STANDARD DISCLAIMER: Dragon Age and all of its locations, characters, etc are the intellectual property of Bioware and Electronic Arts. I don't own anything...I just play here.

Author's Note:

My intention is to write this as a series of relatively short one-shots as a companion piece to my Blight fic...What Comes, My Friend. If you haven't read any of WCMF, I'll just preface this fic by letting you know that Chalia Tabris (main character), Soris and Shianni are not cousins in my world...they are siblings. Soris is the eldest, Chalia is five years younger than Soris and Shianni is six years younger than Chalia. I have my reasons, and it works, trust me.

Since I've created quite the colorful family life for the Tabris family, I wanted to expand upon it and explore certain facets of the pasts of my favorite characters, including Soris's pre-wedding jitters and Chalia's rollercoaster relationship with Tobin.

I can see this piece growing to, maybe five chapters...ten at the most.

I guess I'll see where this little adventure leads me. I'm enjoying the ride so far. Hope you do, too!

Chapter One

"Young love is a flame; very pretty, often very hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. The love of the older and disciplined heart is as coals, deep-burning, unquenchable."

-Henry Ward Beecher

"That's my sister you're speaking of, you realize. My little sister." Soris scowled at his friend as the two of them wove their way through the crowded marketplace.

"As far as I can see, there's nothing little about her." Tobin grinned, displaying two rows of unusually even and near-perfect white teeth, and erupted into a fit of loud laughter at the look of pure disgusted shock on Soris's face. He clapped his friend on the back good-naturedly. "Oh Soris, relax...I'm joking!"

"Sure you are, " Soris muttered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

Tobin shook his head, a wide grin still plastered on his face. "So, I think Chalia is pretty...so what? She's a girl. I need a woman."

Soris snorted. "You're ridiculous..."

"No..." Tobin wagged a finger under Soris's nose. "What's ridiculous is you holding onto this archaic idea you have about waiting until you're married to have any sort of fun. Sometimes I seriously wonder if you're lacking the proper parts... I suppose Valora will find out soon enough." Tobin nudged Soris with an elbow. "Looking at her, I'd wager she's a virgin, so I doubt she'll notice your lack of finesse between the sheets."

Soris grimaced. He was used to Tobin's ribbing, but the mention of his impending nuptials managed to work its prickly way under his skin.

"Father says the matchmaker chose well. I'm sure he's right. Valora's a good woman..."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that. The ugly ones usually are."

"She's not ugly," Soris groused. "She's just..."

"Plain?" Tobin supplied with an arch of his brow. "Mousy? Homely? Let me know when I should stop..."

Soris glowered. "Stop."

"Just blow out the candles before you get to it. I'm sure it'll be fine," Tobin snickered.

"Tobin!"

At the sound of his name, Tobin spun on his heel, his eyes darting here and there among the mass of faces both foreign and familiar until his gaze settled on a stunning, fair-haired elven woman who waved at him from one of the market stalls. Soris watched his friend's eyes light up, the crooked, lazy half-smile that Tobin was famous for among the young ladies of the alienage sliding into place on his lips like a well-worn weapon. And, oh, what a weapon it was.

Even Soris had to grudgingly admit that his childhood friend had grown into a handsome man. He was tall and lean with sun-streaked hair and a well-formed musculature gained from the occasional work he performed as an outdoor laborer for the city. The young women of the alienage, and even a few human women Soris had noticed, followed him with their eyes as he strode by, always confident and cocky and hopelessly full of himself. Most flirted shamelessly, practically drooling and groveling at his feet, and Tobin would just smile coolly like a conquering prince and carry on as though he couldn't be bothered with all the fuss.

And, of course, Tobin with all of his boyish, selfish charm was not shy about regaling Soris with tales of his many conquests, and Soris...though he would never admit it...found himself more than a little jealous. Painfully shy and timid, he'd never been good at talking to women. They made him nervous and fidgety and...well, that was why his father had hired a matchmaker, wasn't it? There were plenty of eligible young women of marriageable age in the Denerim alienage, but Soris just hadn't been able to cross that bridge on his own. And now in a few days time, he was going to be someone's husband...and he was going to have to listen to Tobin carry on and on about his latest amorous adventures...one of which appeared to be playing out even as he quickened his stride to catch up to his friend who was already leaning on the gate of the market stall, the fingers of one hand traipsing languidly over a bolt of bright sapphire blue fabric as he chatted up the pretty elven girl.

Soris recognized her. Fela Dalis. Gorgeous, bubbly, long-legged Fela Dalis whom Soris had admired from afar ever since his sixteenth year when the beautiful Fela had stood sobbing beneath the Vehnadahl, pleading for someone, anyone, to climb up into the Tree and rescue her poor old cat who had been chased up the great trunk and into the canopy by an evil horde of rambunctious elven children.

Though he was deathly afraid of heights, Soris had swallowed his fear and made the climb, nearly losing his grip on the rain-slick bark more than once in his effort to reach the gray tabby that hissed and spit, its fur standing on end as he edged ever closer and grabbed the terrified feline by the ruff. He had made his way back down the trunk, slow and awkward in his descent, the cat's sharp claws leaving bloody furrows across his face and chest and arms that stung and ached for days afterward. Of course, it had been worth it when Fela had thanked him, called him brave...and kissed him.

After that day, he'd wanted desperately to speak to Fela, hoping for...what? Another kiss, maybe...something...anything, but every time he tried, his words came out jumbled and nonsensical, and he watched as Fela's friends shook with laughter, hiding smirks behind their hands and whispering to one another as he shuffled away, embarrassed and blushing furiously.

And now, here he was, watching his best friend flirt effortlessly with the flawless blond goddess for whom he had nightly lit candles at the altar of unrequited love.

"Perhaps I could close up early...meet you at the Pearl for a drink?" Fela purred, the dark fans of her eyelashes fluttering.

"The Pearl?" Tobin quirked a brow, looking both pleased and surprised. "Do you frequent brothels often, Fela?"

Laughter bubbled from her lips, bright and tinny as a silver bell. "I have friends there. And the drinks aren't watered down like in some of those other shit holes in this city."

"My kind of woman..." Tobin grinned as he straightened and turned, reaching out to wrap his arm around Soris's slender shoulders. "Speaking of brothels...poor Soris here is getting married in a few days. Do you know any ladies who would be willing to show him a good time?"

Soris coughed uncomfortably as Fela's cornflower blue gaze swept over him, her eyes widening slightly in recognition.

"Tobin," he began. "I don't think..."

"Oh...Soris. I...didn't know you were getting married." Fela's pretty, heart-shaped mouth swept up at the corners. "Congratulations. Who's the lucky girl?"

"Um..."

Tobin rolled his eyes. "Some homely brood mare from Highever." He cupped a hand around one side of his mouth and leaned toward Fela to whisper theatrically, "Arranged match."

"Valora isn't..."

Fela giggled. "In that case, I suppose I should offer my condolences."

Soris felt himself start to blush, his face and ears growing hot. Fela was still smiling at him, her face soft and open, her eyes glittering in the noonday light.

Tobin rocked back on his heels with a wicked grin. "Did I mention that Soris is a virgin? There's got to be some sort of discount for that, right?"

Soris felt a lump rise in his throat and he swallowed violently, trying to dislodge it before he choked. He was sure that his face had gone from pink with mild embarrassment to the burning scarlet of pure mortification. His palms were suddenly very sweaty, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark hole somewhere and die.

Maker take me, he silently begged.

But Fela didn't laugh. Instead, she reached out a tentative hand and trailed her fingers lightly across his forearm. His flesh pimpled in the wake of her touch, and with herculean effort, he managed to drag his gaze upward from the dusty ground to meet her lovely eyes.

"Tobin," Fela said softly, though her eyes did not leave Soris's face. "You shouldn't tease Soris so. He's a good man. Any woman would be lucky to call him her husband."

Tobin snorted with laughter. "I doubt it was luck as much as, say, a few hundred sovereigns. You know how Cyrion likes to throw his money around..."

Without thinking, Soris surged forward and shoved Tobin away from him and into the solid outside wooden wall of the market common with all of the force he could muster. "My father doesn't "throw his money around." Take it back!"

Fela retreated a few steps, a hand pressed to her mouth, her brow furrowed with faint lines of worry.

Tobin's eyes grew round with genuine surprise. His hands came up in front of him, palms facing outward in surrender. "I didn't mean anything by it, Soris. Calm down. I was only joking!"

Soris shook his head and let out a small growl of frustration. "Don't joke about my family like that. Ever. Again."

Tobin looked sheepish. "Okay, okay...I'm sorry. Look," he said, his lazy smile slipping back into place, "I'll buy you a drink so you can relax...unwind. I think all of this marriage business is making you edgy. That and, you know, not getting laid ever in twenty-two years."

Soris sighed and glanced at Fela. She had a cloth in her hand and seemed suddenly very busy scrubbing the makeshift counter in front of her. Had she really been flirting with him moments ago? He didn't know how any of this worked...

"Fela, I'm sorry..." His voice trailed off, completely lost to him when she looked up and smiled, the light of it reaching her eyes.

"It's fine." She made a small, dismissive gesture with the hand that held the cleaning cloth. "I can understand you being nervous before...well...you know." She leaned forward on her elbows, beckoning him closer with a quick toss of her head. "Come to the Pearl tonight. Around sundown?" Soris wasn't sure if it was just the slant of the light or his imagination, but he thought that he saw her cheeks beginning to turn a soft shade of pink. "Please?"

"I...okay."

Fela nodded and smiled, her eyes darting to Tobin for a moment, then she turned her back to him, busying herself with straightening the bolts of brightly dyed fabrics that lined the small shelves inside the stall. Soris had a feeling that she had wanted to say something more and probably would have if Tobin had not been hovering close by. He supposed that he would have to wait until tonight to find out what that something was.