AN: So, I came up with this when I played the Noble Dwarf start and when I got to Ostgar, I noticed he was NOT wearing any shoes since I did not find any when looking for Duncan. I have later learned that YES you can find shoes down there to...I just...didn't find them. Either way, enjoy reading!

Aeducan

My name was Duran Aeducan.

Was.

There was something big about that. I was no longer one of my house, no longer part of the proud house of Aeducan. All because my brother, Bhelen could not keep his schemes to himself, no, of course not.

Bhelen had to betray not only my trust, but the trust Trian and father had placed in him.

And I had been locked out of Orzammar to never return, to die in the Deep Roads as food for the Darkspawn or whatever they would do to me, perhaps even drag me to a Broodmother to feed her for all I knew. By the Stone, it was not fair!

To be sent with only sword and shield to protect himself into the Deep Roads. Or to die as it was, no chance to rescue oneself and if it hadn't been for Duncan and his troop…

Duran shuddered to think of it.

He also shuddered at all the open air. It was…to much honestly. All that blue sky that one could just fall into even if your feet were firmly planted on the ground. Duran had been very surprised the first time Duncan showed him a elfroot plant, the Warden explaining how it could be used to heal. He'd seen dried examples of it of course but never the green living one that Duncan had presented him with the night after they left the Deep Roads for the outside.

It had been a funny feeling, all that green around him, the feeling of bark and earth and the smell of plants. No stone like he was used to.

Then again, he had no shoes and could keenly feel the cold of the frozen earth. Snow, what a strange invention. He'd never seen something like it before. But it wasn't to bad, not after walking all those days in the Deep Roads without shoes on his feet. So Duran took what he had and moved on, didn't complain even if he could, to proud to beg for scrapes though Duncan had provided him with a spare sleeping roll through the travel.

The human might not have noticed that Duran was barefooted actually, the former dwarf prince's feet covered in muck and dirt from the roads, so black it actually looked like leather.

Duran should wash them honestly…

But what was the point?

They would only get dirty again with all this earth around him. Earth and mud and f-foliage debris.

So Duran let it be. Just as he let his beard grow out, the one he had kept to a fine stubble until now. He still braided his hair up every morning but nothing else honestly. The dwarf felt it didn't matter anymore. Every step took him further from home, further from Orzammar. Further from home.

He almost wanted to run back screaming as loud as he could. Beg Bhelen to let him stay.

But he had taken his decision. He was going to stay, for better or for worse. And to become a Gray Warden it seemed. He guessed he should count himself lucky he had the skills and mind to be lucky enough to be even considered as one. Duran didn't feel lucky though. If he was lucky, Tiran would still be alive…

"Are you alright there Master dwarf?" Duran looked up in surprise at being addressed, blinking at one of the men Duncan had with him, a fellow Gray Warden Duran assumed since he had been in the Deep Roads too. "I…What?"

"You looked like you were lost in your thoughts and not interested in food at all." The Warden pointed slightly to Duran's side and the dwarf glanced, blinking several times as he noticed the steaming bowl of stew on his side. "Oh, I…must have been deep in thoughts. I'm sorry." He picked up the bowl slowly and started to eat, unaware of his companions watching him.

Duncan frowned slightly, worried about the former Aeducan member. He knew being left behind like that and betrayed was bound to leave someone feeling…well, more then low at least. Perhaps blank. While Duncan had requited him for the fact that he was cunning, strong, fast and smart, he had also hoped it would give the now lower then even casteless dwarfs a new goal.

He sighed and glanced around before looking back at Duran.

'I wish I could hel-he's not wearing boots.' Duncan stared. 'Of course he's not wearing boots Duncan! He was thrown to die in the Deep Roads, they get the clothes on their back, a sword, a shield and NOTHING else.' He mentally face palmed before rummaging through his own pack, frowning as he came up to naught. He had no spare ones.

Blasted.

He turned to Jervic and silently gestured to the eating elf. Jervic blinked but looked, noting the feet since Duncan was almost pointing to them. Jarvic looked startled before quickly turning to his pack, he found a boot but frowned and shook his head. He had lost the other one in the Deep Roads.

Jarvic turned to Tammsel who had noted the others behavior and was already looking through his own things. With a grin, he found two matching boots that HOPEFULLY fit the dwarf. Duran did have bigger feet then humans but perhaps…

"Duran?" The redheaded dwarf looked up, blinking heavily as Tammsel held out a pair of boots to him. "I…what?"

That seemed to become his standard sentence since he left.

"We just noticed you weren't wearing boots, these might fit hopefully." Duncan said kindly.

Duran took it slowly, staring at the boots before looking at them and nodding. "I…thank you all. I think…I will go clean up now." The former prince stood up slowly, putting the bowl down while keeping his hands on the boots.

Duncan watched the stout male walk to where the river was, smiling slightly. "…Perhaps he might end up alright after all." He murmured before getting up and walking around a bit, discreetly glancing at Duran to see him washing properly. Good.

Perhaps he could get a bit peace into his soul again now.

There was something…liberating about washing all the grime and muck of his feet and legs and the rest of his body honestly.

Perhaps it was like washing of the betrayal of family. To wash off the death of a brother. The loss of a friend. The abandonment of family. The in-justice of a whole city.

Carefully, Duran dressed afterward, slowly pulling on the boots he was given. It was not a perfect fit, they chafed but…they were boots and as he walked back to the fire, now groomed and clean for at least a while, he felt…new.

The sky suddenly didn't scare him so much, the forest wasn't so alien anymore and his travel companions were suddenly so much easier to recognize. As he sat down, he smiled at them all.

He could do this. He was no longer a Aeducan. He was Duran, the coming Gray Warden. He would bare that title with honor among his fellow sister and brothers in the order.

Duncan smiled to himself. Duran was going to just fine.