Hello! So, I am a fan of the noble lady-type (if you've read anything else I have put up then you'll know I do nothing else and I am sorry :|) and when I played through the Dwarven Noble origin it BLEW MY MIND. I wrote this a long, long while ago back when DA:O first came out and I want to continue it. But I suck at continuing things. Maybe you guys will like this little tid bit regardless tho? I hope so. It's kind of linear, I suppose. I wrote segments and thought I'd try to smash them together here for some reason. I hope it's not confusing, or lame. :D!

Thank you for reading as always doods. I hope you like it!

Ahlorah heard footsteps and stood, waiting to see who it would be visiting her in her cell. The sight of Gorim rushed her to the bars. "Gorim! Are you alright?" she was eager to know what had become of him after their arrest.

"I am, my lady," he spoke sullenly, his expression darkening at the sight of her; she had been stripped of her commander's armor, her face bruised and hair tangled from what he assumed was her resistance of the guards. "I've been permitted to see you before your sentence is carried out."

"What is my sentence to be?" she asked. There wasn't a hint of worry in her voice. She knew the choices: exile or immediate execution.

"Exile, to the Deep Roads," he managed.

She looked away as she recalled the look in her father's eyes. He wouldn't even look at her as she had been taken away.

Gorim stepped closer but dared nothing more at the guards in his peripheral. "I begged to share the same fate my lady, but they've caste me out to the surface."

Ahlorah smiled a small smile. "The surface. I am glad of it. I wouldn't have you doomed to the spawn, Gorim. You know this."

"My lady-"

"Stop," she insisted. She looked into his eyes with a deep emotion she had hidden away from him the entirety of their time together. The moment he spoke her her sentence, she was no longer Lady Aeducan. She longed to just be the woman he loved, nothing more and nothing less.

He could feel her stare pulling him in, urging him closer in their final moments together. "Ahlorah, I don't dare..."

"I love you," she confessed. Her eyes smiled as she leaned into the bars separating them, "you know I have always loved you."

Her round, crystal green eyes searched his face, and he couldn't stop the smile that turned up the side of his mouth. "My heart... I have always loved you, since the day I looked into your emerald eyes and saw the gleam of your smile."

"Please," she reached out, his confession her permission to pull him to her, "before I never see you again?"

"Don't say such things," he placed his hands on her cheeks and felt his heart breaking in two. He brushed her bangs away from her forehead and grimaced again at the bruises that began to darken on her cheekbone and jaw.

Ahlorah kissed him, pulling him as close to her as she could. Her heart pounded in her chest at the insistence of his returned affection. He wrapped his arms around her, taking in all that he could, for it would be the first, and last time. The thought of that alone brought tears to his eyes.

They parted reluctantly, but held onto one another. Ahlorah caressed his cheek reassuringly. "I promise you Gorim. If there is a way to the surface I will find it."

He smiled and kissed her one last time. "I live for that day, my heart."

"Time to go," one of the guards stepped up a few feet behind Gorim, clasping his hands together in front of him.

Gorim embraced her one last time. He tenderly kissed her cheek, pulling away to look into her eyes; to remember her bright green eyes until the day that they met again.

She gave him a confidant nod, hiding the hurt she felt as she watched him and the guards disappear from view. She turned her back to the bars and, leaning up against them she slid down to the floor. She bit her lip and held back her tears at the loss of everything she had ever known.

Her father... what did her father think of all of this? Of her? He had to know she would never betray her brother. And Trian. Thinking of him brought more tears to her eyes. He was harsh with her, only because he knew no other way to show how he cared for her. But now he was dead.

Because of Behlen. Her jaw tightened at the thought of her younger sibling. As common as betrayal was in Orzammar, she thought her family better than all of that.

Despite the anger and hate brewing in her heart for him, her hurt won out and she cried quietly to herself as she awaited her fate in the Deep Roads.

"After a few days I finally emerged from one of the darkspawn dug caverns to see what looked like a main road. I encountered some darkspawn, straggler's. Some giant spiders. It was two more days before I ran into Duncan and the other Grey Warden's," Ahlorah chewed a piece of dried boar meat and looked to Alistair, signifying the end of her tale.

Alistair looked on at her, bewildered. He'd no idea what life she'd had lived prior to her Joining, only assuming she'd come from Orzammar in some form of exile. Duncan never spoke of her circumstances so he had no idea she was Dwarven royalty.

"Ahlorah..." he began but found no words to speak.

"It's alright, Alistair. I am a Grey Warden now. I am sure Gorim has found his place somewhere here on the surface," she managed a small smile at her companion's attempt at comfort. "And who knows," her voice was tinged with hopefulness, "maybe someday I'll get to see him again."

"Very true," Alistair nodded, happy to have avoided what could have been something stupid coming out of his mouth. But then his curiosity got the better of him. "So then. Should I call you princess, or my lady?"

Ahlorah chuckled and shook her head, "no, please don't."

"Did they call you that back in Orzammar?" he scooted down to the ground from the log he sat on, leaning back up against it and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sometimes. Your Highness, Lady Aeducan. I never felt fit for the title, really. It's a show of power. Even if one may not desire such power, others would use it to their advantage. Use youto their advantage," she ate the last piece of boar meat in her hand and frowned at the memory of her brothers; of her father. She'd left them out of her story to Alistair.

He saw the sudden flash of darkness in her eyes and knew there was probably more to the tale of her life thus far, but wouldn't ask. It seemed rumors of Dwarven betrayal and cut-throat political antics were more than just that.

His own truth surfaced. He felt fear and doubt course through his veins at the thought of even a remote possibility that he could be king. Prince, even. He shuddered at the thought.

"Cold?" Ahlorah asked at his shiver.

"Oh, no. Just a chill," he shrugged. "Hm, royalty, huh? Duncan sure knows how to pick em'," Alistair teased, hoping to bring the mood back to a lighter place.

Ahlorah sighed. "You won't let me live this down will you?"

"Probably not," he answered flatly.

"Hm."

He smiled up at her, "I think I understand what you mean, about not wanting to be the princess. It seems like a lot of pressure."

"It wasn't that, really. It was... it was that others were held in lower regard, no matter their deeds or benevolence. A mere noblewoman, gossipy and flitty without any real ambition except monetary gain would have been allotted all the luxury in Orzammar, whilst others whose deeds were admirable and contributive were left over-shadowed and ignored, left to Dust Town. The caste system," she shook her head shamefully, "it's time for change. But that kind of thinking is far beyond the common Dwarven stone-sense.

"And Dust Town... humanity, is it?" she questioned the word and looked to him for assurance that she understood it correctly, "the feeling of equality for all of your kind?"

Alistair nodded, "it doesn't always come across as that amongst us humans, but essentially, yes."

"Heh," she smiled at his jest. "Well in the true form of the word, if that were the morale that reigned in Orzammar... at the root of it all, the Assembly chooses it's new ruler. It is not a matter of blood, as it is here in Ferelden," she looked amused at that fact, "so it would make sense to think anyone capable of, well anything, let alone ruling a kingdom."

How funny, she thought. Orzammar chose it's ruler by capability, whereas Ferelden chose theirs from the blood of the royal line. They were complete opposites, yet humans were free to be who they were regardless.

Alistair listened on as she continued speaking of the Casteless, Merchant Caste, Warrior Caste, Smith Caste. To be born into your profession and to be branded to it. Stifling, ancient beliefs lasting centuries and centuries obviously frustrating her.

He found himself in awe as she spoke. She talked of a kindred Orzammar, where one could chose their path and be respected for it. Where your birth wouldn't damn you to live a life of starvation with no means to an end. These Casteless, they couldn't even work or have weapons. It seemed rather heartless to him.

"Again, the Assembly could be bought, and those damned to live a life of hell could remain vengeful, only knowing the darkest ways of survival and nothing more. But respect for all, and hope... why should such things be scarce in a place that could use them the most?" her eyes met his as she wondered aloud at her question.

Alistair almost laughed at the immense feeling of admiration he felt for her in that moment. This woman was indeed noble, adhering to the ideals of one worthy of ruling a land and its people.

"Duncan knows how to pick them, indeed," he complimented her.

"Hm," she flushed lightly. "I'm sorry. It's been such a short time since it was all I knew. I suppose I don't have to worry about such things anymore."

"No, I suppose not," he offered kindly. "The Blight, in essence, affects us all, Orzammar included. So you still serve them," he insinuated the Dwarven people. He uncrossed his arms and leaned a little closer to her. His eyes were focused on hers as he declared, "they were lucky to have had you. Whatever occurred there and whatever led you here, I'm glad it at least brought you to us."

Ahlorah looked back at her fellow Warden and was truly touched at his words. She'd been closest to him, of all the Wardens, her only friend so far in her new life on the surface. To have such an understanding building between them filled the empty longing for all that she'd lost, a little if not a lot.

"I suppose spending my remaining days on the surface with you is worthy of it all," she smirked playfully at him.

"Ohhh, ho ho, now," he pretended to be pained in the heart, clutching at his shirt. "Ouch, really Ahlorah."

She laughed heartily at his performance. "I'm sorry Alistair. Thank you, for... well, being you," she grinned at him. "I couldn't have asked for a better Warden companion."

Her words went deeper than he let on, being thanked for who he was and nothing more. And he didn't let on. He instead continued his performance. "Can't hear you. My world's been shattered by a mean, mean Dwarven princess..."

"Oh by the Stone," she sighed with a playful frown.

"What do you think?" Ahlorah asked Alistair as the mabari almost the size of her sniffed at her neck and face.

Alistair stifled a laugh at the sight and shrugged, "dunno, really. It seems he's taken to you though. Probably imprinted on you back at Ostagar."

"All I did was muzzle the poor thing," she reached out and scratched the hound behind the ears, "isn't that right pup-py?" she baby-talked the dog, who happily yipped and licked her face. "Ughh whoa!" Ahlorah exclaimed, wiping her face whilst Alistair's laughter finally escaped him.

"Oh Maker, I, I can't breathe!" Alistair bent over, arms over his stomach.

"Shut up Alistair!" she frowned, wiping the drool from her face and looking back at the dog who just panted heavily and happily back at her. "You're breath is horrid, you know." She ignored Alistair's incessant laughter as she pondered taking the mabari with them. Morrigan looked less than amused at having the hound along. But he had come all that way, and right to her. Perhaps it was meant to be. Deep in her gut she felt that the truth. "Very well. I'll need to name you, then," she rest her fists on her hips as she thought of something.

"Great. Another flea-bitten creature to tag along, then," Morrigan sighed with annoyance as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Alistair heard the 'another' and shot her a dirty look. His laughter calmed at that and he looked down at owner and mabari as they pondered what to call him.

"How about Galen? I knew a man named Galen, died in the Proving's, but he was a strong fighter."

The mabari shook his head and hacked lightly.

"Ha, not strong enough, I guess. Alright," she chuckled. "Perhaps a Ferelden name?" the mabari barked. "Fine, fine... how about Edgar?"

The hound seemed to think a moment before barking madly and jumping about in circles around her.

"Edgar it is!" she laughed. "Well Edgar, we need to get to this Lothering as soon as possible."

He stopped his romp and barked once, taking place at her side and waiting.

"Wow, that settled fast," Alistair humf-ed in amusement. "Off we go then?"

"At last," Morrigan began to lead the way.

Ahlorah looked to Alistair who rolled his eyes at Morrigan's annoyance. The two Warden's follow suit, newly-named Edgar at Ahlorah's side. Morrigan wandered ahead a little way, offering distance enough for Ahlorah to speak with Alistair candidly.

"Are you alright? I know... you've haven't talked much, since we left Flemeth's," she tried at asking how he was handling Duncan's death. She knew he wasn't handling it at all well, but didn't know how to inquire without hurting him more.

Alistair looked away with shame in his eyes. "I... I should have handled it better. I'm sorry. It's just... he saved me from a fate trapped in a temple somewhere. He was the first person to ever care about what Iwanted. I can't help but feel I've failed him somehow."

Ahlorah frowned for her companion. "You haven't, and you have nothing to be sorry for, Alistair. I know he was like a father to you."

"I just-" he began but stopped himself. His expression sank at the loss he felt for Duncan. "I wish I had something of his, a token, to remember him by. Tch, that sounds stupid, doesn't it?" he glanced to her before looking back out at the road.

She shook her head. "It's not stupid Alistair. I think it's completely normal. You want to remember him."

He smiled, "thanks." They walked side by side in silence for a bit. Edgar trounced off after a butterfly, the two chuckling at the hound's un-success in devouring it. "You know, I think Duncan was from Highever. Maybe, when this all over, I'll go there."

Ahlorah watched on at Edgar digging in some grass, "that sounds nice. Maybe I'll go with you."

"Heh. I think I'd like that," Alistair's inner giddiness at her words was well hidden.

They exchanged smiles before sheepishly looking away from one another.