Alistair was not comfortable.

He had heard of the alienages in the cities, but he had never been inside of one before. It was... not what he was expecting.

He hadn't really known what to expect, if he was being perfectly honest. He had been told what the village would entail, but even so, he was not prepared. The buildings were shabby and falling apart, it stank of filth and old alcohol, and the few people... elves that he saw were too skinny and wearing torn and ratty clothes. He almost regret his decision to accompany his commander.

Alistair had been surprised when Duncan requested that Alistair escort him to Denerim to see a potential new recruit. He had only been a Grey Warden for a few months and was still ranked below the vast majority of the Wardens. Still, Alistair was always willing to prove himself and his worth. He knew Duncan saw something in him that no one else really did, including Alistair himself. He was grateful for being able to escape his previously life and was willing to do nearly anything Duncan asked of him.

He was regretting that sentimental feeling now.

The elves that were meandering near the front gate quickly dispersed at the sight of the two humans, looking equal parts fearful and reproachful. Duncan had mentioned that they were meeting an old friend of his, though it was difficult to imagine any of the villagers seeming particularly friendly to them. Alistair could hardly wonder why, though he wished he could show these people that they were not here to terrorize them.

The Wardens had barely made their way through the front gate when they were approached by a tiny female elf. "And what do you want?" she cried, angrily reaching for her blades. She was dressed in old leather armor, seemingly made for a human child that was thrown out once it became too small. She was a dual-wielder, sporting two blades that, though old, looked well taken care of and meticulously cleaned.

Alistair's hand automatically reached for the hilt of his sword in defense, but Duncan raised his hand to signal him to pause. "We mean you no harm, child. We are here to visit an old friend."

The tiny elf sneered at his remark. "'Visit an old friend?' Here to cause trouble, more likely. Leave, now, shem. Just because you're human doesn't mean you're any better than us. Don't make me use these blades on you. I know how to use them, honest." Alistair glanced at Duncan, but did not move, waiting for his leader to decide what to do. Duncan was staring passively at the girl, almost as if he were waiting for her to make the next move. Alistair saw fear flicker through the girl's eyes, but she held her ground. She shifted, bringing her blades up in a defensive stance, when a voice called out from behind her.

"Arya!"

The girl took a step backwards and turned her head slightly towards the voice acknowledging that she heard, but did not take her eyes off Duncan. The older Warden looked towards the the elf that was quickly approaching them. He was an elder elf, dressed in finer robes than those around him, though not by much. He hurried up the hill towards the gate, glaring at the young elf that stood before them. Without warning, the girl sheathed her blades and took a step back, angrily looking at the ground.

"Arya, that is no way to treat my guests. The man did not lie, he is an old friend who is indeed visiting." Arya would not look up at neither her elder or the Wardens. She pursed her lips together, as if trying very hard to not say anything. Finally, without raising her eyes, she muttered a terse apology, though Alistair could not tell if it was towards them or the elder.

The older elf seemed to be fighting a smile, sharing a secret, amused look with Duncan. "I think it's time you find your cousin, Soris. Make sure he's prepared for his wedding. Calm his nerves if you have to, but quietly. I think we already had enough excitement today without the wedding and celebration tonight."

Arya glanced up at the elf with an unreadable expression, then turned on her heel and left without so much as a backwards glance to the two men she had threatened. Both Duncan and the elf shared a chuckle, but Alistair could not seem to fathom what could be funny.

"Valendrian, my friend, it has been a long time," Duncan smiled at the elf.

Valendrian returned his smile in greeting. "It has, Duncan. Two decades or so? Give or take a few months. Forgive the rude introduction; humans have already given us trouble today. Everyone is on guard."

"No need to apologize," Duncan said. "What happened today that's put more fear in your people?"

Valendrian let out a long sigh. Alistair could tell by the wrinkled lines by his eyes, the way he wrung his hands, this man had seen more than his fair share. "A local lord came down earlier this morning to disrupt the festivities. There is to be a wedding tonight, and the sister of the bridegroom was not too pleased to have this day interrupted by the shem lords that wreak havoc us continually." Valendrian suddenly blushed scarlet, looking abashed. "My apologies, my friend. I have been spending too much time with the youngsters who commonly use that word. Unfortunately, they've yet to meet many humans that do not warrant that name."

Duncan nodded, smiling sadly. "No harm, my friend. What did this young lady do?"

"She bashed a vase over the lord's head. He and his friends were not too pleased. They dragged him away out of the alienage, but I fear we have not seen the last of them."

"Sister of the bridegroom? That wouldn't happen to be…"

"No, no, no," Valendrian said, chuckling as he shook his head. "Arya's cousin, Shianni. She admires Arya for her courage and skill. She is hot-headed and temperamental, but has a good heart. Just like her cousin." Valendrian's eyes sparkled. "This is why you are here, I believe? You wish to inquire about Arya."

After being threatened upon entrance, Alistair almost forgot why they were there in the first place. Oh, right. We're recruiting. Please don't let it be…

"Yes."

Alistair bit back a sigh. It should have been obvious from the moment she had approached them. None of the other elves showed the slightest interest in standing up against them; they were more interested in seeking shelter for themselves. Still, the elf girl…Arya, was small and seemingly untrained. Her stance was wrong: Alistair could have easily pushed her over with minimal effort. While she obviously cared for her blades, they were low quality, barely better than wooden training swords. And she just seemed too stubborn for her own good, attempting to challenge two men fully armed and armored men, especially when Duncan was easily twice her size. Alistair believed he would have to spend more time guarding and protecting her than actually fighting to win.

"She's grown quite a lot since I last saw her," Duncan continued. Alistair glanced at him curiously.

"Yes, just an infant in her mother's arms when you last came," Valendrian agreed. "Only then were you trying to recruit her mother."

Duncan smiled at the memory and turned to Alistair. "Rumors of Adaia's courage and fighting capabilities were spread throughout Denerim. The Grey Wardens were even less in numbers and less diversified back then, so we were desperate to recruit nearly anyone who could properly hold a sword."

"She had once confided in me that she longed for adventures and heroism," continued Valendrian. "A life of a Grey Warden would have suited her well."

"But she turned down your offer of recruitment?" Alistair asked, confused.

"I never offered it to her," Duncan quietly explained. "By the time I arrived in Denerim to attempt to recruit her, she had married and had a daughter." Duncan's eyes sparkled with… was it regret? Alistair wondered. "There are few who willingly join our ranks when other options exist. The temptation would have been there for her. I worried that if she had taken it, she would have left a child behind, motherless. I worried that if she didn't take it, her life would have been full of 'what ifs' and regrets. Perhaps she would have grown to resent her husband and child for a life she could have had. Perhaps she would have done nothing of the sort, and would have carried on with her life as if I had never entered it. I did not wish to take that chance." He turned to the elder. "Tell me of Arya."

Valendrian gave a bitter smile. "You've met her already. I'd say she's fairly transparent, just from your first encounter with her. She has skill that only could have come from her mother, but she is untrained. Still, that does not stop her from fighting with the local boys and, occasionally, humans up in the city. She has a reputation both here and in Denerim for causing trouble, usually because she does not know when to hold her tongue. She is stubborn, ill-tempered, and quick to take offense, but is deeply loyal and kind. To be able to train her, you must first make her respect you. That truly can only be done by respecting her. You will find yourself short with her; nearly everyone does. Still, she has a yearning to learn and to prove herself. With patience, she would make a fine Grey Warden." The elder's eyes sparkled while speaking of her. It was obvious that he was fond of Arya. "She is a unique one, Duncan, in more ways than one."

Duncan raised his eyebrow and the mysterious comment, but did not push him further. Alistair wanted to ask what he meant by that, but Duncan pushed on. "She is of marriageable age. Have you or her father found a suitable match for her?"

Valendrian chuckled in response. "We've found her several suitors, though none of them were deemed suitable by Arya. She can be quite frightening to an elf that has learned naught but to obey with her swords and temper. Her cousin Soris is to be married today and his bride has brought along her brother. We were hoping to make a match between the two of them, but Arya does not seem to have an interest in anyone who does not have an interest in swords." His face suddenly turned serious. "You would not be taking her away from a life she wants, Duncan; in fact, much like her mother, she dreams of leaving her for greater things. I do, however, fear for her father. He had fallen in love with Adaia's spirit, but does not seem to want his daughter to share that quality." He sighed, wringing his hands worriedly. "He truly wants what is best for his daughter, but he wants a normal life as well. He wants a son through her marriage and grandchildren. He's grown weary of the negative attention Arya tends to bring."

The conversation took pause as the three looked over the alienage. Seeing their elder speaking to the two humans seemed to relax the elves, and they began to continue along their day as normal. A stage was being set up at the bottom of the hill for the wedding ceremony, and there was an air of cheerfulness and celebration that had been lacking when the Grey Wardens first made their way in.

The elder turned back to the Wardens. "You and your companion are more than welcome to participate in tonight's festivities. I ask that you wait to speak to Arya tomorrow, after her cousin marries. I will make sure she acts a bit more… appropriately towards you."

Duncan smiled and nodded. "I look forward to that conversation. Alistair and I are honored to be invited, and we thank you for your hospitality." Valendrian nodded and made his way down the hill.

"You want to make her a Grey Warden?" The words left Alistair's mouth before he even realized it. Duncan turned and raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean… an enemy could just squish her."

The commander chuckled at Alistair. "Never underestimate someone based on a first impression, Alistair. I have no doubt that she has raw talent that has never been trained properly. I would assume what she lacks in strength she makes up for in speed. A dual-wielder must be quick to survive. Her mother must have given her some basic training when she was alive. We will test her tomorrow to see what she does know, but I agree with Valendrian; she will make a fine Grey Warden."

The alienage was in chaos. The bride and her bridesmaids had been carried off the stage by the local lord and his men and kidnapped to the lord's estate. Even the Revered Mother could do nothing to save them. Alistair had begun to push his way through the crowd to defend the elves, but Duncan held him back.

"As difficult as this is, we cannot get involved. Grey Wardens cannot meddle in the politics of Ferelden." Alistair wanted to argue that this wasn't about politics; that these women's lives were at stake. But he stayed by his commander's side, fighting the urge to get involved.

Duncan now stood alongside the elder Valendrian, offering what support he could as Soris frantically paced in front of them. The bride's brother, named Nelaros, as Alistair had learned, also stood to the side, watching Soris walk back and forth. Cyrion, Arya's father and uncle of Shianni, sat in the corner, staring with unseeing eyes at the ground.

"We must do something!" cried Soris for the umpteenth time.

"Nephew, there is nothing you can do," Cyrion muttered quietly. He glanced up and Soris, unshed tears in his eyes. "There is nothing any of us can do but wait, and pray that they return to us safe."

"We could go after them." Nelaros had a surprisingly soft voice. He looked to Soris who had stopped his pacing to stare at him. "If we do not wish to wait, which I don't, then we need to take action. We need to get into the castle and rescue them."

"And how do you suppose you'll do that?" Cyrion snapped. "Just knock on the front door and ask to be let in? Then you can ask to escort the women home?" Cyrion collapsed back into his chair, his head in his hands.

"There are back entrances. Servants' entrances," Soris said. The two brother-in-laws stared at each other, having an unspoken conversation. "But how? Then what?"

Nelaros looked down at the floor, puzzled as if he were trying to figure out a riddle. "Can you fight?" he uttered at last.

Soris paled and ran a frantic hand through his hair. "Fight? That was always Arya. I'm not terrible with a bow… but where are we going to get these weapons? Arya's swords and my bow are no match for the armor those guards will have."

The pair fell silent again as hope again disappeared from the room. Duncan then took a step forward, placing his longsword on the table, followed by his bow and quiver full of arrows, and finally a long sharpened dagger. "I hope you will return these to me. I would hate to see them fall into the hands of undeserving men."

Both Soris and Nelaros stared at Duncan, heavily surprised, and Alistair could feel his own mouth dropping with shock. Nelaros made the first move, gently picking up the longsword and testing its weight.

"We will return these to you, sir, as well as bring back the women. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you." He turned to Soris and offered the bow and quiver. Shaking, Soris accepted them, then sheathed the dagger into his belt. Quickly, the two left, leaving Valendrian and Cyrion in a quiet shock.

"What happened to not getting involved?" muttered Alistair in Duncan's direction.

Duncan smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "We do what we need to do. Remember that, Alistair."

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when the party returned. Alistair had nodded off in the corner of the house and awoke to find his commander staring at the gates. Getting up to join him, he was surprised to see a group of elves returning. Hurriedly, they made their way towards the gate to meet them. By the time they reached the group, Valendrian was already there, assessing the situation.

The first thing Alistair noticed was that Arya was covered in a considerable amount of blood. Soris, who stood alongside her carrying his sister, was also filthy, though not quite as badly as his cousin. Nelaros was missing, as was one of the bridesmaids.

"Nelaros is dead," Arya was saying as Duncan and Alistair reached them. "So is Nola. They killed her when she begged for our lives." She tried to wipe the blood from her face but only smeared it in the process. "Vaughn is dead too, along with a handful of his cronies. He told us he'd pay us to leave Denerim and never come back. I ended that conversation with a knife through his heart."

Alistair looked at the elf that stood before him. Gone was the idea that she could not protect herself. Her face, arms, legs, torso, everywhere, were covered in blood. She obviously had no fear with close contact fighting. It was also clear that she took the brunt of the hand-to-hand fighting while her cousin aimed from afar. At that moment, she was a frightening thing to look at.

Valendrian sighed and wrung his hands worriedly. "Ladies, please accompany Shianni home. Find the healer to tend to her at once. I will be along shortly." The women made to move, wrapping their arms around Shianni and muttering words of comfort. Alistair gulped, only imagining what she was put through.

Neither Arya nor Soris made any move to leave. Soris was looking abashed at his feet, but Arya stood tall, giving Valendrian a hard look.

"The guards will be arriving soon. They will want to arrest the perpetrator. You must answer to your crimes, as justified as they may be." He shared a long look with Arya, and Alistair had the feeling that he was missing something entirely.

Squaring her shoulders, Arya turned to her cousin. "Soris, go. Wash up and get into bed. I am responsible for this."

Soris' eyes widened with disbelief, as did Alistair's. Duncan remained cool and calm, seemingly unfazed by her statement, as if he almost expected it of her. "Arya, no. No. It was my plan with Nelaros. I am just as responsible, if not more, than you are for what happened. I will not let you take all the blame for this."

"Soris, go. It's completely needless for both of us to take the blame. Leave. I will handle this."

"No, Arya…"

"Soris, please." She grabbed her cousin's shoulders, her eyes sparkling with emotion for the first time that Alistair saw. "You fiancé was saved. You still have the opportunity to marry and have children and have that life you always wanted!" She gently brought her hand up to Soris's face to wipe away a tear that fell. "That life was never for me. I was never destined for that life, you know that. You still have that chance. Take it."

Soris wrapped his arms around his cousin, and Alistair swore he heard her bite back a sob. Quickly, Soris let her go and ran back to his house, never once looking back.

Arya breathed heavily for a moment, watching her cousin retreat. She turned back to Alistair and unsheathed the longsword and dagger. "Soris mentioned you gave these to them. Thank you," she said, not looking at Duncan as she handed the bloody weapons back. Duncan made no comment as he accepted them back. She then turned to Valendrian, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath. "I do not regret what I did. I will accept the consequences of my actions."

Valendrian smiled a small, sad smile. "I know, my child."

There was nothing left to say. Nor was there any more time to say it. Guards from the city quickly marched through the gate towards Valendrian.

"Seems like everyone in Vaughn's estate is dead," the head guard said gruffly, glaring at Arya. "Including Vaughn himself. Rumor has it that a couple of elves took them down. I'm here to find out who did it and arrest them. All of them."

With her head held high, Arya faced the guards. "I did it. I slew the guards and Vaughn himself after he kidnapped us."

The guard snorted. "You expect me to believe you took down an entire castle by yourself, little girl? I've no doubt you were involved, given the amount of blood on you. Who else helped you?"

"No one," she lied, though her face gave nothing away.

"You're telling me you're handy with a sword and a bow at the same time?" Arya did not reply, but stepped forward. The guard sighed, and gave an almost pitying look. "You're a brave one, I'll tell you that. If you want to take full responsibility, that's your call. But you will be alone to face what's coming to you."

Arya swallowed, fear flying across her face, but she nodded. The guard moved forward to arrest her, but Duncan cleared his throat to get the man's attention. Turning his head, the guard caught site of Duncan and sighed. "Not you again. What are you doing here, Warden?"

"I believe you are familiar with the Right of Conscription?" Duncan asked calmly, as if he were asking about the weather. Arya's head snapped up surprised, but the guard just sighed and took a step back.

"You're going to conscript this one too? You'll be putting the headsman out of business soon." He pushed Arya in the direction of Duncan and signaled his men to turn around. "Take her if you want her, but get her out of her by noon today. I don't want to see her again in the city unless she's wearing your seal, and even then she best not make trouble."

The guards turned on their heels and marched away, leaving Arya standing in shock. She did not speak until the last of the guards were out of site. "Me, a Grey Warden?"

Duncan nodded. "We were here to recruit you, Arya, to ask you to join our ranks. Now it seems you have no choice but to join us if you have a hope to live."

Arya still could not speak. The elder elf put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. He nodded, comforting her, and she nodded back. She turned to look back and Duncan. "But I know nearly nothing about you. Only stories and legends that cannot possibly be true."

"There is time to learn our history should you desire. What we need of you is your ability to fight and your loyalty. Based on your survival, I have no doubt about your fighting capabilities. But I warn you, you will be tested and pushed beyond belief, perhaps beyond your limits. The sacrifice we make is a terrible one, but it must be made. Our road is not an easy one, but it is one that is before you now."

"And if I refuse?"

Valendrian looked ready to hit her, but Duncan did not change his attitude. "You have two options right now. You can either join the ranks of the Grey Wardens, or you hang in the gallows. Put your skill and will to fight for us, for Ferelden. Do not waste your life that you fought so hard to save last night."

Arya nodded, and Valendrian wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Come, my child. We must be quick, and you must say goodbye to your loved ones. This may be the last time you ever see them." He quietly pulled her away.

Alistair moved to stand by his commander's side. "Do you think she can handle it?"

Duncan remained silent, watching the elves of the alienage begin their day. Many moved about as if nothing had occurred last night, and that they lost one of their own. That today would be the last time they saw one of their most troublesome members. A few still regarded the humans standing by the gate with wary eyes.

It was moments later, when Arya emerged from her house, her cheeks stained with tears but her head held high, when Duncan made his reply.

"She can. She must."