, holding up a small earthenware bottle. "It'll slow him down, not enough so anyone will notice, but enough to give Everd the edge he needs. I got you a pass so you can go into the Proving Grounds; it's a work order what says you're supposed to clean out the latrines. Go now and find out who his opponent will be - you'll have to use your famous wit to find that out, as they usually keeps that secret until the moment of the fight."

We nodded, and I took the bottle and turned to leave. As I did so, though, Bherat caught my arm in a viselike grip.

"When I say I have money on this, I'm not talking about some pittance, like the value of your life. If I don't see Everd's name on the winner's list, I better not see you or your sister ever again," he growled, giving my arm a final, painful wrench before shoving me out the door.