Author's Notes: I was inspired to write this short after I read someone's headcanon that Duncan had a thing for Adaia back in the day. I actually wrote it a few years ago, and intended to eventually expand on it, but I never found the time or motivation. I decided to publish it today though. Who knows? Maybe someday I'll add something so I'll leave it as "in progress" for now.
If you're looking for recruits, try the Alienage.
Duncan stroked his beard as he read the words in the letter again. Maybe she was biased, being an elf and all, but Fiona made a good point. There were probably quite a few elves that would jump at the chance to join the Grey Wardens if it meant getting out of the slums. 'The slums within the slums, more like it,' Duncan thought. Denerim's Alienage was made up of ramshackle homes and apartments piled on top of each other along dirt and cobblestone paths. The one and only beauty in the place was the vhenadahl tree that branched out over the alienage square.
Could he find anyone with talent though? That was the question. The Grey Wardens only took in people that showed promise, and for good reason. It was not an easy life. The very first act of joining the Grey Wardens got many recruits killed. He would have to be selective now that he was Commander here in Ferelden. His sudden ascension had come as a surprise and a concern after about the disappearance of his former Commander, Polara. She'd perhaps been recalled to Weisshaupt on urgent business, but the situation did not sit well with him.
He sighed, making his way to the Alienage gates. It was a good idea. Of course, Fiona didn't usually have bad ideas. Still, he wasn't sure he'd find any promising recruits here.
As he stepped into the Alienage, his nose was assaulted by a mix of scents, both good and bad; the fresh scent of laundry hanging on the line as well as dirt and sewer water. He shrugged and kept going.
Until he felt a knife at his throat.
"Better turn back around, shem."
Surprised that someone managed to get the jump on him, Duncan glanced aside to see who wielded the small blade. His gaze fell on a small, woman with skin as dark as his own, her fierce eyes narrowed behind short strands of tawny hair.
He realized he'd been wrong about two things; there was definitely some talent to be found in the alienage, and the Vhenadahl was not the only beautiful thing here either.