A story of hope and family. I was intrigued by the idea of 'what would happen to Alistair who doesn't have duty as the king to cling to after the Blight took his love'. Since I like to think hope is more vital to life than even love, this story was born of that idea. This story has been previously posted on the Bioware boards but that was sans beta reading. Cadsuane has helped me tighten the narrative and improved the telling for posting here.

My thanks to Cadsuane for her exemplary Beta reading skills and thanks to Xanderpein for being able to bounce ideas off of for this tale and for the male perspective. Thanks to Bioware for their wonderful story and game world, they own all rights to this tale, I just borrowed their world and people to write my story.

After the Dawn

Chapter One

Michieri blended into her surroundings as Granger had taught her. With her nondescript gray cloak, no one noticed her slight frame moving amongst the throng in the marketplace. Shooting a furtive glance toward Sergeant Kylon, who was standing at his post near Wade's Emporium, she moved between people and stalls, trying to blend in. As long as no one got too violent, he tended to look the other way when someone got pick pocketed. Not that he was corrupt, mind you—she felt sure he wasn't on Granger's payroll—but he knew that it was pointless to get into it with a petty thief like her unless it got violent, which she tried to avoid as much as possible.

Selecting her mark, she moved into position. He was being mobbed by several children and really didn't notice her moving closer. Her focus narrowed down to the purse at his belt. Drawing her little thigh dagger out, she prepared to cut the strings holding it. It was a tiny thing really—just a paring knife that in kinder times her mother had used to peel apples for her pies, but it was quite sharp and did the job readily. She tried to slip away in the press of people, but he caught her movements and raced after her.

Running into the alley in front of the Wonders of Thedas, she slipped up over the little fence between the store and the warehouse, but she wasn't fast enough. He caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, pinning it behind her. Pain shot into her shoulder, making her cry out, and he grabbed back the purse she had stolen.

"Little sneak thief!" he growled. "I'll take what's mine now."

"Please! Please don't hurt me!" she gasped. "I'm just so hungry. My little brother and I haven't had very much to eat since the arl's guards killed our parents in the riots!"

"The riots…?" He jerked away her cloak to reveal deep auburn hair and delicately pointed ears. "An elf." Then his voice hardened, "And a thief, no less."

"Only out of necessity," she pleaded, looking imploringly at him, liquid green eyes brimming with tears.

He closed his eyes, his face etched with pain.

"And this brother…does he even exist? Do I want to know?"

"Do you?" she repeated. "Does it matter? I'm starving. There's not enough food to go around or money to buy it for that matter. A girl's got to eat!"

She took a closer look at her captor. He was actually sort of cute in a scruffy, needs a shave, kind of way. He had dark blonde hair pulled back at the nape of his neck with a leather tie and the beginnings of a beard a shade or two darker starting on his face. The world weary hazel eyes pulled her in though. His expression reminded her of some of the faces she'd seen in the Alienage, something she hadn't expected on a human. He seemed so unhappy. There was also the nagging sensation that she thought she might know him.

His grip eased and she tried to slip out. Shaking his head, he pulled her along behind him. "It's to Sergeant Kylon for you. You won't pull this again."

"Please, please no. Don't do this. They'll hang me. Is it so wrong to just want a little something to eat? Is starvation enough of a crime to warrant death?"

She was bluffing, of course. She knew Kylon wouldn't do anything. She wasn't worth the effort. His hazel eyes seemed to burn straight into her soul as he stood regarding her. Michieri squirmed under his scrutiny. She knew she was too thin, barely on the living side of starvation and, for once, this worked in her favor. His hand completely encircled her wrist easily.

"All right," he finally assented. "Take these."

He pulled out several silvers and put them in her hand then released her. She stood there dumbfounded, but he'd already turned and was walking away. Looking down at the coins in her hand, she couldn't believe her rare luck. Not only had he not taken her to Kylon, but he'd given her coins. There was enough for several days of meals for her and her imaginary brother.

"Why would he do that?" she asked aloud. And could she get more? she wondered.

She followed him, watching as he bought some provisions and stowed them on his huge mount. Then he mounted and rode for the gates. Indecision tore at her. If she followed him, it promised to be a way out of the rut she had been in since her parents died two years ago in the riots. She'd been on her own at the tender age of eight, trying to survive any way she could. It hadn't been easy, but she couldn't think of many ten year olds who could take care of themselves as well as she could now.

At first, she had made a few bits begging, but then she had learned from Granger how to sneak and grab what she wanted. That knowledge had come at a price she was no longer willing to pay. Lately, the nature of her dealings with the rogue had changed timbre to something a bit more menacing. Granger was getting more and more insistent that she bring in more money, hinting at "other things" she could do that were more "pleasant" than cutting purses. Judging from the hollow eyes of the older girls he had under his thumb, she knew it was a life she had to escape. If she could find a patron who was as soft a touch as this man, she wouldn't have to run and hide and give over most of her day's earnings to Granger.

That he was leaving the city was even better. This was her opportunity to escape and it was leaving out the gates as she watched. Her mind suddenly made up for her, she raced after him.

He was several hundred yards on the road leading out of the city when she caught up to him. He pulled on the reins and looked down at her.

"Please, take me with you!" she begged.

"I can't," he replied. "You should go back into the city."

"I don't eat much and I don't take up much space. I can clean," she hastened to make her case, ignoring his head shaking. "Please, I promise I won't be a bother. I can't stay in the city anymore. I would rather honest work than stealing."

"No, go back to the city. The wilds are no place for a little girl."

"Please, I can't. Please take me with you. You don't know what it's like always having to fight for what little scraps I can find."

He stopped, closed his eyes and she held her breath, biting her bottom lip and pleading with her eyes.

"Maker's breath, I can barely take care of myself let alone a child," he muttered.

"Then I'll have to take care of you," she said, grinning, sensing he was bending.

"Can you cook?"

"I can cook." The words were hesitant. Sort of, she added in her head.

He chuckled at her reticence and she grinned.

"And what of your "brother?" Won't he miss you?"

She shook her head. "No, he won't."

"Somehow I thought not."

He pulled her up behind him on the horse and turned westward again.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Michieri, ser."

"I'm Alistair. Pleased to meet you, Michieri."