A/N After I read Behind Closed Doors I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen to Sienna, and what kind of person she would become. After about a month of spouting ideas at my sister she convinced me to start writing it all down and this chapter practically wrote itself. A million thanks to dantesdarkqueen for letting me use Aria and Sienna. This is just my take on things, strictly AU. Enjoy :)

Bioware owns the sand box and dantesdarkqueen owns the toys, I'm just borrowing them.

Edit 4/9/16 I changed some minor things in the first four chapters to line up with Dragon Age Inquisition events

Who is the betrayer?

Who's the killer in the crowd?

The one who creeps in corridors

and doesn't make a sound.

Florence + the Machine, Heavy in your arms.

It's my 19th birthday, 19 years to the day since my parents died.

19 years since Anders cut me from Aria's body and Fenris spirited me away from her killer.

19 years since I was last in the borders of Starkhaven and now I see the city's looming walls.

My name is Sienna and I have returned.

I never thought I would get this far undetected and yet here I am, standing right outside the city walls. I squinted up at the top of the ramparts over the main gate. Three flags perched rested there, whipping around in the wind. The middle was Starkhaven's official flag and on its right was the flag for the Free Marches. It was the one on the left that made me suppress a growl. The flag bore the symbol of the Divine, rarely used these days thanks to the dissolution of the Nevarran Accord and the start of the Mage-Templar war. Few leaders would risk supporting the now controversial chantry, especially after many people still blame the Divine Victoria for dissolving the circles. Despite the fact that the decision was made over a decade ago.

Not that the old chantry did anything useful when they were in power, I thought grimly. You systematically use and exploit a group of people for the better part of 900 years and you expect them just to lie down and take it? Blind overzealous fools.

There's a reason I support the College of Enchanters, and it's not just because my parents were mages. I sighed, resting my hand on my hip. All I had to do was enter the city undetected. This was going to be interesting.

I glanced down at my armor, I didn't want to be recognized when I got into the city. Not yet at least. I wore a hood that covered my long bright red hair and most of my face, a defense against being recognized as my mother's daughter. I was in my black light armor; it would help to stop anyone with sticky fingers whom I would encounter in the streets. My hood was my only protection against the onslaught of wind that seemed content to gather up all the bits from the fields and turn them into projectiles. The wind whipped around my legs allowing a moment for me to appreciate the fact that I wore black leather pants instead of that skirt that went with most leather armor. I was just as fond of my vest, a sturdy garment that protected my neck and torso but left my scarred arms in full view. I rolled my shoulders, readjusting my sword that was strapped to my back. I reached up with my good hand and felt the familiar hilt, my finger-less gloves allowing me to feel the leather grip and the base of the metal. I would always be holding Justice if I could but social norms dictated that she must stay in her scabbard when I wasn't in immediate danger. Funny thing is I'm always in danger. Luckily my training with Fenris taught me how to unsheathe her at a moment's notice so the extra seconds weren't too bad.

I passed through the city gates without much trouble. Other than a guard looking over my equipment, the giant sword on my back to be precise, and telling me that he would be watching me. Why is it always me? I glanced at the map I had brought with me and plotted the quickest way to the Royal archives and after that the Royal palace. I had a family friend to visit. Well, Justice did.

I entered the archives and a wizened scholar with robes that identified him as the royal archivist looked up at me from the tome he was reading.

"May I help you young lady?"

"I'm looking from a tome on the events 19 years ago; do you know where it is?"

"Of course right this way, what brings you to Starkhaven?" he asked as he led me through the stacks.

"How do you know I'm not from Starkhaven?"

He laughed at that "Not many mercenaries come to Starkhaven; Prince Sebastian made his opinion quite clear about the profession after his family was killed. Makes me wonder what a young women like yourself is doing chancing the displeasure of the Prince, ah here we are"

He pulled a heavy tome from the shelf and set it on a nearby table. I swallowed my response about what I would be willing to chance if my initial suspicion was correct and opened the tome.

I skimmed down the index till I found my birth month and flipped to that section. It took me a minute to sift through all of the entries until I found what I was looking for. The table strained when my fingers froze on the wood as I read the words that were calmly noting my parents capture, sentences, and imprisonment. There was nothing about their escape and worse, nothing about where they fell.

I closed my eyes and bent over the book and focused on the feeling of my fingers biting into the wood.

So ashamed of what you had done that you wish is removed from history my prince? You can remove the words from a page but I'm still here, you can't get rid of me. You will NEVER destroy Aria's legacy the way you sought to destroy her. I thought bitterly as I recalled her sentence of Tranquility.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I glanced up in surprise at the old man whose sad smile wafted down at me. He brushed a hair out of my eyes and I realized that my hood had fallen back.

"Horrible isn't it, a sad tale of misplaced rage and revenge that cost everyone in the end. Though I never thought a mercenary would be interested in a tragedy that happened 19 years ago, 19 years to the day in fact." He commented as he sat in the chair next to me, looking into my eyes with the endless wisdom that only comes through age and pain. It might have been comforting except that his knowing smile made him look like the cat that had caught the canary.

"I never thought I'd ever meet you."

I closed the tome and shifted in my chair so I was facing him, I eyed him warily not knowing what to expect. "You know who I am?"

"I always knew that you'd be back." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "You look so much like your mother, the same look in your eyes too."

I blinked in surprise, I knew that my parent's descriptions had been widely circulated but not to that detail. "You saw her?"

"I was the attending scribe during your parent's sentencing." He sighed closing his eyes, when he opened them again they were filled with grief. "The memory of her begging for your father's life will haunt me for the rest my life, she was so determined to save him." He sighed again moving over to his desk and began rifling through the drawers. "While our fair Prince was quite determined to see them both dead or worse." His mouth twisting into a grimace at the end.

He pulled out a key and moved to the back of the archives and unlocked the back room that held the classified documents and motioned for me to follow him.

"Prince Sebastian was adamant about keeping the specifics out of the common records, he didn't want mage fanatics setting up a shrine or templar fanatics defiling where they fell." He pulled a small tome off the shelf and handed it to me.

"These are the records of the Templar's debriefing and Prince Sebastian's personal recall of the events, the only way to know where they died is to look in his personal records which he keeps locked up in the palace."

I flipped through the pages confirming his description and glanced back at him.

"Why are you helping me? I mean don't think I'm not grateful but I was sure the second I was recognized I would be apprehended or worse."

He gave me a sad smile and led me out of the classified records, "Because during the sentencing I never once spoke up, I could have said something but I didn't and it has haunted me ever since. I didn't think they deserved to die; the man that destroyed the Chantry in Kirkwall was not the man that dragged before the Prince and sentenced to death. They were sentenced purely out of vengeance and rage, not justice. I knew it was wrong and didn't say anything to stop it. Maybe helping their daughter will help to right the wrong I did them. Maybe it won't, but I refuse to do nothing again."

I couldn't help my eyes tearing up, call me sentimental but knowing that not all of Starkhaven wanted my parents dead, and me with them, was a relief.

"Thank you, I'm sure they'd understand and judging from what I've heard about my mother you would already be forgiven."

He seemed to have a great weight removed from his shoulders, standing a little taller. "You have no idea what that means to me. Feel free to look over that book; I'll make sure you aren't disturbed."

I thanked him and found a secluded part of the archives to read.

You'll not unleash a demon upon this world, elf!

Too late for me. Save the baby. Please.

I won't let that happen! You'll never touch my daughter! She will always be safe from you!

Our baby... Sienna... love you both... so much...

ARIA!

I jerked awake, Anders' tortured scream still echoing through my mind. The book of records fell from my lap as I barely stopped myself from falling out of the chair. I groaned and rested my head in my hands. I had been having that same dream for the better part of two years, ever since Fenris and I did that job to rescue some noble's son from a blood mage cult. In desperation their leader had let loose a pulse of magic to stop Fenris from killing her. The magic got past his defenses and into his memory of Aria and Anders death, trapping us both inside.

When I was 15 Fenris told me what happened to them, but seeing it first hand. I had no words to describe what I felt watching my parents die. I don't think I ever will. We returned back to the present and Fenris finished driving his sword through the maleficar as I collapsed under the weight of my emotions, barely able to move. The flashback had only lasted moments but it left a lasting impression, it's also the reason I came.

I knelt down and picked up the book before walking back towards the front flexing my left hand to relive the onset of stiffness as I went. It had never fully recovered from being used to stop a templar sword mid swing. Then again, neither did the Templar.

I handed the book back to the old man and thanked him for his help. He smiled and wished me on my way. I pulled out my map and grimaced, the only way to the palace was to pass the monastery where the Templar's were housed. I drew up my hood and set out hoping that I wouldn't be recognized, not that I mind fighting templars but I rather not bring an entire battalion down on me. It might give them hope that numbers would give them a fighting chance. It won't.