Borrowed Time, Ch 1

Author's Note: This is my DA fanfic with a completely new origin. It will roughly follow the events of Dragon Age: Origins and Awakening.

Disclaimer: DA belongs to Bioware, but if in their secret cloning facility they are willing to part with their sexiest male characters I would happily purchase them.

Knowing the day and hour of your death is highly overrated. Shiva dreaded the day of her execution as it slowly came for her. She was never good at waiting. Finally, end of the line. Her expression was stony. She didn't want to give the crowd before her the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid. It was fortunate her hands were bound behind her, lest these arrogant peasants saw how they shook. The constant flipping of her stomach might be the death of her instead of the noose tied around her neck. So much for the fearless Pirate Queen of the Waking Sea.

There was another who called herself 'Queen of the Eastern Seas,' but that title was self-proclaimed. She was below Shiva in cunning, skill, riches, and reputation. Shiva's title was bestowed upon her when tales of her exploits got out. The Waking Sea was one region the pirates operated. The confederation Raiders of the Waking Sea actually had operations all over the seas surrounding Eastern Thedas. From her title as queen of that particular region, she had an understood supremacy. The Raiders had no leader, however. It continued to be based on individual conquests.

In truth, Shiva had mostly operated far from the Waking Sea, when other raiders would claim their loot, she would wait like a spider to steal their riches and glory. She was fond of her title, though. As her infamy grew, her pride did similarly. It was well known that she spared none who crossed her ship. It was foolhardy as once a pirate got such a reputation more forceful opposition was inevitable. Both sides would take heavy losses. So she played nice – sort of. Surrenders were accepted and treasure was taken from their ship to hers. What they did not expect was that her men carried bags of a Qunari invention on board, placing them deep within the hold of their ship. This invention of theirs was a powder of sorts – one that would explode when paired with fire. Shiva's crew orchestrated the explosion, set off only when they were far enough away from their doomed enemy.

Her opposition soon caught on. 'Beware the raven haired lady captain,' they'd say.

'The captain of Siren's Call? Heh, I met her. Lookit me, still alive. The tales are rubbish, I say.'

'No, stupid sod. That's Captain Isabela. The lady captain with skin pale and cold as snow is the one to fear. She'll give ye a wink and a farewell but you won't remember her beauty when yer on the ocean floor the following dawn. She has some evil magic that lingers. Once she steps on a ship, it's a death sentence.' No warnings were given about a first mate who would pretend to be the captain so the other crew would not see their guaranteed demise. They dreaded a lady captain, as they should. Of course, she didn't get much of a warning either before said first mate and his fellow mutineers threw her overboard. But that was a different matter entirely. Luckily the tale of her downfall had not gotten out.

Another truth preferred to keep secret was that her victims had been other pirates, slavers, and smugglers. All those that stood before her now believed the stories her crew had purposely seeded in their minds – that no one was safe from her blade. Shiva used those stories to escape the dreaded the attention she would get if they knew she was a vigilante. Their support was undesired; the debates whether or not she had the right to take matters into her own hands were of no concern to her. No, she much preferred the publicity of a villain. Besides, she did execute raids proposed by officials in Llomerryn and her methods were, after all, not fabricated in the least. Beating, beheading, and stabbing, oh my!

Duncan had little time left for searching for a suitable Grey Warden recruit before he needed to return to Ostagar. He began his search in the Brecilian Forest. Duncan found the Dalish easily, but was disturbed when he heard the two most skilled warriors were tainted by a corrupted artifact. Their aid would have been welcome, and he could have taken them to undergo the Joining and be 'cured' from their more severe version of the taint. Unfortunately one of the elves disappeared during the accident and the other died before Keeper Marethari could offer temporary relief. Duncan had ventured to the ruins alone to look for the missing elf, then once again with the First, Merril, to destroy the tainted artifact. After this was done he decided to move on. There would be no aid for the Grey Wardens from the Dalish.

He traveled north, following the West Road to Denerim, where he visited the Alienage. No luck there either. Most of the elves were distrustful, especially since the day before the Arl's son Vaughn had interrupted a double wedding and kidnapped several elves, including one notably capable female rogue. She, the bride Tabris, was among the casualties, which also included her betrothed, and one of the bridesmaids. Her cousin also fought, but was arrested after his failed rescue and an attempt on the brash noble's life. The rest of the Alienage's population had only merchants, drunks with little fighting skill, and the infirm.

Duncan's next best bet was Highever. He had heard that one knight, Ser Gilmore, had served the Cousland family well. Teyrn Cousland had much respect for the Grey Wardens, unlike the heroic Teyrn of Gwaren. Highever was another days journey away. If he rose from his bed in The Crown and the Lion he might just make it by nightfall.

When he left the room, he saw that there was hardly anyone in the tavern. Duncan paid little attention to this and went outside. When he saw there was hardly anyone on the streets – odd for late morning – he felt something was amiss. He found the townsfolk outside the gate, where an execution was being held.

Duncan approached the crowd and stood in the back. The prisoner was a woman, late twenties to early thirties. Dark hair and a pale skin. She looked thin, probably from malnourishment in the dungeons, and though she was bound and standing at a distance he could see she looked athletic. Her height was average, at most. What impressed him was that she stood straight and faced her death with no fear. He could see her eyeing the crowd, almost disinterested, before he felt her looking at him.

Shiva stood on the gallows and followed the line of the trap door below her with her foot, wondering if by the Maker's mercy her neck would be broken by the drop.

"Stand still, scurvy harlot." The guard was not worthy of notice, nor the Revered Mother, who was delivering a sorrowful sermon. Something about judgment, the price we pay for breaking the Maker's laws, that this is why we abandoned us, et cetera. Constable Aidan would interject, spouting laws set by people in addition to the Maker's, and would report the many of those laws Shiva violated to earn her place there. It was far more interesting to imagine what would happen when her part in this play was over, after the final jerk of her hanging body. Would the crowd cheer? She had often rejoiced in a similar victory when she and her men wiped out an opposing pirate crew and hung their captain from the bowsprit of their sinking vessel. Of course, she preferred to hang them from their ribs, which she was thankful they were not doing to her. From the way they would scream and gasp, she had deduced it was an acutely painful death, indeed.

Shiva shut her eyes and did something she hadn't done in over a decade – she prayed. She wasn't fond of religion. There was nothing wrong with faith, but the faithful would ruin it. People had an affinity for ruining things.

Maker, we both know it wasn't supposed to be like this. I was once a normal child, sweet and naïve, destined to become a mother to 3 or more little ones and to live comfortably with an average husband in an average home. Bless those of my family that remain with this meaningless, peaceful life that was intended for me. Most of all let them never learn of this day.

Shiva could breathe easier after she ran out of words. She remembered how she would pray until she slept when she was small, scared of what monster could be lurking in the dark.

A hot gust of wind blew past. Her worn, white clothes billowed around her like sails. The heat reminded her of the years she spent working at the forge under her master. Smithing had been her solace in an otherwise torturous situation. Her master bought her when she was fourteen years of age, intending to use her for his pleasure. He did not expect her interest in his line of work, but she proved herself to be adept and devoted. It gave him more time to sit back and leer at her, which she abhorred. After her final thought, being that she would likely be reunited with the bastard in whatever nether realm existed, she thought no more of him.

She scanned the crowd once more, accepting her fate and relieved it would soon be over. She stood straight with an expression of complete calm. The only weight on her shoulders was the weight of the noose around her neck.

She looked more closely to the people before her, those with whom she would share her final moments. A young woman with a boy in her arms stood near the center of the crowd. She was tugging at her husbands sleeve not wanting to see what was about to happen and no doubt not wanting her infant son to be exposed to such violence. They were ignored by the husband, whose neck was stretched almost comically to see past the frizzy haired hag that stood in front of him. There were merchants she recognized from earlier visits to Amaranthine. The fat caterpillar of a man that stood by the Merchants Guild board. The dark haired woman with large eyes that had recently married another merchant. Delilah, her name was. Shiva remembered talking to her just before her arrest. The dwarven bartender from The Crown and the Lion stood near her.

Her eyes locked with one spectator in particular. He did not fit with the dirty peasants surrounding him, clad in plain clothes and unshapely dresses. It was the fact he wore armor that made him noticeable. The guards were the only others who did so. His silverite gloves, breastplate of white steel, red robes, and tan hose clashed together into one unique character. The grip and pommel of the two blades on his back stuck up like amputated wings. His skin was dark, Qunari-bronze. His beard was thick and neat, hair tied back with a few loose pieces framing well-shaped brows. She could not see his eyes well from the distance between them, but she imagined they were warm and wise. He was attractive and the gold hoop in his ear was the final touch that made him look more like a pirate than she ever did. That thought caused the corner of her lip to twitch into a small smile. Shiva's eyes remained locked with his, and for some reason she gave him the slightest bow. He cocked his head, more in confusion than acknowledgement, and assumed the classic 'thinking position.' Something about her stare must have spooked him, for he started to move through the crowd. The reality of her situation returned to her. All thoughts of her curious spectator left and she looked over the crowd to the field beyond.

Her demeanor had made him curious, but her manner when she addressed him directly had struck him. Duncan had listened to Constable Aidan's account of her crimes. She was being hung for piracy. Her body would be brought to the docks below the city used by smugglers and suspended as a deterrent.

Upon her capture, she had killed several guards. She was obviously a capable fighter and possessed useful skills. The constable's was not the only account he had heard. There was a book written about her, supposedly by one who had sailed under her command. She was a force to be reckoned with, he had read. Daring in battle and always unpredictable. Swift and powerful. There had been a noticeable decline in pirate activity among the coasts, other captains feared they would be crushed by their competition – and did this lovely Pirate Queen ever hate competition.

Treasures were not what motivated this woman – but thrills. The thrill of being in a battle and the thrill of being the best. She would reward her crew with generous shares of their spoils, keeping only a moderate fraction more than they would receive.

His gut told him making his way to the foot of the gallows was the right thing to do.

A small disturbance to her right caused Shiva to turn her head. The armored, dark and handsome spectator was speaking with the guard that separated the crowd from her little carnival act. As they spoke, the guard became more forceful and the man stood ever more firmly. The constable stepped forward and addressed the situation openly.

"Do you object to this sentencing, sirrah?" The man turned his head to address his speaker and took a slight bow.

"Forgive my intrusion, but I am in need of Grey Warden recruits and if this woman is who you say she is, she has valuable skills that would benefit our cause against the darkspawn rising in the south." Shiva was thoroughly surprised.

This guy wants to recruit me? Has he not been listening this whole time or is he as crazy as I am? Hmm… I hope it is the latter.

Constable Aiden puffed his chest out and managed to pull off a mighty frown. "Out of the question! She is responsible for some of the most heinous acts since the time of the Orlesian occupation. She will hang this very day! She killed several of my guards before we apprehended her!"

The recruiter looked at her once more. She was aware she probably looked foolish in her surprise. Head cocked, eyes wide, mouth forming a small 'O.' She risked being struck by the guard by speaking herself.

"What is this purpose you mentioned that you believe I could aid?" Just as predicted, the constable struck her across the face for speaking out of turn. He inhaled to reprimand further, but the recruiter stepped forward and put his hand on Constable Asshole's shoulder. Shiva licked blood off of her busted lip.

"There are tainted creatures called darkspawn rising from the Deep Roads and making their presence known on the surface. They have formed a horde in the Korcari Wilds and threaten to invade north into the valley. An army of our own has formed at Ostagar to combat it."

"A battle in the south? So you seek only another body to be gutted on the field." She quieted as she thought. "It would seem I face death either way. Understand I do not oppose the option, but the decision is out of my hands and the constable is clearly unwilling to release me. I'm afraid you must find yourself another soldier." Turning from the man with such sureness should have left him resigned and retreating, but his momentum did not slow.

"If I am understanding you correctly, you're saying you would raise your sword to fight with us as a Grey Warden?"

"I see little point in confirming that, considering my current situati-" A nod toward the area indicated her point. All present were in favor of the execution taking place, except the recruiter and herself. It would take something concrete to challenge so much combined will.

"My lady, I would appreciate if you answered my question." She was right; his eyes were warm and strong – brown like a deep pool of honey.

"I would fight in your battle."

He turned to the guards again. "Then I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription. I remove this prisoner into my custody."

Shiva had never heard of the Right of Conscription, but it was good enough to make the constable gape like a fish so she liked it already.

"You… You fool! You are freeing this murderous criminal? You think she will bend knee to your cause? The only cause she follows is satisfying her own greed and bloodlust! You are dooming countless innocents!" Duncan maintained his composure while Aidan shouted and sprayed a considerable amount of saliva on their shoes. Shiva flinched when she felt the executioner loosen the knot of the noose and raise it over her head. The rope around her wrists was cut and no one would be able to convince her that the slice she felt on her wrist was accidental.

Constable Aidan stepped to the edge of the gallows and addressed the crowd. "The pirate is to become a Grey Warden, you have this man to thank for letting this killer remain on the streets. Return to your homes, lock your doors at night and make sure you are well armed for she is one of many criminal scum that blight the city of Amaranthine." Shiva listened with growing indignation. She imagined how amusing it would be to plant her foot on his back and shove him off the gallows right into the pathetic little crowd. Deciding the idea was too good to pass up, she stepped forward but was halted when Duncan seized her arm, no doubt aware of her mischievous intent. He was giving her a stern look.

Damn, what happened to my subtlety?

When her plan was foiled, she relaxed in submission. Duncan let go of her arm and formally greeted her. "My lady, my name is Duncan. Your name is…?"

"Shiva."

"Shiva, have you any possessions? We will be traveling for some time and you are hardly equipped to make such a journey." Before Shiva could reply, Constable Aidan stepped up to answer.

"Her possessions were confiscated when she was arrested. If she is to walk out of here alive, she should take all her rubbish with her. I will lead you to where they are stored." He looked at Shiva warily, with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Neither Duncan nor Shiva paid his posture any mind – Shiva wanted to get what little she had back from the guard.

When Shiva's items were returned to her, she and Duncan returned to the inn. She tossed her prison rags aside and put on her white tunic, her leather pants that were a poor excuse for light armor, and her boots that were worn. She tied her gold sash around her waist, fondly remembering the angry drunk in Kirkwall that had lost it to her in a card game. After checking her small leather pouch that had her skeleton key and a few lockpicks, she secured them and her empty flask to her sash. There was a severe lack of ale and a meager amount of coins in her coin purse that made her frown. She bent down to slide her dagger in her boot and went downstairs to reunite with Duncan.

He sat at a table against the wall, rising from his chair when he saw her. They both sat. She had the chance to really see him as he was directly across from her, and found him ever more appealing to the eyes.

"I have taken the liberty of ordering some food for you to eat. I imagine they have not been generous to you lately."

"Quite the understatement, and thank you." Bread, cheese, and meat were brought to the table. As they ate, Duncan noticed her eyes were on him almost constantly and her expression became increasingly puzzled. She ate fast though, and drank with even more speed so he decided to address her attention after she had her fill. When her eyes were locked on the table and her chewing slowed to compensate for her racing mind, he spoke.

"I imagine you have many questions for me."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. They were a brilliant blue, deeper than he had ever seen. The shade was so dark it was near violet, yet he distinctly remembered meeting her eyes before and noticing a much lighter shade. "I do. Why me? Are you such a risk taker that you would recruit a known killer? What exactly do you think I have that could be of use to you? How do you even know I am who they said I was? Or as skilled as they say? What exactly is a Grey Warden? And who are you?" She spoke fast, ended her string of questions with a deep breath. She looked at him with the same childlike expression as before when he revealed his intention to recruit her. Duncan chuckled.

"If there is any question I fail to address, you will have to remind me. And before I answer, are you who they say?"

"Yes, I was a pirate. The infamous lady captain of the ship Revenant and much of what you heard about me, if you have heard of me, is probably true." Her expression was smug as it was likely he had heard all about her. Whether he had or not, she still had his interest since he put himself forth in such a way to claim her for his cause.

"Then you have been in combat before and survived. You have lead men to victory in battles at sea, have you not?"

"I have."

"Being a Grey Warden is a lifelong duty. Our purpose is to fight the darkspawn with everything we have, for if the darkspawn gain a foothold on the surface and are not swiftly and efficiently opposed, they could wipe out all human, elven, and dwarven-kind. I do not always recruit this way, I search for capable warriors that are willing to join our cause, but I have been traveling for weeks and have found none. This situation demands I return with someone willing to join us for there are too few Grey Wardens in Ferelden. There are circumstances where I will consider someone with," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "certain skills that may have gained an unpopular reputation. One of the other recruits that await us at Ostagar tried to rob me before I caught him. He was obviously a skilled rogue, thankfully not skilled enough to get away with all of my coin, but a talented and daring individual nonetheless."

Shiva laughed at his assessment. "You seem like the kind of man that thinks on a different note than most others."

Duncan nodded and smiled, "You could say that I do, yes. You also asked who I am. Most importantly, I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. I have been for the past two decades. Little beyond that is important, though you will probably learn much more about me in the time to come." Shiva nodded, seeming to think over all that he said. "Are you ready to leave? Our next stop is Highever. I will continue my search for recruits and you will have to accompany me until I am ready to return with you to Ostagar."

"I have all I need for now." Shiva cheerily raised her empty mug to him. The third mug had emptied much more quickly as she took the opportunity to refill her flask.

"Then we should leave immediately. I would like to cover as much ground today as possible before making camp. I would also like to test your skill in combat once we do set up camp."

Shiva smirked, "I look forward to it."

"Let's go." The guard that was hovering nearby was obviously relieved. He escorted them outside the city, under the constable's orders, and watched as they went down the road.

As they walked silence, Shiva thought about her unbelievable stroke of luck. How often was one given another chance like this? And with that, a purpose? She didn't feel that she deserved it, and she felt as though Death was still breathing down her neck. But she was intrigued by Duncan - it didn't hurt that he was handsome. She was excited about her chance to revel in the chaos of battle once more. It was as if she was a cat that was awarded a tenth life, one lived entirely borrowed time.