Rose of Ferelden

Late summer blazed with an ill temper that was a perfect match to Hawke's bored, arrogant stride through the streets of Lothering. Dawn sent her every job that came up in the area but it wasn't enough to keep her busy. She was grateful when she was requested back in Denerim for a special assignment. Dawn greeted her with a scowl. "Love, I need you to go Val Royeaux." Hawke arched a brow at that and Dawn waved it off. "I know, we don't cross borders but that little bitch Iris stole from me."

Hawke' eyes widened in shock. Iris had been set to inherit the business from Dawn, she had never been anything but the most perfect of thieves. "What did she take?"

"Gold." She cackled. "What else? No, it's more than that. She betrayed us and tried to start her own group, fed a list of names to the guard captain. Half of my people were arrested." Her voice softened. "Ember and Thorn didn’t make it."

Hawke sighed, sending a quiet wish to their gods. She had worked with the elven twins a few times; they had been good and were good people as well. But she could well imagine what happened when the guard beat on their door to arrest them, especially if Iris had told them that Ember was a mage. She traced the wood grain of Dawn’s work table. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t care. If you get the gold back, good. If you don’t, just make sure she understands she did wrong.” She stared at the far wall, her decision weighing on her. “Kill her for the twins, for the people I can’t get out of jail who are facing execution. She never wanted the black book but now she can’t escape it.” Hawke nodded and stood. Dawn snatched her arm and tapped the tattoo on her wrist. “No risk to yourself, Bard’s Daughter. If you can’t get her, you fly free. She’s not worth your life.”

“Understood.” A slow smile lit her face. “She should have known you would send me and no one has escaped me yet. Hawks are predators for a reason.”

Dawn chuckled darkly. “You need to use a different name, love. Spend some time terrorizing Orlais as payment.”

A string of thefts ran from Denerim to Gherlen’s Pass, leaving guards in a fit of panic every time they saw a red rose before the thefts mysteriously stopped.  Another rose was found in Lydes and a slew appeared in Val Royeaux. A tinkle of laughter was heard one evening as a boutique owner cursed at his empty till, the brilliant red rose resting across the top. He tore at his hair. “Go back to the void that birthed you, demon!”

The laugh came again from his open door. “Ferelden will take me back when I’m ready.” The hooded and masked woman disappeared into the night as he yelled for the guards. The Rose of Ferelden was plastered on every street corner by the end of the week.

Iris hadn’t been difficult to find, but she had entrenched herself with the local thieves. Hawke’s string of petty thievery was as much to give herself something to do as it was to lure her out. Finally, she got word of a mark Iris was taking and she let herself in silently. Iris was no longer a thief; the easy pickings of the empire’s capital had made her lazy. Hawke wrapped the long ponytail around her fist and yanked the woman’s head back before pressing a blade to her throat. “Tsk, tsk, love. To think you almost took over our guild.”

“Hawke.” She swallowed. “Or should I call you Rose?”

“The Rose of Ferelden, thank you.” She chuckled. “Master thieves have titles.”

“We both know you aren’t here to steal anything. Let’s make a deal.” She tested her grip and Hawke tightened it painfully. “We could be a profitable team, you and I.”

“Perhaps. You have a nasty habit of betraying partners.”

Iris laughed. “Well, can you blame me? A girl has to move up in the world and Ferelden is small fish. It was nothing personal.”

Hawke spun her around and slammed her into the wall, sinking the dagger in to the hilt in her stomach. She leaned in close as Iris gasped. “You see, love, it was personal. For Ember. For Thorn. For the ones you sent to the hangman’s noose.” She twisted it deeper. “It was very personal, which is why I didn’t just poison you and be done with it.” She whispered in her ear. “I did use a gold dagger though, since gold is all you care about.”

She ripped it free and watched Iris slump to the floor her eyes wide with horror before they faded into emptiness. Hawke cleaned her blade on the bedspread and left for Ferelden that night by ship.