Here we go, Chapter 1! Thanks so much to Eve Hawke, Jaden Anderson, Yuki-sama12, blahblah88 and Melysande for the reviews and follows!

I've now updated the cover so you can all see Arria in all her glory, I'm not the best in the world at describing, so I thought I would just let you all see her instead.

I will reveal more of Arria's and Nileesa's past as time goes on, for the moment you will only get to see the same snippets that the characters around her do I'm afraid; would ruin all the suspense if I gave it all away too early!

Disclaimer: I do not own DA:O or any of its characters. I do however own all of my own characters and my own little nation of Nileesa.


Chapter 1: Last Days of Freedom

Arria's eyes opened after barely three hours of sleep, as she had done since the beginning of her captivity. It took her a few seconds to remember that she was no longer Arl Howe's slave languishing in his dungeon, but a free woman, travelling with Duncan to become a Grey Warden. The elder man sensed her stirring and turned a gentle smile towards her. "You should rest some more, my dear. You will need all the strength you can muster for the days ahead, for travelling if nothing else."

Arria smiled wryly at him and sat up slowly, mindful of the tenderness in certain areas of her body. "It'll take some time to train both my body and my mind out of the thinking that has kept me alive these past months, I fear. I could never sleep too long for fear that someone make take advantage of my vulnerable state." She sighed deeply. "How do I start again now? I was convinced I would rot in that cell, and now I have a future again…"

"You can find the answer to that question when we reach Ostagar. Your future will become a certainty once you join the Grey Wardens, and help us defeat the Blight." Arria nodded slightly and turned her gaze to the small fire which warmed their tiny camp. Heat had become a luxury to her recently, and feeling the warmth radiating from the flames gave her much comfort and reassurance. She stretched out a shivering hand towards the heat, but before she could control it, a barrage of memories assaulted her.


The heat was uncomfortable as Merlinne burned around her. The people of Nileesa had sought refuge in the Citadel, but it had not been enough to keep out the invading armies. Her nation was dying around her, even as she fought desperately to save it. "Arria!" She spun around while decapitating a Tevinter mage towards her mentor, watching as he kicked and broke the neck of another soldier. "Get to the top of the Summoning Tower and help the other two! They'll need you!"

She violently shook her head. "There's no way in hell I'm leaving you down here to fight them on your own; you'll be killed!"

He shook his head sadly and quickly enveloped her in a warm embrace, at which she clung to him tightly. His familiar scent calmed her like no other did: it was a scent she had known for nearly twenty years and the tight hug was as well known to her as the back of her hand. Though they may not have been related by blood, they were a brother and sister: they had been since her parents had died and the man before her had taken in her and her sister, two orphans left to the harsh world. She looked up into his face as he pulled back, gazing into eyes which may have only been eleven years older, but had seen more than anyone should have to in a lifetime. "They hold the only chance of our people, and they need you. If they fall, our nation is lost." He dropped a quick kiss to her forehead and looked at her with teary eyes. "I am so proud of you, my little sister, I hope the Maker sees fit to reunite us when you at last join me."

Arria gasped at his words, not willing to believe what he was saying. "You are talking nonsense! Come with me to the Tower!"

He smiled sadly. "If I don't stay, you might be overrun by the time you even get there. Our paths are laid before us, and we have to follow them now before it all ends. Maker's blessings go with you, Arria."

Before she could comprehend what was happening, he had sprinted off and thrown himself into a cluster of mages, determined to bring as many of them down as he could. Her heart screamed out in agony as a column of fire was raised within the mages, incinerating many of them. And him as well. "Garros!" Knowing there was nothing more she could do, she ran towards the Tower, hell-bent on avenging all those killed. The Free Marches, the Tevinter Imperium and Nevarra would all pay…

Her blades sliced through soldiers and mages alike as she raced toward her goal, her movements too quick and fluid for any to either see her coming or to stop her. The skills her mentor having taught her powered her advance, and they themselves were fuelled by her anger and grief at his death. As she neared the Tower, she came across what she had feared. Abominations. It was not unknown for the Tevinter magisters to corrupt ordinary people and turn them into Abominations, but the hatred grew within her as she recognised the remains of Nileesan armour: these were her own people, twisted and mutated into the creatures before her. Gripping her blades tightly, she ripped through their throats and just managed to roll out of the way of the explosions signalling their demises. He was now forced to slay her own people on top of everything else. It just wasn't fair! They didn't deserve this!

The Tower loomed above her, but before she could make it inside a creature emerged from the entrance that made her blood run cold. A Pride Demon, and once it spotted her she knew there was only once way this encounter could end: either it died or she did. It charged towards her and she deftly rolled away while slashing at one of its legs. The beast roared its displeasure and swung out wildly with its hand, smacking straight into her chest and sending her flying into the remains of a nearby wall. Arria coughed up blood and knew that a couple of her ribs were broken; she couldn't take another hit like that, or it would be the end of her. It made to charge at her again, but collapsed upon one of its legs as her slash took effect. Realising she had partially immobilised the demon, she struggled to her feet and leapt away as it slammed a hand down upon where she had just stood. Seizing her chance, she ran upon a pile of rubble and kicked off from the wall next to it, launching herself upon the demon's back. It reached back to rip off the human but before it could, she roared in fury and brought the blades down and straight through the demon's skull. A faint cry was the last sound it made before slumping in defeat and crashing to the ground. Arria laughed out briefly in disbelief that she had just survived the demon, but her victory was short lived.

A deafening explosion above her directed her attention upwards, and she saw the top of the Tower being blasted apart. Pieces of rubble were raining down, but she cared not if it struck her. Her last two friends, the last two pieces of her family would have been atop the Tower when it was destroyed, taking them with it. As she prepared for the stone to strike her, her thoughts took her away from the carnage raining around her to the some of his last words.

Looks like I'll be joining you sooner than you hoped, Garros.


Arria just managed to wrench her mind out of the past and back to the present. Her body shook with the force of the memories she had not been prepared for. It had been just over a year now, a year since her old life had ended in a whirlwind of destruction and death. Maker only knows why she had been spared, but for months afterwards she had wished nothing more than to join them. It seemed at last she had figured out why she'd been chosen to live: she was to become part of another war, the war against the Blight. "Memories?" She snapped her head towards the older man and nodded sharply. "Pardon my curiosity, my dear, but how did you survive the attack on your homeland? For a long time I was convinced your people had been wiped out."

She laughed bitterly. "It wasn't through personal choice I lived. I wanted to die and join them."

"Your people, or your family?"

Tears built in Arria's eyes as she remembered the grief. "My family. I lost my best friends, my brother and sister…My brother died right before my eyes. Right in front of me! He was trying to kill as many Tevinter mages as he could. My two best friends were on top of the Summoning Tower when it was destroyed, while the last of our friends was in the Chantry, helping to heal some of the wounded. It was reduced to rubble by the mages too. And my sister…she was hiding in the castle with many of the families of those in the Citadel Guard. It was the first building to fall…They chose to kill our families before fighting us! The cowards!" She brought her hand down upon the wooden log she sat on and hissed in satisfaction as she felt the pain shoot up her arm and bring her back from her memories. Duncan waited patiently as she reigned herself in, admiring the strength of the young woman before him for choosing not to take the easy option and throw herself into Death's waiting arms and join her family. She was too strong for that. He was now extremely hopeful she would survive the Joining. "But to answer your original question, I was rescued by a small group of gypsies who were sympathetic to our people. I was bitter since they were made up from Antivans and Orlesians, but I was too weak to do anything about it. They found me buried in the rubble of the Summoning Tower and helped me back to health, though it took the best part of two months for me to be fit for travel. The first chance I got, I left them and headed for the one country that wouldn't judge me for my heritage."

"Ferelden."

"The Fereldens do not know of us, at least not generally, so my slight accent wasn't questioned. I thought I could be safe here. I hadn't even been here a month when Howe got his hands on me. 8 months later, and you found me." Arria's eyes followed Duncan carefully as he stood and walked over to his pack and the small sack he had carried with him since their leaving of Amaranthine. After rustling around inside it for a bit, he pulled out several sheets of paper that Arria instantly recognised.

Her eyes widened as Duncan handed her the pieces and she looked upon the sketches done for her by her younger sister, Rena. Many of them were of places the two of them had visited, but two at the back stole her breath. She hadn't looked at them since losing her friends: her grief too raw. One year later however, they had become her last tactile object for remembering them.

The first showed her with her mentor, Garros. He was a tall man at 6'5", towering over Arria's already tall 5'9", with short blonde hair and dark brown eyes. His strong wide chest had been obvious beneath his tight black leather armour, but you would not have known his strength in the tender way held Arria. "This was my mentor and brother, Garros." Arria just about stopped her voice from squeaking as the tears threatened to pour out. "He had taken in my sister and I, just after our parents died. Our father was killed in an assassination, and our mother died in giving birth to Rena. Garros always thought that she wanted to join our father, regardless of what would happen to us, and I think he might have been right, now that I have felt the raw emotions involved with grief. He raised us, and he taught me all of my skills. He taught me to be a rogue, and showed me when to spare and take a life. After he left us in the care of an elderly couple, and went to join the Citadel Guard. He was the only family I had ever known since my parents died before I could remember them." Arria placed the paper carefully at the back of the pile and revealed the next one. "It was because of him that I met this lot.

The next sketch showed her sitting in a cluster with other Guards. She pointed to a mage standing behind her. He was fairly tall, with short brown hair and a sturdy build, not muscular however. "Aleron was a gentle soul, but he was the most powerful mage in all of Nileesa. Mages were rare since most of them went to Tevinter, but Aleron chose to stay with us. He taught us how to resist Blood Magic; he knew it but never used it, no matter how desperate the situation. The skills he taught us were invaluable when Tevinter attacked; it meant we could actually fight back." Her hand drifted to the young woman standing next to him in the sketch. Her long black curly hair tumbled down to her waist and a gentle smile could be seen on her face. "Alira was also a mage, but she dedicated herself to healing, choosing to fight with a bow should the need arise. She was quite unique in that regard." Duncan saw Garros was once again next to Arria in the sketch and had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It was how Arria was reacting with the last person in the sketch that caught Duncan's eye. He seemed to be similar in height to her, with long black hair tied back into a ponytail and wearing silver armour. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and his own were holding her tightly around her waist, showing a closeness between the two.

"And who was this?"

Arria sighed deeply and drew her finger down the page sadly. "Tomerre. He was such a tortured soul. He had joined the Citadel Guard at the same time as me; a training accident with him is how I met Alira actually." She smiled slightly, remembering their closeness. "He had been kicked out by his family when he was 14, so he didn't exactly embrace friendship easily, but we eventually broke through. He still kept a slight aloofness for a few years, but I chipped away at that shell of his until we became very close. I still miss him dearly...I miss all of them dearly. My one wish is to someday avenge them."

Duncan realised that there would be more to her story, but her emotional outpouring had taken a lot out of her. She stood and picked up on of the blades Duncan had given her and began cutting away at the leather armour he had given her, customising it and focusing her mind away from a life since lost. As he watched her hack at the leather, his thoughts drifted to the other young Grey Warden awaiting them at Ostagar.

I think the two of them will get along fantastically, and perhaps they can help each other heal.


Four more days of travelling brought the pair of the to the gates of Ostagar, and the surprise of King Cailan himself greeting them. She watched carefully as the king and Duncan embraced warmly, reflecting their friendship before all there. It had been a long time since Arria had been among royalty, but she remembered the decorum taught to her by Garros.

"Allow me to introduce you, Your Majesty. This is Arria Rivell, a young woman I met in my travels through Amaranthine," said Duncan.

"Ho there, friend. The Grey Wardens are a noble order, you should be honoured to join their ranks," greeted Cailan with a smile on his face.

Arria smiled back gratefully and bowed her head slightly. "I am, Your Majesty," she responded.

Cailan looked at her intrigued. "I don't recognise your accent. You aren't Ferelden by birth I take it?"

Arria seized up momentarily, but she soon realised Cailan had no idea of her heritage. "No, Your Majesty. I was born to another land and came to Ferelden less than a year ago." It was only now that Arria realised just how many men there were around her, and she involuntarily flinched. Relax, girl. They aren't going to do anything to you.

"In that case, I owe you much gratitude for helping defend our country against the Blight. Please, if you would do me the honour, once this battle is over, I should like to get to know a little bit more about you." Cailan noticed the split second panic take over her eyes, but when it went away quickly, he thought maybe it was just nerves.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Duncan noticed the subtle change in her voice, betraying her unease. He would have to help calm her down after.

"I hate to cut this short, but I must return to my tent. Loghain awaits to bore me with his strategies. Farewell for now, Duncan, my lady." Cailan the turned away and went across the bridge with the rest of his guards.

Once they were out of sight, Arria let loose a small sigh of relief. "The king is a good man, you need not fear his company," spoke Duncan softly.

Arria quickly turned towards him, and before looking away again. "It was a reflex, I don't know what happened. I just noticed how many men there were to start with, and then when the king said he'd like to 'get to know a little bit more'…I'm just used to that having another meaning nowadays."

Duncan smiled at her. "You will grow more confident, with time. For now, I want you to seek out another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. He will help you prepare for the Joining." Arria had tried to probe Duncan for information about the Joining for the last couple of days, but the Warden had steadfastly refused to tell her anything, so she simply settled for nodding in affirmation. "Feel free to explore the camp as you wish, I just ask that you do not leave its boundaries. If you have any other questions, there are many knowledgeable folk here; it may do you some good to learn more about Ferelden if you are to not draw attention to yourself."

Arria nodded her head gratefully. She had actually picked up a fair bit in the short stint of freedom she'd had before her imprisonment, so that was not an issue. Though she was grateful for Duncan being aware of that particular hurdle. No, she was more concerned with finding a healer. Some of her injuries had flared up again recently, from before and after coming to Ferelden. An old injury had been aggravated by their great amount of travelling in the past few days: hours of walking for several days after months of barely any movement had left their mark. It would have taken only two days to reach Ostagar were it not for that inconvenience, but unfortunately their pace had been dictated by how much Arria's body could take. She would have pressed on were it not for Duncan's insistence she rest to regain her strength. That little niggle she was sure could heal in a couple of days rest, but as for her internal injuries from months of abuse…she still was still in a fair amount of pain and she bled daily. There was a good chance she had picked up either an infection or been left with potentially permanent damage, and she wanted to know the extent.

As she wandered into the main camp, she smiled at the bustle of activity. A particular mage standing by a tree caught her attention, and she approached her slowly. The woman was older, if her grey hair was anything to go by, but her posture showed her wisdom that came with that age. When Arria came closer, she smiled at her gently. "Hello young one, you wouldn't happen to be Duncan's newest recruit, would you? I am Wynne, senior enchanter among the Circle of Magi."

Arria nodded in reply, before speaking. "I am Arria, and yes, I am Duncan's apprentice. Pardon the intrusion, but you wouldn't happen to know who here is a skilled healer, would you?"

Wynne smiled warmly at the young woman, already impressed with her. "You are in luck, my girl, for I am a healer. You do not appear to have any wounds, what could you need my skills for?"

Arria considered her next words carefully, and prayed that Wynne would not be too nosy. "It is more…internally I am concerned."

Wynne looked at her searchingly for a couple of seconds, making Arria sweat considerably, before she held out her hands; a blue light illuminating them as Arria could feel her pain lessening. It seemed as if there was not as much damage as she feared, though from the look on Wynne's face it seemed as if she was getting the wrong impression. When she was finished, the mage looked at her harshly before speaking. "Might I suggest you keep your…exertions, to a minimum for the next few days. The tenderness will remain for a while yet."

Arria felt a flare of fury burst through her body at the what Wynne was implying, but soon reigned it in as she realised to correct the mage, she would have to reveal the truth, and she was not willing to admit her shame. Instead, she bowed in gratitude and walked off swiftly. It matters not what she thinks of me, I don't need her approval.

Her furious thoughts came to a halt when she heard a mage and a soldier having a heated discussion nearby. When curiosity got the better of her, she approached them gradually, just picking up bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message." Arria's eyebrow rose in amusement as she kept her distance from the warring pair. The mage seemed pretty ordinary, but the soldier caught her eye: tall and muscular with short blonde hair. Wait, it's not quite blonde, it more amber than blonde. She came back from her musings just in time to hear his comment about naming one of his children after the mage. Arria couldn't help herself and a few giggles escaped her, drawing brief attention to herself. The mage subjected her to a glare, but she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow; daring him to do something about it. The soldier smiled in appreciation at her stance and laughed quietly when the mage stalked off angrily. "You know, one thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."

Arria smirked at him while keeping her arms crossed. "You are a very strange man."

He smirked right back. "You're not the first woman to tell me that. Wait…" He cast a scrutinizing eye down her form. "You're not another mage, or you?"

She scoffed at that one. How daft is he? "Do you see me walking around in a dress and waving around a stick?"

He burst out laughing at that comment, leading Arria to give a small smile of amusement in response. While she wasn't paying particular attention, he took a better look at her. She had beautiful caramel hair which came to below her shoulders with smoky blue eyes that he was sure had captured more than one man's imagination. Her leather armour had been modified slightly since she had cut away the midsection, leaving her stomach bare, while fitting her womanly curves. He noticed she was very thin, almost too thin, but put that down to keeping a trim figure. "You've got me at that one. Wait a minute, I do know who you are. You're the young woman Duncan recruited in Amaranthine, aren't you? Glad to meet you."

"You must be Alistair, then."

"That I am, Duncan told you about me?"

"He told me to look for the one cracking the lousy jokes, saying that would be you."

"Hey!" Alistair pouted slightly in offense, but soon realised she was teasing from the sparkle in her eyes. "You know, that doesn't sound like something Duncan would say."

She chuckled. "That's because it wasn't, I just couldn't resist a golden opportunity." She relaxed her posture and uncrossed her arms. "I'm Arria."

"Right. That was the name." Alistair's face turned thoughtful for a second. "You know it just occurred to me that there haven't been many female Grey Wardens. I wonder why?"

"Is that your way of saying you would like more women in the Grey Wardens?"

"And why not? Not that I'm some…drooling lecher or anything…Please stop looking at me like that," he implored when she raised an eyebrow and stared at him sceptically. He was growing uncomfortable under her gaze so coughed and changed topic. "I will be joining you as you prepare for the Joining, if you have any questions, let me know. If not, lead on."

She smiled gently at him. "You know, I think I might enjoy travelling with you."

Alistair looked at her disbelievingly. "Really? Huh, that's a switch."

Arria's smile vanished and the smirk was back. "Don't get used to me being nice though, I wouldn't want you to let your guard down."

Alistair smiled back. "I think you're right, this is going to be fun." The Grey Warden held out his hand for Arria to take, but didn't notice the momentary flinch on her part. She willed herself into relaxing, surprised at how easily it came around him, and shook the offered hand. I might just find some good company in him.


Please review to let me know what I can improve etc. I am by no means a proficient writer, and can only improve with your help!

Negative Angel