Note: Everything belongs to Bioware.

Exile and Stone

"Having been found guilty of fratricide by the Assembly of Orzammar, you are hereby sentenced to exile and death."

Sereda ripped her sword through the soft darkspawn flesh, red-black blood spurting onto the thaig walls. With a last, pained grunt, her enemy fell in front of her, gurgling on the last remnants of its life. It was silenced quickly. She knelt and examined the genlock's still body, searching it for anything of value.

Sod it. Nothing again.

Frustrated, she slid down the side of the stone wall next to her fresh kill. She took off her newly acquired helmet and chucked it to the side in anger. The stink from the original darkspawn that wore it made her stomach roll. Sereda felt like screaming in the shadowy halls of the Deep Roads, but she knew that would only alert more darkspawn to her location.

With her hands on her knees, her head bowed, the young dwarf struggled to hold back her tears. It had been two days since she had been banished from the only home she had ever known. She reflected bitterly on her blind trust in her family, despite the obvious competitiveness between herself and her siblings. With Trian dead and her exiled, Bhelen would be free to convince the deshyrs to make him King after their father died. Sereda wiped a bloodstained hand over her sweaty brow as she remembered the last words Harrowmont spoke to her before sending her to her death.

"Your name is, from this point forward, stripped from the records. You are no longer a person, nor a memory. You are to be cast into the Deep Roads with only sword and shield, there to redeem your life by fighting the enemies of Orzammar until your death."

She remembered the startling force of white hot pain in her chest as those words were spoken. Everything she had trained and studied for was all for naught. She had been abandoned by her people, branded a traitor and murderer. She was nothing but a whisper to be echoed in family dwellings, until her face truly faded from their minds.

When Harrowmont finally raised his eyes to hers, she refused to look away. She held his stare in her last act of defiance, never uttering a word in her defense. She thought he saw a look of pity flash in the lines of his worn face as he bid her the final farewell.

"May the Stone accept you when you fall."

Sereda lifted her head up from her knees, dried tears stilling clinging to her face. She looked over to see her distorted reflection on her small shield. Her small, doll-like face was smudged with dirt, grime and blood. Her short blond hair stuck up in tufts, stiff and sticky from her endeavors in the Deep Roads. She could not clearly see her eyes, but she assumed they were bloodshot and swollen from lack of sleep and tears.

The longer she looked at her reflection, the angrier she became. Such a face was meant for a princess and noble commander, not an erased memory fighting to die at the hands of the dwarves' greatest foe. They didn't even give her the option of becoming one of the Legion of the Dead-that would have at least spared her dignity.

As she continued to stare hatefully at her reflection, thinking about all she had lost, a childhood memory floated to the surface of her mind. It was long ago-she was still a small child, running wildly in the palace. She flew past the stern guards and the amused servants until she ran into a brick wall-her brother, Trian. She cringed slightly, fearing her stern older brother's wrath. Instead, he looked down on her and smiled. He reached out to touch her hair for a brief moment, playing with a wayward golden strand.

"You look so much like our mother, Sereda. Such a pretty face. Like a little doll."

She remembered the sadness on his face, a man's grief etched onto a boy's face. But she knew mother had been beautiful, and Trian's small compliment felt like she had finally risen to some level of worth in his eyes. She laughed and hugged him. Uncomfortable with her affections, he gently pulled her from him and hurriedly walked away.

Silent tears from that small reminiscence came to her eyes as she sat on the dirty floor. So much had changed in the years stemming from the small gesture, it had been long forgotten. So many lessons and secrets had changed her family, and the love they had for one another. Constant competitions, even over the simplest of tasks had been sought to be won.

Sereda remembered all of the fine things her cleverness and beauty had won her. She had been raised for the life that she had been promised- a life of glory, honor and family duty. She had been prepared for that life, and had excelled at it. But she no longer had that future-it was up to her to see that she even still had one. She knew that now.

She glanced at her reflection once more, this time bringing it closer so she could see her eyes properly.

The bright green eyes had dulled from their usual emerald shine, but they were no longer vacant and hopeless. She was still an Aeducan, a former princess and a talented rogue. Nothing could take that away from her. Not the mighty dwarven city of Orzammar, nor the self-obsessed deshyrs.

And most certainly not her vile, treacherous brother.

In that muddy image from her shield, her expression changed. The rosebud lips, so accustomed to smiling, set into a determined, grim line. The eyes sparked not with happiness, but with a will to live. The flush rose back into her cheeks as she lifted herself up from the ground.

Grabbing the helmet she had thrown, she jammed it onto her head. She mounted her battered sword to her back and slid her shield to her arm.

She would make for the Grey Wardens, like Gorim had told her about before they parted. She would join them, in their quest to kill the darkspawn. She would prove herself to be more than a shade of a memory. Sereda Aeducan would not sit back and die while there was still hope to be found.

"By the Maker! It's a dwarf!"

Sereda scowled at the astonished Warden as she pulled herself up from the rubble at the pathway to the main road. After several grueling hours in the Deep Roads fighting against darkspawn and deepstalkers, she was battle worn and thirsty. She caught Duncan's eye as she approached them. She noted that, although his eyebrows were raised in mild surprise, he seemed less shocked to see her there then the rest of his men.

"Lady Aeducan! What are you doing here alone? Where are your troops?"

Sereda braced herself for the pain that flashed through her heart at the sound of her former title. She silently chastised herself. She could not afford to fall to pieces at the mere mention of her past if she was to become a Grey Warden.

"I am Lady Aeducan no longer." Her voice sounded different to her, coarse and uncultured, as if her title had only been there to polish the rough stone that she was. Duncan's face fell into lines of understanding and sympathy. Sereda suddently felt uncomfortable being the object of his kindness.

"Ah, you have been made to walk the Deep Roads then." Duncan's revelation sent rumblings through the rest of the Grey Wardens. The one that had noticed her presence initially spoke again.

"You mean you were exiled? What happened?"

Duncan cut him off abruptly. "I do not think matters of dwarven honor are any business of ours. You need not answer, friend."

Serea nodded gratefully.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Duncan eyed her speculatively now. She straightened herself up as much as she could, eager to prove she was worthy of the warden's attention. He seemed to ponder a moment before choosing his words. Then, he spoke and his voice echoed in the dim hall.

"It is not the way of this order to pass judgments on the pasts of others. You've already proven yourself both resourceful and skilled. And I would expect nothing less from an Aeducan. I have been searching for those with your level of ability; your exploits in the Deep Roads set you apart. As leader for the Grey Warden of Ferelden, I would like to formally invite you to join our order."

Sereda took a deep breath. She thought she would have to prove herself further to be accepted into their ranks. Her body ached from the effort of swinging a sword not her own, and she longed for a bath to rid her of the darkspawn blood that felt as if it had seeped into her very soul.

She looked at Duncan squarely and locked eyes. She knew this wasn't the easy way out. She knew that she would likely die sooner than she would like if the Blight were truly coming. And the leader of the Grey Wardens knew that she knew it.

But she also knew that a life without purpose, without duty, was a life not worth living. Sereda knew that this was the best way to live out her life now. Her family, Gorim, the Assembly-she could never desire those things again. She would steel herself against betrayal and heartache, and focus on eliminating the darkspawn. At that moment, Sereda put up a wall between herself and the rest of the world, narrowing her vision to the one goal.

"I would be honored."

With those words, she felt Lady Aeducan melt away with each step they took toward the surface. And when she felt the sudden shock of fresh air on her face, and saw the impossibly large, blue sky above her, Sereda closed her eyes and smiled.

*"Atrast tunsha." she whispered into the wind. With that, she took her first step into a new world.

*Atrast tunsha: A formal farewell in the dwarven tongue.

A/N: I revised this story a bit, and edited quite a few errors. I would really appreciate some reviews any suggestions for future stories on this character-she is one of my favorites!

I am currently plaything throw the Dwarf Noble Origin, and I have to say, it is my favorite next the City Elf Origin. So much betrayal and anguish.

~Seras