You know what's good for cheering me up?

[sagacious_rage]

Born a Duster, joined to the Wardens, befriended the Qunari, defeated the Crows, fell in love with a prince, saved countless elves and some mages, won two Provings, chose the ruler of both men and dwarves, killed three dragons and two paragons, bested the Hero of River Dane, ended a Blight, defeated the Architect, and died a hero.

Title: The Amazing Adventures of Pilar Brosca: Dwarf of Orzammar; Chapter 2: You and Me
Rating: This chapter, T for violence
Fic Summary: A series of vignettes about pivotal moments in the life of Pilar Brosca. Updated occasionally and out of chronological order.
Chapter Summary: How Pilar and Leske came to be employed by the Carta.
Word Count: 1894




You and Me

Leske was her salroka. And Pilar was his. They had been best friends since they were both shin-kickers, meeting up on the street during evenings when Pilar was avoiding her mam and Leske was looking for his da.

Most other Dusters ignored them, so long as they made themselves useful when they were wanted and made themselves scarce when they weren't. Like all the other children.

And so they passed their time, stealing when they were bored (which was often) or hungry (which was all the time), playing Ogres and Legionnaires when the other children would allow them to join in and patching each other up when they got scraped and bruised.

Then things started changing. Pilar's shirts didn't fit so easy across her chest, and she felt men's eyes on her when she wrestled with Leske. Soon after she started feeling Leske's eyes (among other things) on her and then she decided that maybe they shouldn't wrestle anymore. For his part, Leske grew broad-shouldered and thick-kneed and Pilar started noticing that his swagger made her feel things in the pit of her belly and she wasn't sure what to do about it. So she took her frustrations out by throwing little pebbles at his head when he wasn't looking.

This habit was what led to her troubles. She was out on the street one morning, early enough that most of the men weren't up yet. Without bothering to make sure that she bent her knees and ducked her hips and crouched in such a way as to avoid notice, she wandered the alleyways of Dust Town, picking up pebbles as she went.

“Not as pretty,” a rough voice said behind her, startling her so much she dropped half the pebbles she had collected. “But you know what they say, all nugs look grey in the dark.”

She spun around to see a pair of Carta thugs leering at her. “You're Rica's sister, right?” the bearded one asked, a strange gleam in his eye.

“Who wants to know?” She grasped her remaining pebbles tightly and tensed the muscles in her legs.

“A couple of her biggest fans,” the ugly one laughed. “Only we're not important enough to get a crack at her, so we'll have to try you and imagine what it's like.”

“So go ahead.” She stuck her chin out. “Try me.”

They exchanged glances and laughed, a cruel laughter that sent chills down Pilar's spine. The bearded one stretched casually, and then struck fast as a deep stalker to crack a fist on her jaw.

She anticipated the blow, ducked and whipped her pebbles at the ugly one's eyes. While he was yelping and clawing at his face, the bearded one lurched for her. She dove for his knees, rolling as he collapsed awkwardly and tossing up a cloud of dust. He grabbed for her ankles and she kicked more dust in his eyes, quickly grabbing his dagger out of his belt. He cursed when he saw her with the blade, hurtling himself at her before he had fully found his feet again. He collided roughly with her, slamming her to the ground. By this time the ugly one had blinked the blood out of at least one of his eyes, and lunged at her as well. She stuck the dagger under his ribs, angling up to hit his heart. He made a horrible gurgling sound and fell on the bearded one, coughing up a froth of blood.

She tried to scramble away but the bearded one was too fast. He jumped at her again, catching her under him and knocking the breath out of her chest. She grabbed a fist-sized stone and cracked him across the temple, hitting him so hard his skull split and blood sprayed across her face.

His brains boiled out of the side of his head and he dropped like a sack of dung. Pilar kicked him in the face one more time just to be sure and then bolted for home.

~*~

By the time Leske came looking for her, she had washed and changed and choked down a bit of lichen bread and generally pulled herself together enough to pretend like nothing had happened. “Look at you,” she said as she grabbed a comb from her lockbox. “Your braids are all loose.”

Leske shrugged and grinned. “What can I say? The ladies like to pull on them.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Do they? Well come out on the stoop and I'll tighten them back up again.”

“What would I do without you, salroka?” Leske sighed contentedly, settling down on the stoop in front of her as she sat with her knees on either side of his shoulders.

She snorted a laugh as she started combing out his braids. “You'd have to settle for a lesser-quality tumble if I wasn't around to pretty you up, that's sure as stone.”

He hissed as she yanked through a particularly tight knot. “Did you get in a fight without me?” he asked, sounding hurt.

“No, of course not,” she lied as easy as breathing.

“Oh I see how it is. You won't give your ol' buddy Leske the time of day but here you are letting some other Duster tumble you.” He traced the fresh scrapes and bruises on her knees and calves with his forefinger, evidence that most others wouldn't have noticed.

She laughed again, and started spinning a tale of her high-born lover who was going to plant a son in her belly and get her out of Dust Town when a shadow fell across Leske's scalp. “You mind?” she said without looking up. “You're in my light.”

“And you're messing in my boss' business,” a harsh-voiced woman drawled.

Leske turned and looked at Pilar, and looking so profoundly dumbstruck that Pilar couldn't help but laugh. “Us? What's your boss' business then?” Pilar asked, pushing Leske's head forward without looking up. “Stoop sitting? Maybe he has a thriving business in pick pocketing beggars?”

The woman slapped Pilar on the ear, and she yelped. The force of the blow and the sudden sharp pain on her eardrum sent her reeling. “Talk like that will land you an early end in a ditch. The boss wants to talk to you two sorry excuses for dwarflesh, so I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head while we all go and have a nice little chat with Beraht.”

~*~

Pilar and Leske stood together, both trying to make themselves more unassuming and unimportant than the other. It was a lost cause though, as the only people in the grand main room of the Carta hideout were them, some guards, the harsh-voiced woman, and Beraht.

The biggest Carta boss in Dust Town.

Beraht sat, stroking his beard and glaring at them over the bridge of his bulbous nose. “You've been busy.”

Pilar glanced at Leske and caught his eye. She kept her mouth shut long enough that he felt pressured to pipe up. “I... all due respect but we haven't been busy with anything. Ever.”

Beraht spat. “That's what the respect of Dusters like you is worth.” He scoffed. “And I don't like liars. So one of you better figure out how to explain this or you'll both be joining them.” He nodded at a pair of guards to his right, who dragged in the stiff and battered bodies of the two thugs who had attacked Pilar that morning.

She took a deep breath and held it, trying to settle her stomach as it lurched its revulsion at both the situation and the ripe bodies. Leske looked absolutely ashen.

“I'm waiting,” Beraht said in a chillingly calm tone as he tested the edge of his dagger on his thumb.

“It was me,” Pilar blurted out. “I did it.”

“No,” Leske jumped in. “I did, not her.”

“What are you doing, you sodding nuglicker--” Pilar shoulted.

“You keep your dusty mouth shut, tramp,” Leske snarled. “You want the one that did it? It was me.”

“Don't listen to him! He's a stone-lost liar.” Pilar shoved him away. “I'm the one that did it. They found me on the street this morning and said they wanted to try me so I told them to and--”

“Shut it! Both of you!” Beraht roared, burying the tip of his dagger several inches deep in the arm of his chair. “To be honest? I don't give a flea's fart which one of you actually did it. But I lost two thugs today and somebody saw you--” He pointed a gnarled finger at Pilar, “running away from the bodies. So I figure, what's the best way to replace a couple of worthless bodies? Hire the worthless bodies that killed them. And since it was both of you, you both got work. Got it?”

Pilar's mouth went dry and she clenched her fists. “Got it,” she said in unison with Leske.

“Good. Jarvia?” He turned to the harsh-voiced woman.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

“I'm sick of looking at these two idiots. Take them to the common room and get them kitted out. You can decide what their duties are for the day.”

~*~

“Alright, you two midden munchers. We got a stall keeper over in the Market District who hasn't been paying his dues. I need you to go over there and either take it out of his pocket or take it out of his hide.” She smacked Leske across the face, yanking his attention back to her. “Don't kill him. Dead men aren't profitable. And if he actually does pay up, don't get any ideas. The likes of you are replaceable.”

Pilar and Leske nodded and made their way towards the gate. Pilar managed to control herself until she heard the big stone door slam shut behind them before dashing off to vomit in a gutter. “You are the dumbest Duster around,” she said, wiping her mouth as Leske pulled her hair back. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking it would be real boring around here without you. So whatever trouble you got yourself in, I wanted to tag along.” He handed her a canteen of water.

She rinsed her mouth and spat in the gutter. “You are the best salroka a girl ever had. Even if you are the dumbest.”

He grinned, though not as wide as normal. The welt Jarvia had given him had already begun to darken. “Come on, let's get on with it.”

She shook off her nausea and guilt. “You know, you should really grow a beard. Cover up all those bruises from the ladies. Maybe even cushion your face enough so you wouldn't bruise in the first place.”

He laughed and clapped her on the back. “Yeah, not a bad plan. You should think about it, too. A nice thick beard would help cushion my eyes from looking at your ugly mug all day.”

And so, laughing and joking, they made their way to the Market District. As if nothing had changed.


Mods, could I get a tag for Leske?