"A habitual disuse of physical forces totally destroys the moral; and men lose at once the power of protecting themselves, and of discerning the cause of their oppression."
- Joel Barlow
It was tradition, in the Alienage, not to formally name one's child until he or she had survived their first outbreak of plague. It could take months, or days. In this case, it took ten years.
In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't a very good tradition.
The elven child begged her mother to take her outside and train in combat as they did everyday, but the woman refused. People were rioting in the streets and it was too dangerous for young children. Even Adaia - a former Dalish huntress - could not be sure she could protect her daughter as she aged and the inadequate living conditions of the Alienage took their toll on her. She stayed out of love, love for her family. The Dalish were supposed to pity the elves who had submitted to human rule, but Adaia just couldn't bring herself to have such contempt towards her own kin.
The elves had lost so much, they couldn't afford to fight amongst themselves like mere shemlen.
When she had first arrived at the Alienage after leaving her clan, people had not looked kindly upon her. They had been so dreadfully misinformed about the Dalish, told they were savages by their elders all in hopes of preserving their culture as elves of the city. After all, instilling pride in a prisoner is only really possible by assuring them it could be a lot worse. That at least here, they had some dignity, some hint of a civilized lifestyle and a strong roof over their heads.
But as it were, Adaia's people had been misinformed about the Alienage elves as well. They were good, caring folk with a strong sense of community, and even though they may have given up much of what it meant to be an elf they had built something new with what they had. They were less like the shemlen than she had ever imagined; Especially Cyrion...
Evenually, after the birth of the child who now clung to her arm, a mass of dark hair hanging in her eyes, the Alienage's people begun to accept her as their own. And even though Adaia did miss the allure of the wilderness that had been her home, she had a duty to protect these people and remind them who they really were.
And when Adaia saw the human guards that had entered the gates cutting down innocent people whose only crime was fear for their lives, she decided she had to do something. So she took up her strange curved blade that she had promised to give to her daughter when she came of age, and went for the door.
As she placed her hand on the doorhandle however, a much smaller one grabbed it first. Adaia looked down to see her child with tears in her eyes.
"Don't, Mamae, please." The girl bagged, her tiny voice full of sorrow.
She knelt down and pushed a strand of black hair from her daughter's eyes. "I have to, Da'len, and I need you to be strong."
"Can I come with you?" She asked. Her mother smiled, proud of her daughter's courage.
"No, dear girl, you need to stay here with your father. Do not be afraid: the Gods go with me." She hugged the child tightly.
And then she was gone.
The little girl pressed her cheek to the splintering wood of the door until her heart stopped racing. "Maker, watch over her." she muttered.
That night she was sent to bed early, and she thought she'd done something wrong. Was Father angry that she had insisted on going with Mamae? No, there was only saddness in his eyes. Her mother hadn't returned and Cyrion had gone out, too. He'd been gone for hours and she wondered if she had been really bad and they didn't want her anymore, but didn't want to bother with taking her to the orphanage or just abandoning her on the streets of Denerim. She peeked outside the door, but the Alienage was silent and there was a strange scent in the air; like freshly turned soil and steel.
And she wondered, briefly, if the plague had got them all.
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But by morning Cyrion had returned, bringing with him a myriad of relatives and family friends and others who seemed to know her and she couldn't quite place names to their faces that filled their small home. She thought she could see soemthing behind their smiles.
A day came when the last of the sick were either cured or dead, and it was finally safe to be out in the sun again. This meant it was finally time for her Naming. Her mother had been gone for a fortnight and she asked after her every evening before she went to bed, recieving the same answer from Father - "Goodnight, my little girl." - and silence from the Maker.
She'd been taught by the Chantry that people were all born of the Maker, no matter what race you are, and that the Maker will listen if you have faith in Him. But Adaia had insisted this was not so, and that instead, elves were made by the Creators. She told her daughter this, and the little girl figured her mother was just special and that it had taken more than one god to forge her. So the girl prayed to the Gods to help their child now.
She remembered the intracate markings on her mother's forehead, curving all the way down to her jawline and even on the bridge of her nose. She had said it was a symbol of Mythal the Protector, Goddess of Motherhood and Justice, and that someday, she could get a one like it if she wished. On days when the weather was fair the little girl would draw similar designs in the dirt with her finger, invisioning them in colored ink on flesh.
They named her Jenji, and it became clear to her that her mother wasn't coming back.
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As the years wore on, Jenji grew to know happiness. Her childhood had come to a grinding halt the day she got her name and was told of her mother's death, a warrior's death though it was. Cyrion was getting too old for the long hours of back breaking manual labor which was the only honest way other than begging an elf could earn any coin - though he would never admit it. And so, gradually she took up the role of provider. Soris and Shianni joined them every night for supper which Jenji somehow found time to prepare between a long day's work as head of the newly implemented 'Alienage guard' the hahren had instated.
Though not officially affiliated with the Denerim guard it did help to keep the streets safe and frankly Jenji wanted to reduce the frequency the city guard had to visit the Alienage. At least she was putting Mamae's training to some use. After supper, Jenji went out to her night job, which Cyrion disapproved of, but it kept the family afloat. There was no shame in what she had to do if it kept her people fed.
You'd be surprised the work one could scrape up with a swift pair of daggers and a careful hand. There were some things nobles just didn't need, and she was more than happy to balance the scales in her people's favor. And even though she knew in the depths of her heart that Adaia wouldn't approve, Jenji's commitment to preserving the Alienage was stronger than her regret.
But one day her father announced that she was to be married to a young elf from Highever, and Jenji was furious. In her mind, he was trying to get rid of her. He was ungrateful for everything she had done, everything she had sacrificed.
"But Father, haven't I proved my worth?"
"It has nothing to do with that. I want you to be happy. I want grandchildren someday, and even though I will never be able to thank you enough for putting your own life on hold for me, it is time for you to move on while you still can." He said in his usual soothing tone.
"But this makes me happy, Father!"
"Working more hours a day than you get sleep makes you happy? Having to come home and look after your poor old dad makes you happy? Never getting to experience love and a family of your own and someone to take care of you for a change makes you happy?"
"Yes! This is my home, Father, this is my family. I don't need anything else, and I certainly don't need you paying off the first man who will have me as a wife!" Tears were running down her cheeks both in anger and despair.
"Jen, I worked very hard to find this match for you. Most women aren't so lucky, you either get paired with a lazy drunk or you die alone. I'm sorry, child, but that's the truth of it. We are a proud people but we are few and you should count yourself lucky to be alive right now." his voice was firm, but laced with saddness or..disappointment? And she knew he was thinking of Mamae. "It's what your mother would have wanted for you."
But she was just a child still and the fact that he would even speak of her sent her into a blind fit of rage and anguish. She had never had her typical teenage rebellion, if she did her family would have perished, and so she had always held her tongue...until now.
"Oh please, Mamae would have taken me off to join the Dalish if it weren't for her love for you, and you know it!"
"And you sometimes wish that she had, don't you? Then she would be alive and you would be free." It was not a question, he knew the answer already.
The words slipped through her teeth and from her lips before she could stop them, "You killed her, Father!"
It was the first and only time Cyrion had ever had to strike his daughter.
Then she stormed off up the stairs to the small dark room that had been hers as a child and now was perfect for sulking, rubbing her still stinging cheek and uttering profanities under her breath. And the worst part was that she knew she deserved it and more for her disrespect.
And the topic didn't come up again until the day of the wedding had arrived.
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That was the day she decided her life was destined to be one tragedy after another, and she had no idea.
The scene unfolded before her like a well-rehearsed play, each person playing their rolls in such a convincing manner it looked almost real...because it was real.
Human nobleman enters, drunk and clearly gotten lost on his way to The Pearl. He makes a big mistake intruding on what should be the happiest day of her life and regards her kin as little more than animals.
ELEVEN MAIDEN: Let go of me!
MAN-WITH-DEATH-WISH: "It's a party isn't it? Grab a whore and have a good time!"
His voice is thick and smooth as silk: "Savor the hunt, boys. Take this little elven wench here, so young and vulnerable..."
But he underestimates Shianni: "Touch me and I'll gut you, you pig!"
Then all the voices meld together and Jenji is so angry she can't see straight.
"Please, my lord, we're celebrating weddings here!" Someone begs, but that only angers the human lord.
MAN-WITH-DEATH-WISH: "Silence, worm!"
SLAP!
Then Soris is saying something to her because he must have seen the look on her face and she doesn't even know what she replys but he is urging her to be diplomatic and all she can think is why should she when this human isn't exactly being so diplomatic himself? No, there will be blood from this, she is sure of it.
MAN-WITH-DEATH-WISH: "And here is the blushing bride, come to keep me company!"
"I will do not such thing, shemlen scum! As head of the Alienage guard I demand you leave at once!"
And the noble says the most awful things to her and she realizes she's utterly helpless for the first time in years. And Shianni - Maker bless her - sees an opportunity and she takes it.
MAN-WITH-DEATH-WISH: "Do you have any idea who I am?"
But before she can reply with something very clever and twice as insulting the man's disgusting grin vanishes and his eyes are suddenly that of a rabbit when it finds itself in the jaws of a rabid dog, and he crumples to the ground like a corpse hits a riverbank.
The brave elven maiden stands over him, clutching the broken bottle in her hand and shaking only slightly, a look of triumph and shock and fear on her face. Jenji can't help but smile.
One of the bastard's friends speaks up: "Are you insane? This is Lord Vaughan, the Arl of Denerim's son!"
Shianni's expression turns to just shock and fear, the bottle falls from her hands which fly to her face, she stares at the unconcius noble. And now she is the rabbit who has shamed the rabid dog, evoking the wraith of the entire pack upon herself. A rush of confidence takes over Jenji, and maybe it's because she wants to defend Shianni and repay her for saving her from that pathetic excuse for a man or maybe she just has some of her mother in her after all.
"Take him home, I think you've all quite worn out your welcome here." The man opens his mouth to say soemthing cruel in a futile attempt to show his dominance over her, but the elf cuts him off before he can: "And just imagine what we will do to you if you don't leave at once, because I can assure you it will much worse than the pounding headache your friend is going to suffer when he wakes up. I'm thinking something a little more...perminent to remind you we're not all as vulnerable as you think."
COWARD: "You've got some nerve, knife-ears! This will end badly for you."
But it's just words, and the nobleman knows there must be more glass bottles and twisted pieces of metal and maybe even some proper weapons about the elven slums. And soon the Alienage is free of humans once more, as it should be.
Jenji puts a hand on Shianni's shoulder to calm her, and Soris tries to convince her it will be all right. Jenji assumes the role of bride and successfully distracts her cousin with talk of the wedding, and soon Shianni is smiling and laughing and drinking again, especially drinking.
Intermission...
Now it was time for her to meet her supposed betrothed, whether she liked it or not.
"Are you insane?" Soris had said, and it seemed to be the question on everyone's mind. "What are you going to do? Run off and join the Dalish?"
"It could happen..."
Her betrothed wasn't necessarily unattractive, perhaps her eyes just saw what she wanted to see. They stood there and forced small talk while he flattered her with compliments that could have been said for any woman. He really wasn't anything special, but she figured it could be a lot worse. He'd probably go for a few soverigns on the Tevinter slave market, she thought darkly, but dismissed the idea as Soris and his bride-to-be returned to release her from this torture. She had no specific plans yet, but she knew that she wasn't getting married even if it killed her.
"What is it, Soris?" She said sardonically. "What could possibly be so important that you would pull me away from conversing with my dream man? I mean I know it's bad luck for him to see me before the wedding but-"
"-We have another problem."
"What do you mean? Is it Vaughan? Has he returned?" She asked, serious once again.
"No, but you're close. Another human just walked in."
And indeed, Soris was right, that was certainly no elf.
Jenji was tired of humans, she wanted nothing more than to go home and burrow under the covers like a good little rabbit rather than stand against every shem who strode into the Alienage on her wedding day with some odd sense of entitlement just to make trouble.
And yet, this human seemed perfectly reasonable. He assured her he had no intention of using his massive shiny weapons, but that wasn't saying much considering Vaughan had also assured her he and his friends were only there for a party. People never say what they really mean.
"Please, ser, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We've had enough unpleasantness from your kind today." The human only smiled warmly at her. Was he mocking her? It wasn't like the twisted, depraved smile Lord Vaughan had given her: it was genuine.
"I am sorry, but I'm afraid I cannot do that. I have business here with your elder. But I can promise that I am not here to intrude on your festivities, my lady. Please, enjoy your big day, you have my congratulations." Jenji could hardly believe his words, with good reason of course.
"I don't want to have to force you to leave." Jenji warned, although it wasn't often a human wandered in claiming to be friends with the elder, she couldn't take that risk.
"My lady, I'm sure it has not escaped your notice that I am both armed and armored. Any fight between us would be rather one sided I'm afraid." Was he...? Did he actually find this amusing?
"I am no stranger to battle."
He chuckled. "Of that, I have no doubt."
"Do my old eyes deceive me? Duncan, my friend, it's been too long!" Valendrian exclaimed as he approached them.
"You really know this man, hahren?"
"Indeed, child. This is Duncan, leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens! I've known him for more than twenty years now, though I can't say what brings him here of all places."
Jenji blushed. "Any friend of the elder's is welcome here," she said.
"I'm afraid the worst has happened, Valendrian, a Blight threatens the land to the south. A horde of darkspawn gather there and the king has called an army to fight it. Grey Wardens are needed now more than ever, but we are few in Ferelden, and I am seeking recruits." Duncan explained. The elder's expression changed from cheerful to concerned in an instant.
"I see...Well, Duncan, I don't know what to say, we are celebrating weddings after all..." The elf trailed off, deep in thought.
"I understand. When I heard that Adaia's daughter had not only lived, but was getting married, I had to see for myself." She was shocked, he had come for her? How could that be? She had heard tales of the Wardens before, of how they once rode griffins and chased the darkspawn back underground so long ago, but never had she dreamed...
"Ah, well I doubt you'll have much better luck convincing Cyrion to give up his only daughter on her wedding day than you did convincing him to give up his wife." Valendrian smiled.
"You tried to recruit my mother?" She asked, wondering why Father had never mentioned it before.
"Tried and failed." Duncan nodded. "I never made the offer, Cyrion insisted that I not put such ideas in her head. It seems she passed her knowledge onto you though."
"How do you know that?" She was a little curious and little alarmed.
"I know many things," he smiled again. "There are also very few who would stand up to a nobe and his men like that if they didn't have at least some skill in defending themselves."
Jenji Tabris looked away. "It had to be done," she stated.
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She asked the Warden a few more questions before Soris politely informed her it was time for the wdding to begin. A lump formed in her throat as she walked with her father under the shade of the vhenadahl.
The stage is set, and the play resumes.
"Good luck, Soris," she whispers.
"Good luck, Cousin," he returns.
Valendrian makes his speech: "Today we celebrate not only this joining, but also our bonds of kin and kind. We are a free people, but that was not always so. We must remember our bonds to each other and take what moments of joy we can in times of trouble. We are blessed with our freedom, the Alienage which protects us, and the close community we share. And as our community grows, we must remember this."
A priestess steps up and begins the ceremony, and the knot in the pit of Jenji's stomach tightens.
PRIESTESS: "In the name of the Maker, who brought us this world, and in whose name we say the Chant of Light I-"
The man with a death wish, Vaughan, pushes through the crowd of elves, knocking people to the ground and joins the gathering on stage. This time he brings a troop of armored guards, probably just as drunk as he is.
PRIESTESS: "Mi'lord, I wasn't expecting..."
VAUGHAN: "Terribly sorry to interrupt, Mother, but uh, I'm having a party...and we're dreadfully short of female guests." He circles around the women, touching them, and rage flares up in Jenji's eyes once more.
PRIESTESS: "Mi'lord, this is a wedding!" For her part, at least she tried.
The noble laughs: "If you want to dress up your pets and have tea parties, that's your business, but don't pretend this is a proper wedding."
Silence.
VAUGHAN: "We're just here for a good time, aren't we boys?"
One of his little friends pipes up: "Yep, just a good time with the ladies!"
Everyone is stricken with horror at the realization that there is quite simply nothing they can do, and that as the Arl's son, this is his right.
VAUGHAN: "Now, let's take the one in the tight dress, and...where's the bitch that bottled me?"
GUARD: "Over here, Lord Vaughan!" Shianni stays strong but Jenji can see the fear in her eyes, she knows what she must be thinking; you said it would be all right, you promised...
The elven maiden tries to fight, but that only entices the human lord further: "Ohh, I'll enjoy taming her!"
Jenji grits her teeth as not to scream out something she might regret, at least not right now, and Nelaros promises he won't let them take her. Which is a nice thought, but he's barely out of boyhood and hasn't been trained with a blade.
"I can handle myself."
"You shouldn't always have to."
VAUGHAN: "Ah, if it isn't the little lady from before. Have we changed our mind yet? Won't you join me for a little fun?"
NELAROS: "Leave her out of this, you feigns!"
VAUGHAN: "But how can I? Don't you worry, elf, I'll bring her back in one piece. Now if you'll kindly excuse us, the adults are talking here."
"Don't you dare touch me!"
The human lord shakes his head: "Such a pity, and you are a pretty one, too. I really hate it to have to come to this."
Jenji feels something hard and blunt collide with the back of her skull and she collapses. Her eyes catch sight of the great Tree's branches before it is replaced by Vaughan's wicked smile as he looms over her. Blackness overcomes her and she feels cold steel against her skin as she is lifted up by the arms of two of his guards. The same fate, she figures, befalling the other women.
Isn't that how it always goes? Comedies end in weddings, while in tragedies everyone dies. Jenji just isn't quite sure what to make of this.