Here is something that's been dancing around in my head for quite some time. Hope you enjoy. I'm completely making up everything about Qunari in here, except the few translations I get off of Dragon Age Wiki.

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I sit in my cage, leaning against the uncomfortable bars. The stench is unbearable. I had originally tried to keep my filth out of the cage, but when the villagers discovered this they started throwing it back in on me.

So I am wallowing in my own stinking filth when a voice hums through my head. I do not answer immediately. The dizziness from starvation and lack of water thwarts my attempts to focus clearly.

A tiny hand cups my cheek and turns my head slightly. I feel the smooth fingers check my pulse before returning to my cheek. I consider biting the hand, but before I can muster the energy to do so something is gently pressed to my lips. I do not fight it.

Water mixed with crushed sweet apple slides into my mouth. It is just a sip, but it revives me enough to open my eyes.

Warily, I look beyond my bars and find large green eyes staring at me with unhidden worry. I am captivated by the eyes, and it is a long while before I take in the rest of the picture. An elf woman stands next to my cage, pressed close to the bars so she could reach me. Her luscious brown hair falls down to her shoulder blades.

She is also wearing leather armor, and has a pair of daggers tucked into her belt. I snort. A woman that thinks she can fight.

Behind her stand two other women, a man, and a Mabari hound that is harnessed to a small buggy that holds two or three chests.

The elf shifts, and I turn my eyes back to her. She holds out a small leather satchel in one hand, and her canteen in the other. Both she holds out to me.

I continue to watch her for a moment more, then I gently reach up and take the canteen from her. I sip the sweet water again, and the crushed apples give me strength. I wonder if this is why she crushes the apples into her water.

She pushes the leather satchel closer to me. I hold out my hand and she drops it in. I untie the top. Inside is rye bread and a wedge of cheese. I look at her again. I do not know exactly what possessed her to give me these things, but I did not have time to ask.

She barks an order to the hound in a language I haven't heard before, then starts pounding back into the town.

The others follow in haste, but the hound shrugs out of his harness and lays down next to my cage. He keeps glancing around, like he is daring anything or anyone to come anywhere near my cage. I nibble on the bread and cheese until it is gone, and continue to sip on the sweet water.

Less than half an hour later, the elf woman is standing next to my cage, looking up at me. Without a word she shoves a key in the iron lock and the door to my cage is pushed open. I am puzzled. I was sure the Revered Mother would have taken that key to her grave.

I hand back the canteen and the empty satchel, which in turn is handed off to the man. He glares, but he does not complain.

I watch the elf woman again. When I do not move, she reaches in and extends her hand to me. I gaze at the offered palm, again wondering what drove this woman to help me.

I take her hand, and she helps me ease out of the cramped bars. My legs fail me after weeks of disuse, but she puts herself under my arm and wraps an arm around my waist. Unable to do anything else, I lean heavily on her tiny frame as she starts walking. I try to walk with her, but my legs refuse to hold.

I wonder how she is able to carry my dead weight so easily. Had I lost so much weight that even this tiny woman could lift me?

The smell of water fills my nose, and I hear the running of a river nearby. I watch the elf kick off her greaves and pull her bracers away from her arms before she begins to undress me. I protest, but I cannot fight what appears to be a tree manhandling me.

When I am naked, she lifts me over her shoulders again and walks me into the river. The water is near freezing, and the shock has me gasping for breath. She eases me down into the shallows and allows me to lean back against her legs.

Deft hands begin unraveling my braids, and she swats at me when I try to stop her.

"I will braid them back." She promises, her voice a lilting tune.

I cease my struggling and let her untie my braids. Once my hair flows down my back, she starts scrubbing me with a vanilla scented bar of soap. I take comfort in the smell, as it reminds me of home.

She lathers my hair, then begins to clean the grime from every strand. She runs the soap across my shoulders and back, rubbing with her hands to get the grime from my skin. I realize that she has not once flinched at the filth that covers me. Not even back at the cage.

I sigh and resign myself her steady hands, letting her clean me without complaint. Her male companion complains sorely when she moves to clean my groin and thighs, but I am glad she ignores him. I'm enjoying her ministrations, despite myself. I haven't had a bath since before I was locked in that filthy cage. It felt nice.

Once finished, she helps me out of the river and sits me down on the buggy, wrapping me in a big, thick Ferelden blanket that was oddly already warm. It smelled somewhat of dog, so I guess that she had the hound lay on it to keep it warm for me. I hear her rifling through one of the chests behind me, and she muttered, "Knew I had these for a reason. The Creator himself wouldn't let me sell them!"

She comes back holding a small bundle of clothes. She holds the shirt out first, and I lift my arms obediently so she could slip it over my head. It actually fit.

She kneeled at my ankles and slipped a pair of smalls up to my knees, the thick breeches following. I stood when she commanded, and she pulled them the rest of the way up my hips. Again, her male companion complains, and again he is ignored.

Digging through her equipment once more, she hands me a pair of leather boots that were my size.

"Set camp." She commanded to her followers, who immediately scrambled to do so.

She turned and fixed me with her hypnotic gaze. We ponder each other a moment.

She breaks the silence by telling me, "We will go to town and get you armor and a weapon tomorrow. Do you fight two handed or with sword and shield?"

"Two handed." I answer, watching her pointed ears twitch.

"There are some greatswoards in the big chest. Find one that suits you tonight, or if none suit you I'll see if I can't get you something else tomorrow."

She moves to leave but I grip her arm. The male puts his hand on the hilt of his sword. I ignore him and gaze into her eyes.

"What is your name?" I ask.

"Lyna. Lyna Mahariel."

"I am Sten."