A/N: Just a few things to mention, first off. I've been on a writing streak, and I'm moderately pleased with what I've come up with. The Dragon Age universe it simply a wonderland for fan-fiction, and my City Elf, Keelan Tabris, is my baby. I welcome constructive criticism and reviews, as it helps me improve my writing, which is something I positively love to do.

In my story, Keelan Tabris is nineteen (19) going on twenty (20) in a few months. I figure she's young because she was getting married in the game. Typically (I've noticed) these arranged marriages happen at a young age. Perhaps Keelan is more stubborn than people give her credit for? Mwahaha.

EDIT: It's come to my attention that this story needs some structure, time wise. Hence be prepared for some changes and chapter-switching in the future. I will put a note in the chapters that I've switched, just in case anyone gets confused. Not that they should, seeing as these are spur-of-the-moment short stories. But character development is something I love, so...

I am putting in a timeline to help keep track of where Keelan is in the story.

Warnings: Some scenes of abuse, a racial slur or two, and I think mild cursing.

Timeline: Two years before Ostagar.

Knife-Ear

Keelan Tabris hated her job. Dealing with these drunken idiot shems all evening was certainly not her idea of a good time. Dragging Soris and Shianni on all sorts of mad adventures through the Alienage - and occasionally through the rest of Denerim - whilst causing all sorts of trouble for said shems, then relaxing on the rooftops or in the highest branches of the vhenadahl as the sun sets?

Now that would certainly count as a good time.

The work here, despite her grousing, was decidedly better than what other elves had to do. Some sifted through sewage, or worked the docks in extremely dangerous conditions, or picked up whatever scraps the rest of the city threw at them. Keelan had been lucky. Her father was a servant in the castle, and was thus paid relatively well. He had been able to get his daughter a job at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. From what she understood, it was either this or the Pearl.

Not that it needed to be said, but Keelan did not have an interest in whoring herself out, especially to shems. The very thought made her shiver with disgust. Images of their large, rough hands pawing at her comparitively tiny body, groping her in sensitive places, sticking their tongues in her mouth.

Ugh! Vile!

The disgust in her mind must have shown on her face, because one regular, a rather large, stocky man named Tomas gave her a look that made her want to run away.

Quickly she turned on her heel, attempting to scurry away before he could call on her.

"You! Elf!" she stopped, grimacing. You really need to stop being so... noticable, she berated herself. Humans did not appreciate elves having minds of their own, nor having a willful attitude.

She turned slowly, her shoulders hunching instinctively. Keelan straightened her posture quickly, as she recognized her combative stance, and this regular was a mercenary of sorts. Or at least he got into a few fights, if the stories he prattled on about (rather loudly) were true.

"Yeah, you. Come 'ere, woman, and refill my glass." His lecherous smirk taunted her from beneath his scraggly beard.

It was probably not in her best interest to ignore Tomas' demand, instead fetching him a new mug of ale from Harlen the Barkeep. Though she seemed to have taken on a new philosophy: "Bad decisions make good stories."

Influence from her mother, her father would no doubt say.

Keelan returned with the mug, setting it swiftly on the table and gracefully snatching the empty one with practiced dexterity. Though despite her training, she was nowhere near her mother's skill level.

"Oi, I tol' you ta refill my glass," he stood from the table, Keelan's keen eyes noted his slight drink-induced instability, "you don't follow simple orders? I'll teach you so' manners, knife-ear."

He lunged toward her, as slow as she expected, and gracefully stepped around him so he fell straight toward the floor. Tomas hit the poorly kept floorboards soundly, but not with the finality Keelan had been expecting.

Tomas' muscled hand shot up with surprising speed, snatching her wrist and yanking her down roughly, his other hand grasping her coiled hair tightly. She yelped in surprise and pain, though her position made it near impossible to break free without hurting herself more.

"Get off!" she snarled, hoping to intimidate him enough to get him to loosen his grip even the slightest. It had the opposite effect. He grinned in return as he returned to his seat, pulling her onto his lap. His companions chuckled at her predicament.

Scenarios played over in her head. What would the consequences be if I attacked this wretched shemlen bastard? Would I be thrown in the dungeons? Beaten and raped more likely. What of father? Would he lose his position in Bann Rodolf's estate? Would we be thrown out of our home? Chased out of Denerim and lynched by some angry mob? She decided, in the end, that it was best to refrain from squishing his eyeballs out. Perhaps he would release her after 'teaching her a lesson' or whatever.

"I think yer beautiful," his breath was hot and thick with the smell of alcohol, her nose wrinkled in revulsion. Any normal woman would have been terrified at those words in her position, but Tabris was no cowed elven woman. She was bold and willful, though some would call that stupidity.

"I think you're a drunken fool," she snarled, struggling against his grip.

Like some wild creature caught in a cage, she thought with some bitterness, though the comparison was not far from the truth.

A companion of his chuckled darkly as he reached over to stroke her ears. Her traitorous body shivered at the contact, both at the highly unwelcome familiarity at his touch, and the considerable sensitivity of her elven ears.

"I think she likes it, boss," his second companion chuckled along with his friend. At this, Keelan struggled more fervently, inadvertently motivating her captor. The distinctive tell-tale sign of his arousal arose a panic in her chest.

"I think so too, Rory." He turned her face to face his directly, boring deeply into her eyes with a violent, lusty glare. "Your ears are so... beautiful," he sneered, Keelan knew it was an insult. No human found elven ears beautiful, if anything they found them exotic. Something one would find on a whore. Nothing more.

She opened her mouth to retort, but a cry came out instead as his hand moved from her hair to crush her delicate elven ear in his meaty grip. Her whole body arched, twitching in pain. His grip relaxed for a moment before tugging roughly on the lobe, then flicking the highly sensitive tip hard.

When Keelan tried to jerk away he caught her throat, not squeezing, but letting her know that he could snap her neck if he wanted to. His other hand released her wrist and snatched her other ear, savagely kneading the soft cartiledge, eliciting pained whimpers from the elf.

Tomas and his friends seemed to enjoy this. "That mouth will get you into trouble one day, knife-ear." Keelan felt a hand ghosting her hip, traveling down to the spot in between her thighs, slowly stroking her over the cloth of her dress.

Anger bubbled up from deep within her, she bore her teeth with a growl. Her hand snapped behind her, snatching the full ale mug, bringing it crashing into Tomas' head. He started, yanking roughly on her ear as he released her to clutch his face. Tomas' companions jumped from their seats, attempting to re-capture the elf.

Keelan stumbled over the man as she made her escape, though as he tumbled to the ground he caught her by the ankle. She flew to the ground, her fast reflexes keeping her nose from breaking on the nasty floorboards.

Tomas crawled on top of her, dripping with blood and ale. After a brief struggle he caught her wrists, placing them in one large paw before striking her with the other. Keelan's head snapped to the right, her cheek burning by the force of the blow. Stars exploded into her vision and she tasted copper. As she saw his hand rise up to strike her again, another, familiar hand grabbed her attackers arm.

"I think it's time for you and your boys to leave." Harlen snarled fiercely, glaring daggers at the men, two bouncers flanked him on either side, dirks in hand. Tomas made several stuttering noises before finding an excuse for his actions.

"She came at me and me boys, look!" he gestured to the bloody gash adorning his forehead. Harlen simply snorted.

"This elf is willful, but she knows her place. Unlike you. This is my tavern, and you do not assault my employees, no matter the race." He jerked his thumb to his men, "Show them out."

Tomas growl rumbled in his deep chest, turning a baleful eye to the woman he straddled. "I'll find yah, knife-ear, and when I do..." he leaned in close, whispering into her wounded ears, "I'll break yeh." Harlens hirelings gripped him firmly, hauling the lout out of the tavern.

Keelan scrambled to her feet, swaying only for a moment before inclining her head toward Harlen. She cleared her throat.

"Took your time, ser." She winced mentally; she really did have to watch her mouth.

Harlen simply gave her a hard glance before shaking his head and flashing a weary look of amusement, "You are far more trouble than you are worth, woman."

She smirked, Harlen was always good to her. Well, as good as any human had ever been to her. He gave her a job, he never called her a 'knife-ear', nor did he make any passes at her. Despite his gruff and tough demeanour, he was always... civil with her. It was absolutely confusing, and she suspected some sort of ulterior motive. There had to be one. But for now... she was simply learning to accept this behavior from him. He was a good man.

For a human.

"And yet, here I remain," she smirked, enjoying the terse, playful banter they always seemed to have. To her surprise, he didn't immediately bite back a reply, instead his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. He cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance.

"Yer efficient," he waved a dismissive hand that turned into a beckoning one. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Keelan allowed him to lead her to the back room. He dipped a cloth into a bowl of water, squeezing it till it was damp.

Keelan appreciated the distance he kept, clearly recognizing her obvious distrust of humans, but more importantly, he respected it.

Harlen made a noise in the back of his throat, requesting permission to tend to her. With a few moments of hesitation, she cautiously offered the left side of her face. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he pressed the soothing cool of the cloth against the still stinging heat on her cheek.

Soft brushes and smooth strokes took much of the swelling down, cleaning up the cut on her lip and generally making her feel better. Her eyes fluttered as a sudden wave of drowsiness overtook her, this delicate treatment was slowly wearing down her usually guarded vigilance.

It's surprising to meet a human out there who isn't cruel to elves. There are other elves who work here, but none that serve the drinks or speak with customers. Odd, but then again, none of the others possess my grace and dexterity. Thank you, mother. Tabris frowned at the thought of her mother, but she pushed the thought back. Shems are all the same.. but Harlen is good to me, for a human. It's strange, but sometimes it puts me on my guard even more. Wha-

Her thoughts vanished and she was brought sharply back to herself as she felt the cool of the cloth run along the length of her ear. Keelan jerked back violently, large eyes wide in surprise then narrowed on Harlen.

He quickly retracted his reach, "Sorry, do they hurt that bad?"

"Don't touch my ears," she said firmly. It's a warning. But... it didn't hurt. Did it? The sensation was gone before she could analyze it. No human had ever touched her ears with anything but cruelty.

"All right," he laughed a little nervously, "no touchin' the ears. I hear you."

Harlen let the motions of the cloth linger on her delicate jawbone, she seemed so fragile to him, yet she had a willful passion that he had never seen in an elf before. Or a human woman, for that matter.

She allows me to do this, she hates it when humans touch her, always shying away or lashing out. But she allows me to get this close, so vulnerable, but even so I'm sure she could give me a run for my coin.

Her eyes fluttered, stirring him to continue. I don't know what to do with her. I want her, but she would never accept it. She would never lay with me. To her, I am a shemlen, even if I am kind to her. Elves and humans together? The scandal from both our worlds. Yet I cannot help my feelings toward her, perhaps... in time she will learn to trust me. Until then, I will keep her safe when I can. Today was sloppy, but the pay-off.. I get to touch her now. Harlen couldn't decide if it was worth her suffering or not. He knew she was a scrapper, having come in with a black eye or a gash here or there on occasion.

He was so distracted thinking about her that he didn't notice his own hand slowly reaching up, caressing her jawbone.

Her skin has been kissed by the sun, he thought idly as his fingers brushed the soft, supple skin. What I would give to be running my hands over the rest of her. Her long, proud elven neck, her taut, slender waist. Even those narrow hips are so enticing. Not as generous as a human woman, but that's hardly the point. They're so... beautiful.

He struggled to suppress the numerous impure thoughts flicking across his mind, calculating whether the table behind her could hold their weight. No. You have to be better than the others. Prove you can be trusted.

It took more effort than he expected to push the thoughts out of his mind and retract his overly familiar hand from her frozen face.

"Harlen?" she asked warily, tensing her wiry frame. He pulled back altogether. This is why I have others around, to keep me in check. I get stupid around her.

He cleared his throat gruffly, "Hmph, well, we've doddled enough. Let's get back to work."

Keelan hesitated, casting him a cautious glance before smirking, "Can't have anyone stealing things, now can we?" She paused, "I.. uh, owe you a mug, too. Ser." She appended, feeling she was getting too informal with her employer.

"Hmph, the bugger had it coming. You can repay me by not being so foolish again." Harlen disliked being so... abraisive with women, especially her. It was the only way to keep himself from acting like a prissy poet and embarrassing himself in front of everyone.

"Oh, thank you, Harlen. I'll do my best not to get mixed up in anything." The mischief he saw dancing in those deep blue eyes, like that of an oncoming storm, he knew it wouldn't take long to get herself into some sort of trouble or other.