When she told them who she was, they laughed at her; called her a crazy, air-touched, surfacer. Her reply was sufficiently caustic to make one of them reach for his axe, but the other held him back. She was, after all, asking to see the Paragon, and he was well known for having some really strange friends. "Let him decide," he said. He added with a vicious, toothy grin, "and, when it turns out to be a lie, your axe is still sharp." They did, however, insist on giving her a temporary brand, to mark her as a surfacer. She couldn't have cared less if they had dipped her in ink. It was all irrelevant foolishness.
When Faren Brosca heard who was on her way through the quarter, he laughed uproariously. It was true then, she'd done it, and had come to him as she promised. Alistair had written to say that she had docked at Denerim. The King's couriers were swift, and his letter had arrived some time ago. In the letter, Alistair had said how shocked he was at her appearance, how terrible she looked. Faren had shaken his head in disbelief when he read that. Did he really think she would be like one of his petal soft princesses? After all she had been through?
He liked Alistair; he was a good man in a fight and knew about darkspawn, but by the Ancestors… Sometimes, he was like a baby who fell into a bag of tits, and screamed for his mother. Brought up with the roof of a kennel over his head, how awful! Housed and fed by the Chantry, outrageous! And now, forced to be King, and live in a palace! In my neighbourhood, he would have been dead meat before his stones dropped.
Faren turned when he heard her footfall at the door. He waved away the disappointed guards and, as they clomped off, he took her measure. She wasn't as old as he'd feared, there was grey in her hair, but this was no wizened hag. All her limbs seemed to work as they should, although there was extensive scarring. And, of course, she was blind, her eye sockets empty. Poured into every orifice, while she screamed. In truth, his mother was almost as ravaged as this, and had done a lot less for him.
She spoke, her vocal cords raw and raspy. "I know i… you are there, I can hear you breathing."
He stepped forward, arms wide to embrace her. They closed around impossibly soft skin, he kissed her impossibly soft cheek. "Welcome home, Shayle."