Hello! Dragon Age has been one of my favorite games to date, and I've been writing this fic for a few years now, in between my other fics. I've returned to it recently with the announcement of the next game (*heart burns hole through chest as it attempts to flee from the inevitable heartbreak*) and I figured I may as well share my stories as we wait.

This story is only slightly AU, with changes to the timeline and a few other changes here and there to accommodate my OC. This fic spans all three current games (Origins, 2, and Inquisition), starting somewhere in the beginning of 2 and continuing into Inquisition.

I have written many more chapters to this story already, and I am going through and editing them as I post, so it is safe to say that I will post a new chapter every weekend.

I have so enjoyed writing this story, please enjoy reading it, and please offer any thoughts/questions/critiques/suggestions in the comments! Have a wonderful day and take care of yourself!

O

O

O

O

O

A cold mist had rolled into the dark city, like a foreboding greeting. The tall, shackled buildings creaked in the wind, the only sound save for the scream of a mouse being hunted by a stray cat. Lyra's first impression of the place was less than inviting.

She crouched on top of the buildings, blending in to the darkness, thanks to her attire. She shifted slightly to keep her legs from falling asleep, her toes in her light leather boots feeling the shingles of the tilted roof she was on. Her hood fell over her eyes, the bottom half of her face feeling the wind of the night chill.

The dark was the deep, silent darkness of late night, when only the wind had the courage to show its face; not like the comforting darkness of late evening, early night. Those were still full of a possibility of action. Lyra's night had already had plenty of action in it, enough for a couple of nights.

More like a whole month of nights.

She felt the fatigue weigh on her senses and her muscles, but she focused on her breathing to keep her alert.

The last thing I can afford right now is to become complacent on the night of an assassination.

She reached over her shoulder and silently pulled an arrow from her quiver, the feather fletchings feeling comfortable and familiar in her fingers. Her bow lay next to her on the roof, strung and ready, like it had been for the last hour or so that she had been waiting here.

My information shouldn't be wrong.

The note she had pickpocketed from the noble a few hours ago was a scrawled letter, describing the route his men were to take on their way to the slums.

The thought of the noble and his note made her brow furrow into a glare.

The note instructed his men to search the poor district of Kirkwall for a young homeless girl, who wouldn't be missed by anyone ' of importance'. The intentions the noble had for the girl were evident, and thus was Lyra's motivation for looking into him and his men and waiting on a roof in the deep night.

I haven't been in this city for more than a week and I already can't keep my nose out of other people's' business.

Lyra stroked the feathers on her favorite arrow.

Well, as long as you keep your business away from kidnapping young girls, I'll leave you greedy rich bastards alone.

A shift in the wind made Lyra look up from her arrow and down to the street. Her eyes were adjusted to the dark, but the bright flame from someone's torch illuminated the street with its flickering shadows. 10 men followed the one holding the torch, and they moved along the street quickly, knowing their destination. All were heavily armored and heavily armed.

Three with bows, four with swords, three with daggers, and the one holding the torch has a mace.

Lyra's instincts flashed awake in an instant, and she crouched lower as she readied her bow. Her favorite arrow was cocked into position, and she calmly pulled it back silently, aiming with confidence toward the man with the torch.

Take out their sight.

"Stop right there, humans." A deep voice caught her attention and stayed her hand, drawing both her gaze and the gazes of the men she was about to kill towards an alley where the voice came from. A single male elf walked out into the light confidently, his armor advanced and his bright white hair illuminated. He carried a very large two handed sword, and Lyra could see from where she was hidden on the rooftops the amount of anger emitting from the man.

"You all were about to head to the slums to kidnap an innocent girl."

The accusation was lined with hatred. The man with the torch stepped forward.

"That's none of your business, elf." The man pulled out his mace. "And so what if we are? Back off or I'll bring our boss your head, along with a dirty bitch from the slums." Lyra watched him shake his head. "Though I doubt our boss would care about some stupid knife-ear."

The insult physically affected the elf, and she watched as his veins seemed to glow bright blue. Her eyes widened as she continued to watch silently.

Magic?

"I was going to let you go if you had turned around." The elf said in a calm voice as he unsheathed his giant sword, stepping forward on bare feet. "But now I'm glad I'll get to kill you."

The elf darted towards the group of men and swung his weapon in an arc before the men could react. A loud wet crunch emitted as the sword landed into the side of the neck of the man holding the torch, instantly killing him and causing the torch to fall to the ground. The moving light source caused a flurry of shadows as the rest of the men grabbed their weapons and yelled angrily. The elf swung his sword again and killed two men in one swing, and the others tried to compose themselves and spread out away from the elf's range.

Lyra crouched, poised, ready to shoot in an instance, watching the events curiously.

And here I thought this would be a boring assassination.

The elf managed to kill two more and received a few blows to his arms and chest, but he moved with the grace of a skilled sword fighter. Lyra watched as the men circled the elf and took turns striking. He defended himself well enough, but Lyra could see that his defense would soon wear down.

One of the men backed away from the circle and strung his bow, while the elf received a few more blows from the circling men. Lyra furrowed her brow.

This is bad for him.

She watched him kill one more man and injure another, but the archer drew his bow and aimed at the elf when he was turned away.

Without thinking, Lyra pulled an arrow back and released it in a split second, killing the archer instantly by an arrow through his neck. She immediately darted to the side on the dark rooftop, moving to stay hidden.

The elf glanced over at the fallen archer and made the connection, before glancing up to the rooftops to where she was. The distraction gave the soldier behind him an advantage and he advanced with a raised sword.

Lyra pulled another arrow out and shot that man instantly, saving the elf's life once again.

Three more men were left, with one injured. The elf warded them off and Lyra shot down two more when they were behind him. He stabbed the last one through the chest and pulled his sword from him as he fell, making the street silent once again.

Lyra watched from the shadows.

The elf looked around at the carnage before looking around at the surrounding rooftops, knowing his helper was somewhere up there.

"Thank you, stranger. I had thought I could take them on my own." He spoke into the chilly night air.

Lyra watched him silently, regarding him from the shadows. She sensed no ill intent from him, despite having just killed many men.

I understand why he killed them all. For the same reason I was going to.

"You are a skilled marksman, stranger. You have a good taste for killing evil men." He crossed his arms and continued to look around the rooftops. "And we made a good team. We could work together."

Lyra blinked at him as he glanced around for her one last time. He sighed when there was no response, and he turned to the alley where he had come from. He strolled away from the carnage and entered into the alleyway when Lyra made a decision.

I'm new here. And alone. I should know some people.

She crept to the edge of the building she was on and quietly jumped down, landing softly on the cobblestone that was quickly spreading with blood. She called out, her voice strained from being unused for hours.

"How did you know these men would be here?"

She watched the elf stop in his tracks and turn around quickly, startled from her silent approach. His eyes shined green under strong brows. She felt him regard her curiously before responding.

"Heard a tip from a friend." He watched her apprehensively, as she was watching him. "How did you know?"

Lyra shifted from foot to foot, and she slipped her bow onto her back. "I found a note in a noble's pocket."

The elf nodded. "Lord Balgruff." His brow furrowed and an angry glint entered his eyes. "Notorious in the poorer parts for abducting young women and eventually dumping their bodies into the sea."

Lyra blinked at him. "Looks like he's next on my list, then."

The elf looked up at her with a doubtful look. "I've been trying to weaken his forces for weeks. He just has an endless amount of men."

"I don't need to kill more of his men to kill him." She looked up at the sky, seeing the darkness begin to lighten with the looming dawn. She needed to find a safe place to sleep, as her exhaustion from travel had really begun to catch up to her. "Do you know of a cheap but reliable inn around here?"

He shook his head. "All the trustworthy ones are in the upper city, and they won't take you past midnight." She nodded and sighed, looking around without really seeing anything as she thought. He cocked his head at her. "I owe you one. I have a place in the alienage." With that he turned and continued through the alley. Lyra was frozen with uncertainty, and he noticed and turned. "I'm Fenris. Freelance warrior."

Lyra breathed, calming herself, and began to walk towards him. He wasn't tall for an elf; she had an inch on him, but she could tell he had spent a life of fighting from the lean muscle and comfortability he carried his armor and sword with.

"I'm Lyra, traveling rouge." She continued until she was next to him. "I wouldn't take your offer if it wasn't so late. But I need rest, so thank you."

Fenris nodded and continued through the alley, with Lyra following. They traveled through a network of back alleys and roads until they descended steps into the elven alienage. She could tell where they were from the very large tree that was in the center of the courtyard, the first living plant she had seen since entering the city. Fenris led her to a small door on the side of the buildings, just as the sky began to lighten from the early hour. They slipped into the small living room with a couch and a rug, with the other wall being the kitchen. An open door led to a bedroom. Very few possessions were in this small living space, except for the essentials.

Fenris took his sword off of his back and set it onto a weapon holder near the door. He began to unbuckle the multitude of buckles that clasped the pieces of his armor together, his movement weary and showing he, too, was exhausted. This helped her relax a bit more and she slipped her quiver off and hung it with her bow on the weapon rack.

Fenris yawned as he kicked his boots off and he walked over to a closet to retrieve a blanket and a pillow. He lightly threw them on the couch and met Lyra's eyes with his tired gaze.

"Need anything, I'll be in the other room." He turned and was about to head into the bedroom when he glanced at her over his shoulder one last time. The corner of his mouth lifted. "Thanks again, stranger."

He closed the door quietly and left Lyra to the very inviting couch. She took off the rest of her leather armor and kicked her boots off as well. For the first time since a few days ago, she lifted her hood from her face, exposing her nose and eyes. She finally removed the hood completely, exposing her natural weakness, her bright red hair, and her identity, her elven ears to the air.

Feeling bare, she crawled into the warm couch and snuggled into the soft blanket, appreciative of the turn of events but also cautious of this strong stranger whose house and couch she was about to sleep in.

My instincts say I can trust him.

Not that that was enough for good, but for now, with Lyra physically fatigued from weeks of travel, it was enough.

Closing her eyes, her mind succumbed to a restful sleep.

O

O

O

O

O

A rustle of metal on metal roused her awake, but not too quickly. She blinked a few times and focused her attention on the backside of Fenris, the white-haired elf, moving pots and pans in the kitchen. Or, well, what made up the kitchen.

The kitchen was nothing more than a wall with a counter, with a small fridge on the side. It seemed to have all of the essentials however, like a stove and an oven and a sink, but it was compact into a tight space.

Lyra's couch was actually in the same room as the 'kitchen', because it looked like the whole house was made up of only a few rooms.

Lyra blinked some more as she heard the water faucet turn on and she focused on the elf. He stood relaxed with his back to her, his attire only a shirt with holes in it and some baggy sweatpants. Now up close to him, she could clearly see blue lines etched all across his body, reminding her heavily of her own Vallaslin that sprawled across her body, but his patterns did not look Dalish; foreign, though.

How curious.

She yawned and sat up on the couch, pulling the warm blanket closer around her. Fenris glanced at her over his shoulder, and she could feel him watching her.

"I had no idea you were an elf. Or that you were Dalish." He spoke quietly. He continued preparing something on the counter. "I guess it makes sense though, why you would come to the alienage with me." Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't I come to this alienage if I was a human?" She asked. Fenris glanced at her again.

"Humans don't come here. They wouldn't lower themselves to do that."

Lyra frowned.

This struggle is in every country, I see.

"Why was it a surprise that I am elven, then?"

"Because I can't imagine why any traveling elf would choose to come to this… city." He turned around and leaned against the counter then, meeting her eyes directly. "Especially a Dalish." His brow furrowed. "You have all you could need in your camp in the north. Any elf here in this alienage would kill to be able to live in the safety of the Dalish." His frown deepened to a glare. "If you would ever accept us elves who aren't born sacred like you."

Lyra raised her brows. His defensive expression questioned her.

The Dalish clan here is not kind to the city elves.

"I do not come from that clan in the north. I have never even met them." Lyra kept his gaze, reasoning with him. "I was born in a clan, but I haven't lived with them for years. I left them for the very reason you harbor hard feelings for the clan here."

Fenris looked at her in surprise, and a fair bit of disapproval left his gaze. Lyra shook her head and chuckled a bit.

"Believe me, I am no representation of any Dalish clan." She sighed and raised a hand to her face. Her finger traced along the lines of the dark green tree tattoo that had been on her face since before she could remember. "But one does not choose their origin."

He watched her for another moment, processing her words.

"Where do you come from, then?" His voice had lost all of its harshness and had returned to a more relaxed, curious tone. His green eyes searched hers as she replied.

"I come from Ferelden." She responded softly, wondering what reaction she would get from him. His own eyebrows rose.

"Ferelden? You survived the Blight."

Lyra nodded. Fenris remained quiet, then turned back to the counter and finished pouring something. He turned with two steaming cups and he padded barefoot over to the couch she was still sitting on. He held out a cup and she took it gratefully, and she scooted over so he could sit next to her on the couch. There didn't seem to be any other seating.

"Thank you," she said before taking a sip of the warm and soothing tea. Fenris nodded and took a sip of his.

"I don't blame you for leaving that war-covered country." He said softly, looking down at his tea before glancing up at her, almost apologetically. "I would come to this damned city, too."

Lyra felt her mouth lift into a half-smile.

"So far, this city's not so bad. Plenty of scum to kill, and strangers who let me crash on their couch."

Fenris chuckled and relaxed back against the couch, his own mouth turning into a small smile.

"It's not that I think so highly of myself, but I wouldn't accept any offer to spend the night with a stranger again if I were you."

Lyra nodded and sipped her tea.

"Believe me, this is uncommon. If I had not been so entirely exhausted last night from my travels, I would have politely declined." She glanced over at him and felt a small smile tug at her lips. "Where did you get this tea, may I ask?"

Fenris looked up at her and looked down again, scratching his head.

"I, uh… bought it from, the Dalish, when they brought goods here to sell…"

He looked up to see her raise one eyebrow and smile knowingly at him.

"Alright, yes, I may be a bit of a hypocrite, speaking ill of the Dalish, and then, buying their tea…"

Lyra chuckled good naturedly.

"I do not blame you; one of the few things the Dalish are still good for is their tea."

Fenris chuckled back, glancing at her.

"You barely have an accent. You've lived away from them for very long?"

"A few years. Enough time around humans to adapt to their accent."

Fenris scoffed, looking down at his tea and shaking his head. Lyra watched him sideways.

"Where are you from?"

This question caused his frown to deepen, and his voice to deepen even more than his usual baritone.

"The Teventer Imperium. Hell's very own asshole."

Lyra stifled a laugh with her hand, and Fenris glanced over at her, his frown lessening and a smile appearing. She smiled apologetically at him.

"I've yet to make the trip. Haven't found a good enough reason to."

"I never want to return. But I'll have to, one day."

He finished his tea and stood from the couch, moving the few feet to the kitchen. Lyra didn't press him for details; she could tell his past was a heavy one.

We have that in common.

"I'm making a food run today, so I don't have much for now. I just have bread, if that's okay."

"Thank you, Fenris. I really appreciate your hospitality. But I have a few rations from my travels left, so I will no longer take advantage of you." Lyra joined him at the counter and joined her empty cup with his in the sink, lightly touching him on the arm. He met her gaze. "May I keep in touch with you? You were right; we make a good team. And Lord Balgruff needs a foot up his ass."

The corner of his mouth lifted, and his brow softened from its usual tension.

"You're not a stranger anymore. This alienage doesn't have the friendliest neighbors, but you are welcome to use the well for water anytime." He turned towards her and leaned against the counter. "Where do you plan on heading now?"

Lyra cocked her head as she thought. "I need to replenish my supplies and repair my armor and weapons, and after that, I suppose I will try and find a landlord willing to rent out a hole in the wall to an unknown stranger."

Fenris nodded.

"Hightown will have merchants and craftsmen you need, a bit pricey but worth the money. The landlady here in the alienage is an old woman in the far corner. She doesn't speak much, but seems kind enough; forgiving, of the other families here, who can't always pay the rent."

Lyra smiled at him and nodded, thankful for the information. "I plan to visit the same brothel I found the nobles with loose pockets to search for further clues of this Lord and his dealings." She turned towards the door and began to strap her leather armor on. She glanced up to see Fenris watching her. "I'll stop by when I get new information."

She stood with her armor on, and fastened her quiver and bow on her back. Fenris stood at the counter, his startling white hair and blue-white tattoos looking out of place in the cramped, dark-lit hovel.

"I plan to meet some friends later today, and we will scout out the slums for any clues." He left the counter and approached her, passing her to reach the covered window near the door. He parted the curtain an inch and peered outside for a moment, before closing it and turning back to her.

Lyra reached behind her and lifted her hood, covering her hair, ears, and tattoos, and hooding her eyes. "I will see you later, then."

Fenris nodded. "See you later." He spoke softly, though she could hear him clearly due to their close proximity.

She smiled at him as she opened the door, letting in the afternoon light, and his brow softened as he returned a small smile. She entered the community of the elven alienage, looking much different in the sunlight. The large oak was the center of the courtyard, its leaves reaching almost to the buildings surrounding it, casting the cobblestone into a spotty shade that shifted with the wind. She saw to her left the well Fenris had mentioned, and across the courtyard, the home of the landlady.

She breathed in deeply, only coming to quickly regret it; she breathed in a heavy stench of waste, the telltale scent of a poor community. She lowered her hood and headed for the landlady.

O

O

O

O

O

"Not every man who brings a woman home intends to sleep with her, dwarf." Fenris scowled at Varric, who for some reason, found their exchange humorous.

"Oh, come on. Tell me, the details. A mysterious, dark, cloaked woman swoops in and saves your ass in the middle of the night, and you take her home and thank her in the way you knew you could! Hell, I couldn't write a better fiction than that myself, elf."

Fenris sighed and glared at the dwarf, wishing Hawke had brought along anyone other than him.

Well. Perhaps except for the damned mages.

"I think elves need to, I don't know, fall in love and pray to a tree together first or something," Isabella said, eyeing Fenris with her annoying flirtatious smile. Fenris looked away and sighed again.

Why did Hawke have to date her. Nothing better than the boss's girlfriend flirting with you.

"Both of you, leave me alone, and focus on the job Hawke gave us." He scowled at them, electing a chuckle from both of them. He stood from the curb they were sitting on, down in a corner of the deepest darkest nitches of the slums. Fenris looked around, wishing Hawke would return. These two loosen up when he isn't around.

Varric leaned over to whisper to Isabelle, just loud enough so that Fenris could here.

"Poor guy probably couldn't get it up," causing her to giggle.

Fenris was about to make a retort when the deep, slightly rough voice of their leader interrupted.

"Any leads?" The short question caused the three to look up at the approaching Hawke. His words were always full of intent, his bright blue eyes always focused on their task at hand. He brought the group back from their antics.

Fenris shook his head. "No, the people down here are either too scared or too hungry to respond with anything that helps."

Hawke nodded, not surprised. He paused and looked around himself, lost in thought. "These people need medical help, they need food. They need hope."

Isabelle stood from the curb and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You can't save everyone, Aedan."

Hawke's frown lessened and he nodded.

"I know. There's just so much to do still in this city."

"You need to remember that you don't owe this shit city anything."

Fenris looked up at the couple then, the tone of Isabella's voice drawing his attention. The two shared a look that led him to believe that this was a touchy subject in their relationship. He spoke up to break the silence.

"We still have my contact. She should get in touch by the end of the night."

"Is she trustworthy?" Hawke asked Fenris, and he nodded in response.

"She saved my life a few times last night without even knowing me. Could've killed me in my sleep. I trust her."

Hawke nodded and set off towards the higher city, the three of them following in tow. He looked back at Fenris with a small smile on his face.

"You're not usually one to trust easily, Fenris. I'm surprised you know this woman so well after just one night." He raised a brow at him, and Fenris sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Not you too, Hawke." Hawke laughed lightly and Varric and Isabella joined in, and the team continued on through the streets with their friendly banter, unknowingly being watched by an elf from the rooftops.

Lyra watched them leave, a small smile on her lips. She shook her head at the group's jokes, and felt more comfortable now knowing that the group of people she would start to work with to bring down a corrupt and evil nobleman was a group full of good people. She felt a tinge of guilt for spying on a group of potential friends, but too many instances of betrayal in her past had made her cautious, to say the least.

She looked down at the key she had been holding in her hand, the key to her new rented property. The landlady had been nice, and by coincidence had given Lyra the key to the apartment right next to Fenris'.

At least I'll know one neighbor. She thought comfortingly. Traveling around this large city full of countless people had made Lyra feel lonely, since she prefers forests with more trees than people. I feel lonelier in a place full of more people. How does that make any sense?

She shook her head and stood from her comfortable crouch on the roof. The sky looked clear, and the slight breeze was pleasant. Lyra smiled to herself. I won't need to worry about the weather tonight; I'll finally have my own roof over my head!

She lightly ran across the close roofs, her leather boots softly padding against the shingles. She watched the world of humans and an occasional elf down below her on the streets, oblivious that their days were being observed. Glancing up at the sun told her it was past midday, and she registered that she had a few more hours before the bars and brothels would open. Bars and brothels full of lords and ladies with loose pockets and heavy coin.

The tinge of guilt hit her once again as she felt regret for pickpocketing the occasional coin from strangers, but she reminded herself that she only stole from the rich who would rather spend their money on whores or weapons. Lyra had realized with a start that she recognized the leader of Fenris' group when she first spotted them; the tall bearded human with dark hair that carried a large sword, named Hawke. She had seen him walking into a bar a few nights ago. From her first glance at him, she could tell he had wealth from the quality of his armor and weapons, and that he held a certain status from his gait. Lyra had immediately singled him out as a good target, but had stopped short when he stopped outside the bar in front of a homeless elf. The elf looked old and unhealthy, and he was curled up a few feet from the dark doorway on the cobblestone. Hawke had paused before going in to bend down and give a few coins to the man.

It was Lyra's personal policy to never steal from people who seemed to be good men or women.

I am fortunate to find kind people in a city that seems to lack such.

She continued on her way, making her way to the alienage in short time, from taking the close roofs the whole way and avoiding the crowd. She dropped down lightly by grabbing windowsills and protruding bricks in a small alleyway, and pulled her hood lower as she blended into the people on the street. She made her way down into the alienage square, nose scrunching at the smell of waste.

I will have to see about that.

Two small elven children scampered across her path before looking up at her fearfully, no doubt scared at the strange, dark, well armed, hooded figure entering into their neighborhood. She looked down at them and met their eyes with her kind ones, and she gave them a smile and a wink before walking past the giant tree in the center of the square to enter into her new humble abode.

She glanced behind her at the kids now staring at her curiously before she entered her home.

She walked into her bare room, the kitchen appliances and the couch the only things. The wallpaper was falling off in a corner, the sink had mold, and the whole floor was covered in dust an inch thick.

I love it.

She went to her single pack she had left in the corner and untied the straps. In the very bottom, she dug out a tube of a clay substance, similar to the makeup wealthier people use. This was much thicker. Thick enough to cover her tattoos.

And my disguise begins.

She removed her hood and her leather armor, placing them and her weapons in a neat arrangement on the floor. She owned a single commoner dress, and she slipped it on with her boots. She began to apply the clay onto her face, the feeling familiar. A memory from her past flickered in her mind, but she brushed it away.

If only my Keeper could see me now; covering the pride of my clan.

It should have bothered her more than it did, she admitted, but she had been forced to give up her pride long ago in replacement for survival. A Dalish elf in a human bar is too much of a sight to see, there would be no way she could pickpocket anyone like that.

But a shy, scared elven maid serving drinks? No one ever suspects a thing.

She slipped a couple throwing knives and her two daggers into her boots, and ruffled her hair, making her look more common and poor. She would have to look desperate for what she was about to do.

O

O

O

O

O

"Thank you, sir, thank you, I won't let you down, I won't-"

"Alright, yes, calm down, sweetheart," The burly man said with his rough voice, but laid a large hand on her shoulder comfortingly. She looked up at him with innocent eyes, and she could feel her charm soften the man even more. "You can start by busing tables and getting to know my customers. My wife should have an old apron in the back." He paused and squeezed her shoulder slightly. "You'll do fine, hun."

She smiled hesitantly and bowed her head submissively, going to do as he asked. She smiled to herself when he left to return to the bar.

Mission successful.

She now had a job at one of the most popular bars in lowtown, known for the various crowd, but also known as the place rich people go to make deals that may or may not be entirely legal.

A dirty place off the Watch's radar full of wealthy pockets. Lyra's dream.

An hour into the busing, the novelty of a new elven maid had died down, and the lords and ladies went back to their chatting and drinking, allowing her disguise to fully take effect. One drunk lord slapped her on the ass as she walked by, and as she skittered away frightened, another lord punched him square in the face, knocking him out, cold. Two men lifted the man and threw him outside, and she was tasked with retrieving the tankard he had firmly gripped in his fist. She bent down outside with him, and while prying the mug out of his fist with one hand, her other slipped into his pocket and pulled money and a few slips of paper, tucking them into her folds casually.

The evening went on, and the later it got, the more intoxicated the men and women got, and the easier the pickings were for her.

Finally, after her first shift was over, she returned the apron, thanked the manager once again, and slipped through the shadows back to the alienage.

She had gotten something. Nothing on paper, but by ear. One lord was boasting about his large recent income from his boss, Lord Balgruff. His friend had tried to shush him, but not before he had said, '…and all my men have to do is wander around in the scums tonight while I'm sleeping and grab a-', before he was quickly hushed by a friend. Lyra had gotten good looks at the two of them, knew where they lived, how much they made, and even what bothered them about their wives. She also knew what drinks they liked.

Fools.

She approached her corner of the alienage, and immediately recognized the bright silver hair illuminated by the moonlight. The green eyes beneath them looked up from his sword on his lap and met hers, a look of mild confusion on his face. Probably at the strange elven maid he had never seen before, approaching him.

She smiled at him and he straightened his posture, watching her.

"Fenris."

His eyes showed he recognized her voice, but his brow furrowed in disbelief.

"…Lyra?"

She nodded as she pulled out her keys and passed him to reach the door next to the one he was leaning on. She unlocked the door and looked down to meet his confusion.

"The landlady was kind. I'll try not to bang on your wall too much."

His eyebrow rose and he made his way to his feet, sheathing his sword.

"I was wondering when the empty place next door would be filled."

She opened the door and waved him inside, closing the door before going immediately to the sink. She washed the clay off of her face before wiping it with a towel. She could hear him settling on the ground against her wall, the one they shared. I will have to look at buying a used couch.

She felt him watch her as she hung the towel on a hook and leaned against the counter to look at him. She paused, seeing the question in his face, and he spoke quietly, the curiosity evident in his voice.

"I…know I've only known you for about 24 hours now, but I would have never guessed the beautiful young woman in front of me was the dark and ominous shadow that saved my life."

His voice was void of flirtation; he said the compliment like it was fact. Nevertheless, it still caused her to blush.

She smiled slightly and tilted her head in thanks before beginning to pull the strands of her red hair back from her face into a braid down the middle of her head.

"This disguise is going to be where I get most of my information from now. The Hanged Man bar. Ever been there?"

Fenris scoffed. "Yes. My dwarven companion takes up residence there, as well as our leader's lover." He peered over at her, regarding her in a different light. "Did you learn anything tonight?"

She nodded as she finished her tight braid. "Yes. A group of men are going to kidnap another girl tonight. I am not sure when."

Fenris became alert as she turned around to her kitchen. She reached up into the cupboard above her sink. She pulled her leather armor and her bow and arrows out, and faced Fenris again.

"I assume you want to stop them," he said as he watched her pull off her dress. He averted his eyes as she idly changed in front of him, and with a start she remembered not all elves are Dalish. Not everyone is as comfortable about their bodies in small clothes as her culture is. Oops.

She quickly outfitted herself as she responded. "Not…quite."

This made him look up at her in question, and she continued.

"I want to save the poor girl. Undoubtedly. But I also want this to end sooner rather than later." She strapped her quiver onto her back silently and she raised her hood to cover her hair, ears, and eyes. "I want to follow them. See where they head, which house, with how many guards. And then shoot my arrows into the sorry bastards' eyes and bring the girl home."

Fenris was silent as she reached down to remove her daggers from her boots and place them in the sheath on her back, and he stood and rolled his neck out. She watched him, and his silence.

"Do you think my plan is too risky?" She asked seriously, willing to change it if he thought so. He met her eyes and a corner of his mouth lifted.

"…No. I like your plan. I'm just…" He looked away and scratched his arm, searching for words. "…Used to following an idealist."

Your hero and leader, Hawke.

She closed her eyes and nodded.

I was once a hero. Oh how some stars can fall.

"You know my plan, but I quite often screw the plan should I need to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if while we are following them and the girl, they start to hurt her in any way, I will not hesitate to kill them then and there to save her the pain and find another way to track them back."

His eyes softened and he nodded in agreement. "Shall we play spy, then?"

Lyra smiled. "Let's play spy."

She turned to head out when she heard him chuckling from behind her, and she looked at him over her shoulder.

"You know, most people keep food in their kitchen cupboards, not weapons," his voice teased. She winked at him.

"Give me some time."

O

O

O

O

O

Fenris hadn't had a long chance to think through the last 24 hours yet. To think about the mysterious and dangerous rogue who blends into shadows easier than Varric puts down beer, and how she turned out to be a very interesting character. Full of secrets, and full of skills.

Well. We all have secrets, I guess.

He couldn't hear her at all as she snaked her way up a wall like a bloody rat, all the way to the roof. He looked up to see her hooded face peer over the side at him, and she gave him a signal. He turned and continued down the street along the buildings until he reached the corner. She gave him the signal for halt from her roof, and he lounged against the wall and waited until the coast was clear.

What an efficient method. Now we get both the benefits of a spymaster and a warrior, just by her scouting ahead for me.

He found he easily trusted this stranger, what with her honest eyes and her presence of calm. How can eyes look like they are about to burst with secrets, but at the same time, look at you with honest intent? The way his guard fell around her made him even more suspicious, but her intentions were clear.

Find the bastard who's kidnapping children, and kill any who get in their way.

Equivalent to his intentions.

He jumped slightly when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, and he glared at her when he realized she had climbed down. Maker, she is too silent.

"Yes?" He asked quietly.

"The group of men have stopped, just around the corner. We are getting lower into the slums; less and less roofs for me to hide on. We'll continue on foo-"

Before she could finish, a high pitch scream filled the silence of the night, and Fenris saw a flash of worry in Lyra's eyes that was quickly replaced with anger. Her hand flashed out and grabbed his wrist that was reaching for his sword, and then she released him to dart to the edge of the building to peer around the corner.

"Alrighty now, come on, come on, hun, nice and easy. We won't have to hurt you if you stop flailing your arms, girl."

Fenris crept slowly behind Lyra and he peered around the corner above her, seeing a group of five men holding torches and the largest one gripping the arm of a small, bony girl, not older than 10.

Anger began to boil his blood, and he bit down hard, trying to stay calm as the cries of the girl got louder.

"Please, no…"

The man lifted her over his shoulder and she fell silent, her whimpering the only sound in the night, aside from Fenris' angry breathing. He felt something push on the plates on his chest, and he looked down at Lyra, her blue-green eyes peering at him from under her hood. Her gaze said more than any words could. The pain in them told him she understood his anger, and she shared it. Her hand placed firmly on his chest reminded him they had a job to do, and he couldn't lose his cool or they would lose their only lead. He sighed heavily and nodded to her once, and she removed her hand from his chest and turned to look back around the corner.

The group of men began to head up along another road, towards the East side of lowtown, and Lyra watched them as they turned a corner before following quickly after them, Fenris on her heels and trying his best to be silent.

They followed the group of men all of the way to the edge of Hightown, and none of them had harmed the girl yet, and so they had remained hidden. At least now we know the area where the girls are being taken. That's much more than before.

He felt something brush his shoulder, and he looked and saw the edge of Lyra's foot as she lightly scaled the building they were next to. He peered at the group from around the corner of this building, and they had seemed to stop before a small slanted door on the side of a building that seemed to lead down to the basement. Worry that they would lose them filled his mind, and he looked up to where he figured Lyra would be and saw her looking back at him, and they both understood that this was far enough.

He nodded to her in understanding, and a second later the soft sound of a silenced bowstring being released was followed by the slice of an arrow going through one of the men's neck and the thud as he hit the ground. Another two men were killed similarly before Fenris got to them, the one carrying the girl yelling and the other one drawing his sword. He felt his blood boil from the rage and from adrenaline, and he roared a taunt to them as he ran to them. Fenris easily parried the sword man's swing and he knocked him to the ground with his hilt.

"STOP! Stop, or I'll slit this girl's throat!"

Fenris froze where he was, and he watched the frightened last man hold a knife to the crying girl's throat.

"Drop your sword, now, or I swear I'll do it!"

Fenris heard himself growl and he lowered his sword to the ground slowly. Thoughts flew through his head, what should he say, what should he do? He was about to panic when he saw a flash of silver glint on the roof ahead of him, across the street.

How did she get over there so fast?

He knew she would only be seen if she wanted to be seen. She wanted him to see her. Relief flooded through his veins when he watched her draw her bow in his peripherals.

"Where are you taking the girl? I know you are probably getting paid dirt for this; I can make it worth your while," Fenris distracted him. The girl cried silently in the man's headlock; the sight hurt Fenris.

"I aint tellin' you shit, knife-ear, now why don't you- AGH!" He exclaimed and stumbled, an arrow sticking out of his calf. The girl had fallen in his shock, and she crawled away from the man as he looked behind him for the archer Fenris knew he wouldn't see. Fenris felt the lyrium in his veins glow with power, and he clenched his hand into a fist and shoved it into his chest. He felt the unnatural feeling of his beating heart in his hand, and he squeezed, stopping it and killing the man instantly. The satisfaction helped kill some of his anger, and as he looked to the shadows where the girl hid, he felt the rest of it melt away.

He picked up his sword and sheathed it, and he approached her crying form slowly. He stopped when he was 10 feet away, and he knelt down, trying to appear less dangerous.

"Are you alright, girl?" He asked softly, but she only shied away from him more. He sighed and looked around them to check that their surroundings were safe, when he heard Lyra's voice behind him.

"There will probably be more in the cellar." She spoke quietly, and approached him. He looked up at her and she smiled down at him, the first real smile he had seen on her. Her eyes relaxed and smiled at him in such an unguarded way, he blinked up at her in shock. Then as quickly as it had started, she knelt down next to him and she lifted her hood, exposing her identity. Then she spoke to the frightened girl in a soft voice.

"I am so sorry those men took you. But they are gone now. They cannot hurt you."

The girl blinked at her and began to tremble, her frightened tears beginning to fall more freely now that the shock had worn off. Lyra continued as she held out her hand.

"My name is Lyra. Please allow me guide you home." She then loosened some strings on the side of her pack and unrolled a small blanket, before reaching out and setting it on the ground for the girl. "It is cold out. You may have this."

She stared at Lyra for another minute before tentatively crawling forward and taking the blanket. She whispered, "Thank you."

Lyra nodded and gently reached down to help her wrap the blanket around her shoulders before tucking a strand of her dirty hair behind one of her ears. Fenris watched the tenderness exude from his new companion, and he stood and looked around them. He met Lyra's eyes, and he understood that they could not take on whatever was in that cellar, just the two of them, when they needed to help this girl home. Together, they escorted the girl back to the street where they found her, and an old woman fell to her knees in thanks before she wrapped her arms around the girl and carried her off.

Lyra and Fenris returned home silently, the night not yet too late. He invited her in to his place, thinking she probably did not have any food yet.

"Thank you." She smiled at him as he opened the door for her, and they both began to shed layers of weapons and armor. She continued into the silence. "Thank you for all of this, Fenris."

He looked over at her. "I wanted to kill those mongrels as much as you did."

"I mean thank you for trusting me." She said as she folded her leather and set them in piles near the door. She then met his eyes. "I've just moved to a strange new place. A place known for its slavery, of all things. And I do not feel alone, as I had expected." Her eyes were deep wells with a mixture of appreciation and apprehension. He straightened and leveled his gaze at her, unable to look away and unable to think of any words. He swallowed, an unfamiliar tightness in his throat coupled with a clenching of his stomach, neither of which were unpleasant.

I share her apprehension.

And her appreciation.

At his silence, she lowered her gaze and picked up her things, intending to leave. That was when he untied his tongue.

"I'm making a stew."

He said abruptly, and she looked at him over her shoulder, a faint hope in her eyes. He chuckled softly at her obviousness. "I doubt you had time to shop for food. Have some."

With that he looked away and went to work in his kitchen, slightly disturbed at the strange feelings in his body, but also quite intrigued. Why was he suddenly nervous around her? When it had nothing to do with her dangerous skills or secrets?

"Thank you again, Fenris." She said softly as she set her things down and moved towards him. "May I help?"

He nodded and handed her some potatoes and carrots for her to peel and chop, and they went to work in his tiny kitchen, barely enough room for one of them, but they made it work.

We seem to work well as a team in the kitchen as well as in battle.

He was about to mention that when she accidentally pressed against his side as she held two peeled potatoes over the sink to wash.

"Oh, excuse me," she murmured before readjusting to make a little more room on the small counter.

He said nothing as he felt his heartbeat accelerate.

I… am not in danger.

He looked over at her and noticed the tips of her ears were turning red. Her face remained impassive, however. He searched for anything to distract him.

"I have seen the style you wear your hair before, among the Dalish. Does it mean something?"

She looked over at him, slightly surprised, but nodded and explained, turning her attention back to her preparation. "Yes. Many distinguished hunters shave the sides of their heads to remove all the hair from around their ears, to 'improve' their hearing." She scoffed. "It's really rubbish, though. I hear the same as I did before. Mainly just a cultural thing; something you do when the elders deem you an expert hunter."

Fenris smiled at her bluntness and honesty, and she continued.

"I just rather like the feel of it. It's the only reason I haven't changed it since leaving my clan."

"What is it like? To have…a clan?"

She paused and looked over at him, reading the sincerity in his voice and his eyes. She sobered.

"It's actually quite wonderful. To belong to something, to have a place in a community." She continued working. "Until it's no longer."

Fenris could hear her guarded voice, and decided not to press.

"I've never belonged to a community before." He mused, also focusing on cutting the beef, the red meat fresh. "Well, I've belonged to a man, but I hardly guess slavery feels the same."

She paused and he felt her stare at him, but he dreaded her reaction. Everyone was the same; pitying him like he was a hurt puppy.

I don't want your pity.

He was about to say that out loud when she beat him to words.

"Is that fucker dead?"

This startled him, and he also paused, his knife forgotten on the counter. Her two blue-green eyes looked at him with such intensity, he was taken aback. Her gaze was void of pity, but full of something else. Unadulterated anger.

"Uh, no," he stuttered, taken aback by her gaze of hatred. It wasn't aimed at him. "I've been hiding out from him here for a while now, but every now and then a group of his lackeys find me."

He watched her breathe in deeply, and the hand holding her knife relaxed. Her knuckles were white. She looked at him dead in the eyes.

"Next time you hear he's around, you find me. And I'll make sure you deliver whatever death you want on him."

He blinked at her quiet ferocity, and he nodded. She turned her attention back to her work and resumed peeling the potatoes, calming down, and he also resumed his cooking, slightly perturbed and slightly aroused at her intense hatred for his former master, though she had no more information than that.

They finished preparation and they poured all of the ingredients into a large pot, and Fenris lit the stove, setting the stew to cook. He sat down on the couch and sank into the cushion, and Lyra did the same. They sat together and watched their dinner cook for a while, both of them content to relax after the night of work.

"Fenris, I never thought you used magic."

A sour taste entered his mouth. He spat to the side. He growled out his next words in disgust.

"I am no mage."

He tried to not let the glare on his face intensify, but to no avail. The silence droned on until she spoke quietly.

"I was unaware, and insensitive. My curiosity will undo me. Forgive me."

Her soft words made the anger melt away, and he felt the lines on his face relax as he met her eyes with a sigh.

"There is nothing to forgive. These," he gestured to the lines all along his body, "were given to me by my former master. They are lyrium markings, burned into my veins. They give me certain abilities. But they were also a way for my master and his apprentices to control and torture me."

He glanced to her eyes and expected to see pity there, but like last time, he saw only anger. She shook her head and clenched her hands, seeming to want to say something, but keeping her mouth shut. He continued.

"I know they look strange."

"They look beautiful." She responded quietly, and then caught herself, her eyes darting to his. He felt his heart swell from the compliment, and from the adorable embarrassment coming from her expression. The corner of his mouth rose and his eyes relaxed.

"You are the first to think so," he said quietly, watching her cheeks turn pink.

She averted her eyes and struggled for words, her frown and her perplexion contrasting to the cool confidence of her fighting aura. He felt a grin tug on his lips at the amusing sight of this powerful hunter looking so bashful sitting on his couch.

"That was, I wasn't thinking."

"I take no offense."

She nodded but kept her gaze averted. He could read in her expression she was trying to find another topic.

"Will you tell me of your companions?"

He nodded, and looked off into the distance. "Certainly. They are are strange bunch, from drastically different backgrounds. Varric and Isabela spend more hours of the day drunk than sober, and they take up residence in the Hanged Man, you may have seen them. We have a city guard in our group, who also fares from Ferelden; Aveline. We have three mages." He paused to scowl, and Lyra watched tension enter his shoulders. "Bethany is Hawke's sister, she means well. Anders is an abomination, and Merrill is a Dalish blood mage." He sighed deeply, and stood to start filling two bowls with the stew. "We all have come together thanks to Hawke. He comes from Ferelden, like you, but he came here during the first stages of the blight, many months ago." He looked over at her listening and cocked his head. "How did you survive the blight?"

She nodded and breathed in deeply, and her eyes went to a far away place as well. "My story is a very long one, and one that will be very hard to believe."

She prefaced with this, and that got his attention. He sat next to her with the bowls, and they settled with their food, and he focused on her. She breathed in deeply, and cleared her throat. She frowned and he could see a deep well of sadness in her eyes, covered in strength. He hadn't seen her get this emotional before.

"I actually do not know how much I am allowed to tell you," she murmured quietly. "Suffice it to say, I played a role as a sort of, diplomat, in the relations of the separate nations and their alliances, and I fought in the final battle against the archdemon."

He stared at her as she began to eat, and he forced himself to start eating as well. He had never thought she would have been a battle expert and a diplomat to many different races, involved in the battles of the blight against the darkspawn.

Why would I assume she just hid out in a forest? I guess that may be my pre misconception of the Dalish.

"You fought against a dragon?" he asked into the quiet.

"I've fought against a few."

They continued to eat, but he had one last question to ask.

"Why would you not be allowed to tell others of your past?"

She nodded and looked at him apologetically.

"I knew… King Alistair." She swallowed, and he noticed instantly that this was a hard topic for her to talk about. "The Ferelden government is very strict about… the relations of the royalty, and the... information, provided to the public."

He stared at her again, finally understanding how important she must have been to the war, and to Ferelden. To the humans in Ferelden.

"You, knew the noble humans in Ferelden?" he asked, aware that his implications behind this question may be offensive. To his relief, she took no offense.

"Yes. My origin may be quite strange compared to the majority in the government, but as the silver lining to a war that brought tens of thousands of deaths, it forced all the races to come together and bring their strengths and look past their petty squabbles. We would have lost the war, and thus the world as we know it, had we not been able to put aside our arrogance." She finished her stew.

"I had no idea you were so well travelled, or well versed in politics and war." he said quietly, seeing this new companion in a new light. Her ideals were quite radically progressive, especially for a Dalish. And yet she spoke of them with such conviction, he caught himself agreeing with her.

She shook her head and smiled at him. "Now I'm just a travelling rogue with a tendency to get my head into other peoples' business. And, take advantage of kind peoples' couches." He chuckled.

"Welcome to the club. That's all we do at the Hanged Man; determine which greedy bastard in this town deserves a foot in his ass next."

She smiled at him, and her past worries that had been burdening her seemed to lift from her shoulders. "Well, sir, I look forward to working with you."

He felt a grin tug at his mouth, and he nodded. He took her bowl from her and stood to wash the dishes, and he felt her stand as well. He looked over his shoulder as she made to leave, and she glanced at him before reaching the door.

"I'll be just a second, going to get dressed for work."

He nodded and finished cleaning the dishes. He put a pot of water on the stove for tea, and sat on the couch just as she lightly knocked on the door and let herself in.

He glanced up, but his eyes lingered on her startlingly convincing disguise, with her simple dress accentuating her curves, her hair styled modestly, and her face bare of her tattoos. He had to actively remind himself of who she really was; a strong and experienced fighter, and not as she so convincingly appeared as; weak, submissive, and innocent.

She joined him on the couch and lifted her dress to show her leather boots perfect for stealth, and he watched her secure her daggers into the sides of them. She sighed and met his gaze.

"I don't know why I feel so apprehensive for meeting your friends." He snorted.

"You have nothing to worry about, we literally take anyone," he said without thinking. She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"I would assume; they took in your sorry ass."

He smirked, his chest bubbling at the tease. "Just don't bat your maiden eyes too long at the dwarf or the pirate; they will eat you right up."

She laughed lightly, and then quieted, and then she turned into the image of a scared, elven maid right in front of him. She clasped her hands together, her eyes widened, and her brows upturned as she looked at him earnestly, and she even began to tremble. He knew this was an act and yet he felt his heart shift in his chest from the sight.

"S-sir, m-may I please refill your cup? Can I get anything for you?" her voice turned to complete innocence, and he blinked at her transformation, awed by the accuracy. He had never had such a beautiful pair of blue-green eyes look at him with such care before, and he cleared his throat.

"Oh, you should absolutely introduce yourself to them like that." he could imagine the shock they would feel after a performance like hers. She shed the innocent skin and she smiled at him before chuckling.

"I'll just butter them up, ripe for our taking," she said, elbowing him softly, and he nodded mischievously.

"You make the dwarf make a fool of himself, I'll buy you drinks for the rest of the week."

She grinned. "Count on it."

O

O

O

O

O

"Alright, alright, fine, elf. But just tell me this one thing," Varric slurred as he waved his empty mug towards Fenris.

Fenris lounged in a chair with his feet up on a table, in the middle of the bustling Hanged Man. He nursed his own drink, and he rolled his eyes at the insistent dwarf.

"What."

"Is she, brunette? Blonde? Oh, please tell me she's redheaded," he asked, like the information was the most paramount in the world. Fenris sighed and shook his head as Varric continued. "I just have to know so I can fully envision the moody angst sex you two have in my head."

Fenris was about to make a retort when the new waitress approached. Both men watched her fidget with her apron with one hand as she clutched a large pitcher in the other. Fenris kept his gaze away from hers and watched Varric with a slightly sick enjoyment.

"May I refill your cup again, sir?" she inquired softly, and Fenris could see the dwarf melt right in front of him.

"Oh, my dear. You have taken such good care of old Varric, all evening," he gushed as she poured more ale for him. Isabela approached, then, and Fenris felt excitement bubble in his chest.

"Sweet robin, will you fill mine again too?" she placed an arm around her, and Lyra smiled at her charmingly.

"She's filling mine right now, Isabela," Varric grumbled, and Lyra gave the most innocent confused look as the two garbled over who she was serving first.

Fenris felt laughter bubble from his chest, and soon he was banging the table with his fist laughing. He watched Lyra struggle to keep her facade, and after a moment of Varric and Isabela glaring at him demanding what was wrong with him, Lyra slipped from between the two tipsy rogues and walked to stand next to Fenris. He calmed down and felt her place a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her and gave her an actual genuine smile, not having felt such merriment in a very long time.

She shed her innocent fear, but kept her kind eyes as she grinned back at him. Varric and Isabela just stared, uncomprehendingly. Fenris smirked and held his hands in front of him, fingertips touching.

"Varric, Isabela. May I introduce you, Lyra, travelling rogue, assassin in the dark, savior of poor children and my new friend, who hails from Ferelden."

Lyra curtsied, and grinned at them both before gesturing to Fenris. "Forgive me. This prank was the least I could do to thank him after taking me in from the streets."

Varric stared at her slack jawed, and Isabela looked slightly betrayed. "Sweet robin…?"

He watched Lyra's brows upturn and she smiled before walking over to her. Isabela blinked at her with a guarded expression, and Lyra gracefully stepped into her arms, rested a hand on her cheek, and placed her lips gently on her other cheek. Fenris and Varric watched, perplexed, as Isabela blinked, and Lyra stepped away as quickly as she had come. "May I remain your robin?"

Isabela stared at her, then downed her entire tankard and slammed it on the table Fenris was at. His feet fell from the table, and then he backed away as Isabela jumped up on the table and hollered for the attention of the entire bar.

"Shots on me!" She whooped and the crowd cheered, and Varric and Fenris were yelling and trying to get her down. Lyra lost it and laughed brightly, listening to Fenris and Varric yell at Isabela that she doesn't have any money.

After the commotion had somewhat died down, and the four had moved to sitting positions at a table, the crowd shifted and Hawke walked in, drawing much attention, as a tall, handsome, heavily armed human would. He joined them at the table, and Fenris laid an intoxicated hand on his shoulder.

"Hawke. This is Lyra." He gestured to the waitress sitting with them, and Hawke nodded to her with a slight smile.

"I've seen you before, around. It seems the best stealth is in plain sight?"

Lyra nodded and smiled. "I've the opportunity to take on such a disguise, and may I say, the rewards have been worth it."

"I heard you and Fenris intercepted a group from Lord Balgruff and saved a girl."

She nodded, and turned to Fenris when he spoke up.

"Yes, and what's more, we discovered a hideout, up in hightown."

Hawke's brows rose and he was about to respond when the drunken Isabela interrupted, stumbling against him messily.

"Always talking about work. During the day, during the night, even in bed. Lay off for a night, will ya?"

Hawke looked at her for a second and nodded. The other three shared a look. A silence ensued, and Lyra broke it gracefully.

"May I ask what part of Ferelden you are from, Hawke?"

He nodded, and sobered. "Certainly, my family is from Lothering. We left right as the blight was overtaking us."

A silence followed, acknowledging his home lost to the war. Then he continued.

"Are you from the Ferelden alienage, Lyra?"

She shook her head. "I once belonged to the Dalish clan, the Lavellan. I have my tattoos covered with a wax right now, as part of the disguise. I visited Lothering once, before it was overrun."

"Really?" he asked, shocked. She nodded.

"I am sorry you lost your home. I, too, can not return to the forests where I grew up. Have you any family?"

The table quieted, and her brows upturned. "Forgive me for asking."

He shook his head, but did not hide his pain. "There is nothing to forgive. My mother, sister Bethany, and I escaped here as refugees and have been living with my uncle Gamlen. We lost my younger brother, Carver, in the escape."

She bowed her head and said something soft in the Dalish tongue, saying a prayer for him. The table watched her for the moment, and then she raised her gaze to meet his once again.

"The blight brought tragedy to us all. I was involved in the war efforts, and I saw first hand the destruction and the loss of all of the races." she glanced at Fenris and met his gaze, and he received the silent request from her: Please allow me to inform them of my past on my own. He nodded in understanding. She continued. "I come here, as a sort of refugee as well. I had planned on travelling farther, but after seeing the pain woven in the roots of this city…"

Hawke nodded in understanding, his blue eyes regarding her kindly. "I feel the same way. There is so much to be done here." He glanced at Isabela, but she was drowning in her drink. "Let us speak no more of sad times tonight; tonight, we want to celebrate, and the only way this band of misfits knows how to initiate another into our group is to simply…"

He paused for dramatic effect.

"Drink as much as you can, without dying."

The table whooped, and Lyra felt a grin form before she leaned into Fenris, sitting next to her. "Alright. This one here owes me a week's worth of drinks!"

Fenris grimaced but raised an arm to rest on her shoulders. He looked at her, but the corner of his mouth rose. "I had hoped you had forgotten that."

O

O

O

O

O

"And then, I swear, and then this poor chap truthfully whimpered, and I couldn't take it anymore, I burst out laughing…" Isabela descended into a mad fit of giggling, the Hanged Man becoming deserted from the normal folk heading home in the early hour, leaving just the table of Lyra's new friends.

Lyra was holding on to the table, trying to keep steady in her inebriation, and yet she had still enough awareness to see what the drunk Isabela was doing to Hawke, joking about past lovers so openly. She watched Hawke cordially chuckle with the others at proper times, but she could read how uncomfortable he was, even in her drunken state. She slid over to him and joined him at the table.

"You fight with a broad sword or sword and shield?" her words were only slightly slurred, and she took that as a win.

He looked over at her and seemed to relax some, his blue eyes grateful.

"Both. You fight with a bow or daggers?"

"Both." she smiled at him, and she watched some tension leave his shoulders from the distraction. He cocked his head.

"I know you are close to Fenris. How do you feel about mages?"

The question caught her off guard, but she recovered quickly.

"Mages are just people. They are born with something, whether they believe it to be a gift or a curse. I see them as bearers of the burden of power, but as with all weapons, one can hone them to do wonderful and beautiful things, like protecting your loved ones, or serving the nature around us, as the Dalish teach." she smiled in memory. "My dear mentor, an older human woman, Wynne, was a mage. I want to be as strong as her, and as calm and compassionate as her, one day."

He nodded. "My sister is an apostate. As well as Anders, our healer, and Merrill." He paused to take a drink, and Lyra watched him. "But I don't fear telling you that as much, since the Dalish have held that burden of power and handled it since the beginning."

She nodded in agreement. "The Dalish believe that to focus on the weapon is to lose sight of the cause. Mages just use different weapons, instead of a bow or sword. What matters, with all people, is their values, and how effective they are at taking care of themselves, be it physically, mentally, and emotionally."

Hawke smiled at her. "It's a relief to know Fenris has a friend like you."

She felt a slight blush brush her cheeks. "You are too kind, Hawke. Fenris told me he was once enslaved. I'm assuming it was by mages."

"Yes. The pain and the distrust, and the fear, runs deep."

Lyra nodded and looked down at the tankard in her hands, lost in thought. Hawke regarded her.

"I sense a lot of experience in you, like you've lived enough for a few lifetimes already." he said quietly, and Lyra met his thoughtful gaze. She smiled at him slightly, and just nodded.

"My time for leading has come, and gone. It feels right that I can support your cause and the people in this city," she said as she drank from her mug. She met his eyes. "I sense goodness in your heart, and a purity in your soul. You are a leader I really feel comfortable following."

Hawke blinked at her and then his bearded face broke into a smile, the lines on his face melting. "I really appreciate that, Lyra. You are quite welcome here, and I look forward to fighting alongside you."

She smiled and nodded, and then downed the rest of her drink before standing from the table.

"Now, I'm not nearly close enough to dying, so if you'll excuse me I will serve myself another drink."

Hawke chuckled and nodded before finishing his own. Lyra walked to the bar and slipped behind it, smiling at the bartender she worked with before holding her tankard under a barrel with a tap.

"Drinking on the job, are we, Robin," she heard Varric say behind her, and she smiled at him over her shoulder. She walked over to where he was leaning on the bar, sitting on a stool, and she chuckled at his lidded, drunken eyes.

"You won't tell, will you?" she joked, and Varric shook his head.

"Still can't believe you got me so well! You would make an intriguing character in a book," he mused, and Lyra drank from her ale.

"Just promise me my character won't have any moody agnst sex and I won't lie to you ever again," she winked, and Varric chuckled.

"That's a hard bargain you argue, Robin." He deliberated. "Fine, but I need some character to have moody agnst sex with the elf one way or another."

"That's fair," she smiled.

"So, tell me your story. I'm all about stories, and yours seems to be the most interesting."

"Oh, I need to be much more drunk for that, Varric."

"Challenge accepted, milady."

O

O

O

O

O

Thank you for reading, let me know what you think! Next chapter should be up next weekend.

Have a wonderful day/night and take care of yourself!