(Disdain) All Glittering Gold
She takes only one thing with her when she is exiled to the Deep Roads, only one thing besides the clothes on her back and the weapons at her sides, and by the Stone, she cannot remember how she came by it. Gorim must have slipped it into her hand as he said goodbye, as he pledged forever loyalty to her, but she cannot remember him doing so, and that bothers her.
But she does not let herself think on it for long, for soon there are rather more important things to think of, like darkspawn and archedemons and Joining ceremonies, whatever those are. The Grey Wardens are kind, at least, and aside from the one Warden's question at the beginning, no one makes any mention of her past to her. For that, she is grateful, even if it is more difficult for she herself to forget, what with the lack of solid Stone overhead and the empty nothingness there instead.
And then Ostagar happens, and nothing else in her life is easy anymore, so why should this be? They're living day by day, on the road or in cities, never willing to let down their guards, for fear of the darkspawn or Loghain's men finding them. She no longer lives for herself—she lives for her companions, for her people, for the innocents that will die if this Blight is not stopped. There is no time for her own needs, no time for her to collapse and weep for her losses—she must press on, she must be the hero they are all looking for.
She must be the Warden.
But for one thing, one thing only, she makes herself make time. She might no longer be Lady Aeducan, favored of King Endrin and second in line for the throne of Orzammar; she might have been stricken from the Memories of her people, and she might no longer exist; but for all that, she still knows herself. She still knows who she is.
She is Lady Aeducan, of House Aeducan, Warden Commander of Ferelden's Grey Wardens. And as long as she knows who she is, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.
And that is why she continues to use the gift Gorim gave her, before they both left Orzammar for good—a small bottle full of her favorite golden eye powder.
So every morning, as she rises with the unfamiliar sun, she takes a moment for herself, just one, and puts on the powder, so she will always remember who she is.
~.~
Dwarves love many precious metals and ores, but none so more than lyrium and gold. Each has its own special appeal, of course, but if pressed, all Dwarves would admit to loving gold more, on the whole, even if only by a small amount. And that, of course, is why only the royal family is allowed to wear gold as decorations other than jewelry, so that everyone will know their status.