I had a bit of inspiration coming, so I decided to start writing a series of one-shots about Elissa in Amaranthine. As you can read in my other stories based on this !F Cousland universe, her stay at Vigil's Keep has left Elissa somewhat bitter and insecure. These chapters should give more insight about her relationship with Anders (as described in Destiny Forlorn) rather than giving an exact account on the storyline of Awakening.

Please feel free to drop me a line with comments; I am always very fond of them and it motivates me to keep on writing!

This story is based on Bioware's game Dragon Age: Origins. I do not own any of these characters or storylines for they are created by Bioware. Not intended for sale or other than recreational purposes.

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To say the walls were closing in on her would have been an overstatement, but Elissa appreciated the drama in her choice of words. She wrote them down on the piece of parchment in front of her, carefully pressing the feather this time as to prevent the ink from spattering. This time she wanted to make sure her handwriting would come across not only stable and sophisticated, but also loving and attentive.

Then again, when did men ever interest themselves in trivial cases like a woman's handwriting? And knowing hers, he would probably be oblivious to her subtle efforts. Unless she would be frivolous enough to use hearts to dot her I's.

She read the letter she wrote, the mere few sentences that had taken her more time than she was willing to admit, and put it aside. A pile of papers had collected at the corner of her desk which she intended to keep as drafts in case any attempt to put her feelings in writing would fail. But after a quick glance through the sometimes balled up papers, catching phrases like "faltering jurisdiction", "impending calamities" and eventually, "I miss you, I just miss you", she stood up and threw the pile in the hearth. The parchment shriveled dismally, as did her attempts to appeal to the woman she had been months ago.

Elissa had first insisted on wearing her Chasined leather tunic after she had freed at Vigil's keep from the darkspawn invasion. She had recognized her childish stubbornness, as her new title and status would not only offer her more appropriate gear, but would also require a more selfless dedication from her. Soon after she had glanced around the grand common room of the keep, she had realized she would gain more respect dressing as a noble warrior than like wilding wench.

The day she visited the vigil's armory she had felt determined to man up and act according to the woman she now was; not a mere Warden, but the Warden Commander of Ferelden. Yet after she was dressed in mail and boiled leather she regretted allowing her old tunic to be tossed away. She regretted it still, as she eyed the unfamiliar enameled boots on her feet, reflecting the firelight prettily, but impractically. It seemed she had lost herself that day, as much as she had lost her tunic.

Life on the road had become her, her mind and her companions had pointed out. Though never prude or particular, Elissa was highborn and the tasks at hand had been anywhere but within the protection of a citadel's walls. The constant travelling from battle to battle had taken some getting used to, but she had gotten a knack for it. Her honey curls had soon tangled into a wild mane, her sophisticated pallid weathered by various scars from various fights.

Yet it was the battle for which she was rewarded her title that had left her most weathered. Broken, beaten and burnt. If there had been more of her noble household alive to see it, they wouldn't have recognized her as Alistair had found her on the keep's rooftop, not even if they would have tripped over her there and then.

But as befitted her kind, she had soon recovered. The taint in her blood had closed up her wounds within days, but the bones she had cracked in her fall still occasionally caused her hurt. She pressed her ribs tentatively, searching for a reassurance that before she had become the center of all the impersonal plots Amaranthine had to offer, she had in fact been the Hero of Ferelden.

Reluctantly she kneeled down, allowing herself some relief in her crouch. As the flames nipped at the last shreds of parchment, she sighed and rested her head on her knees.

'Alistair, my love', she recited silently. 'I trust you long for our reunion as much as I do.'

'Although any such time without you by my side is cold, Amaranthine has proven to be a long winter. It seems the land no longer requires a hero, but a politician. As the highest ranking of the Grey this task has befallen me, leaving me glum when I am required to rule, and deflated when I'm required to fight.'

Once more she looked down at the glimmer of her boots, but decided making mention of her disposed armor would sound folly to a man called to Weisshaupt, even if it was the man she loved.

'The quests that carry me out of the keep are not the least trivial, but exceed the means of a mere right or wrong, good and bad. The choices I make never seem to please everyone, and I have to watch my back more than ever.'

'Luckily, the men,'

She paused reluctantly, looking for words. As she tripped over her mind's tongue, she remembered not all her companions were men. There was Sigrun, the Legion's dwarf who had been willing to join the Order to fight the darkspawn threat on the surface. And Velanna, the elven archer who had only joined the Wardens in search for revenge. Their forces were welcomed but their demeanor had remained distant, just like that of most her other companions. Elissa realized with a pang of hurt this is what had caused her to stumble of her mind's words. She sighed and tried again.

'My companions have my back.'

Judging her words to be true, she continued cautiously.

'My reunion with Nathaniel Howe has left our relationship prosperous and as of old. I know I can count on him, and his dedication to the Order is fed by his will to set right what his father has done wrong. With Fergus away, I feel I once again am under the protection of a brother, despite any affection in words and deeds is out of the question, as it were as we grew up side by side.'

Elissa caught herself smiling as she pictured young Nathaniel's stern face back in Highever, her elderly home. Despite how the recent war has left him bitter, the image of the familiar clench in his jaw gave her a reassurance she only saw returned in the smallest of gestures and words. A reassurance, but not a comfort.

'Unfortunately, the rest seems to have taken a page out of his book.' She continued bitterly, 'Whether it is because of my newly acquired title or that the role of arlessa befalls me ill, I do not know.'

The truth was she did know; in particular cases it was one or the other, in some, a little bit of both. At least she knew Oghren's provocative behavior had a childish explanation, one she hoped to overcome with a motherly approach. It was little more than she could muster, but recently, life had often required her to be the bigger man.

'Apparently here in Amaranthine only life on the road allows friendships to grow, as it did during the blight. But even though the lands here are untainted, few friendships will blossom.'

As her mind's pen steered her towards a particular companion, her inner voice silenced. Anders was the source of most comfort among the Wardens at Vigil's Keep, but describing the likeness of the mage to her templar would do him little to no good, even though her words had not reached paper yet. Instead she allowed her mind to wander to the present, the fire in front of her, the shuffling outside the door of her office. She doubted only a moment, and then spoke.

"Seneschal, come in."

Her voice sounded different to her, if not unreal. The door creaked so loud it sounded like it had a voice of it's own.

"The nobles have gathered, we are ready to start."

Without getting up, Elissa briefly took a moment to regain her senses. If his voice and behavior had not assured her of his presence, the lack of taint in Varel's blood had. Regaining a sense of the present, she remembered which words he had spoken.

She had gotten used to his informal, yet distant tone. In an attempt to get acquainted she had insisted he would address her without titles. Not Warden Commander, not even Milady. Her well-meant gesture seemed to have kept him flustered if not uncomfortable; instead of introducing familiarity, it seemed she had created an unintended distance she soon saw was uneasy to bridge. Even now she felt his uneasy glance in her back: Curious, but reluctant to act on what he was seeing.

She didn't question the Seneschal's loyalty, but she knew where it lied; with the Grey Wardens and their Warden Commander. Not with Elissa, the lonely girl who sat hunched in front of the fire.

"I shall come shortly, Varel."

The pause that followed wasn't as uneasy as she would have expected, but as he continued she found out her feelings were one-sided.

"If you don't mind me being so bold, the situation with Amaranthine's nobility requires immediate attention, as you well know."

'Yes', Elissa's voice echoed through her head, 'Those conspiring nobles always do.' Yet she stood up and made her way to the door, which the Seneschal opened for her politely. The cold of the keep's corridor reached her skin relentlessly, waking her mind up from it's slumber with a splash.

"My father believed a man's followers will treat him with the respect and courtesy he grants them," She spoke aloud. The memory of her late father brought a sardonic smile to her lips. "I suspect I might be too late to make up for the damage Arl Howe has done before we arrived."

Varel answered absentmindedly, gently urging her towards the common room where the gathered nobility awaited her. "Your father? Forgive me, I must ask you to remind me of your story at a time less pressing.".

Elissa sighed and found herself grateful for the warm hand on her elbow that pressed her forward, despite how it intended little comfort.

"Maybe later, then." She forced her tentative smile to stay where it was as the great doors of the hall swung open.