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[thereneverwas]

[For correspondence, private scenes, and anthrax.]

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[cozen]

My mum says you’re my father.

[ With earnest patience born of being a little too young for a teenager’s attitude. She looks him over. There’s a little bit of skepticism to her face—a bit of him?—but mostly interest. Someone looking for a resemblance would be able to claim to see one. ]

She called you a lot of other things, too, but I’m not supposed to say them.

[thereneverwas]

[Shit. Fuck. Run. Throw her in the harbor? No, that wouldn't do, he couldn't,]

Which one-- er, [maybe she just wants money?]

--what's your mum's name? [Maker, it could be anyone.]

[cozen]

Lorna.

[ Another itchy nose wiggle. ]

She's working, but—I can take you to see her if you want. Maybe she's wrong.

[thereneverwas]

[He's still wracking his brain for a 'Lorna' when the girl speaks again, and Barrow goes very still, furrowing his brow at her.]

Working?

[He blinks rapidly.]

She's here?

[cozen]

[ Anne shakes her head, taking here to mean right here, and points off toward the rest of the city. ]

She’s a laundress.

[thereneverwas]

[Something is amiss.]

And how long have you two been living here in Kirkwall, Anne?

[cozen]

[ A shrug, a screwed-up thinking face, and, ]

Five years? I was seven.

[thereneverwas]

And where'd you come from before that?

[He starts lighting up a cigarette.]

[cozen]

[ She wrinkles her nose in distaste at the cigarette. Or at the question. Or both. ]

I remember Highever and Amaranthine. I don’t know. We traveled a lot.

[ Her arms cross. The slightest glimmer of an attitude. ]

Where’d you come from?

[thereneverwas]

Ferelden, [spoken cagily, one arm crossing under the other as he squints down at the girl.]

Your mum always been a laundress?

[cozen]

[ She squints back at him. ]

No.

[thereneverwas]

[sqqquuint.]

No? What'd she do before?

[cozen]

[ A sqqquuint back, and a stubborn little chin lift. ]

This and that.

[thereneverwas]

Yeh?

[He tilts his own chin up, exhaling a puff of smoke.]

What's her family name?

[cozen]

[ She scoffs a little. ]

We aren't that fancy.

[thereneverwas]

[There it is. Barrow smirks.]

So whaddyou want, money?

[The question comes out as a grumble, not especially threatening.]

Who told you I had any?

[cozen]

[ She doesn't know she's been had. Her bottom lip comes out, just a little, as if she's hurt but trying not to show it. ]

I don't want your money. I only wanted to meet you.

[thereneverwas]

No no, none of that.

[He shakes his head fondly, digging into his coin pouch.]

You had me going for a moment there, kid. Take this, go on and get yourself a better scam.

[He approaches her to offer out what equates to around half a day's wage in coins.]

[cozen]

[ She considers him, considers the coins, and snatches them out of his hand. ]

How long did I have you going? You think five minutes?

[thereneverwas]

[He scoffs.]

If that. But.

[He leans down a little closer.]

I'll double that if you tell me who put you up to it.

[cozen]

[ She has to count the coins first, comparing what she’s being offered to what she stands to be paid if she keeps her mouth shut, but then she says, ]

Him.

[ And turns to point down the docks, a few vacant slips away, where Bastien is leaning on a wall. Looking at the sea, mostly, but his peripheral vision includes them enough for her point to make him turn and open his mouth in feigned outrage and shock. ]

[thereneverwas]

Aaahh.

[A knowing sound, and Barrow tips the rest of the coins into the girl's hand.]

Good kid. If your mum's real, buy her something nice.

[Then, he starts off toward the perpetrator. He looks friendly enough, but that in itself can be a warning sign.]

[cozen]

[ Anne, if that is her real name, does not stick around to find out if she’s in trouble—which is her loss, as Bastien would have paid her anyway, snitch or not.

He waits for Barrow where he’s been standing, looking utterly unafraid and unapologetic. ]

[thereneverwas]

[Stopping a few feet away from Bastien, Barrow removes his cigarette from his mouth long enough to ash it.
He's still smiling.]

A little below the belt, mate, don't you think?

[cozen]

[ Heh. ]

I’m Orlesian. We have no sense of proportion when it comes to revenge.