A/N: And here comes second chapter - this time, reader, meet Sten!
The Worthy One
He certainly wasn't impressed by the small human who stood in front of his cage, eyes full bewilderent as she gazed at him. Surprised, yes, at the display of manners he would not expected in land which smelled like a wet dog (one dog, although not wet, was by her side) and dirt. But not impressed by woman who pretended to be a woman.
The Grey Wardens sure did lose some of their appeal in his eyes, when she introduced herself as one of them.
Slowly, by small steps, she forged herself a great deal of respect in his eyes. She was unafraid of standing up to him, even as he towered above her, her eyes flashing angry flames when he told her she either can't be a woman or she can't be a fighter. When he doubted her leadership, she stood in front of him, radiating such authority that almost against his will he bowed before her, once again falling into his place in formation.
When he told her about Asala, his soul, and she said "we'll find it, Sten," he felt comforted by her words, even if he thought she said them only as a consolation. Yet the joy he felt when she handed him his sword, his soul... He was man of few words; but even that few failed him as he run his hand over Asala's blade, the Warden giving him small smile, her eyes flashing in amusement.
With the Blight ended and the Warden dead, there was little for him left in Ferelden, the land of dirt and wet dog smell. He just paid his respects to the falled hero, yes, and stayed for the first few months to help in restoration of the devastated country. But afterwards, he left without telling anyone he's leaving.
Only Warden's warhound followed him, its eyes holding deep sadness at loss of its master.
It seemed strangely fitting that the long way back to Seheron ended just on one year anniversary of the battle. He walked the streets of the capital city, eyes of his fellow Qunari following his steps, lingering on the strange beast by his side.
When he stood in front of Arishok, to finally deliver the answer for his question, the Arishok listened to what he had to say without interruption, the scribes writing down his words.
The Blight is terrible disease which will strip you of your control and dignity. The Blight is the force of thousands Darkspawn, following after dragon. The Blight is destruction. The Blight is force which unites nations. The Blight can be won only by making great sacrifices.
He was leaving Arishok's halls, when his leader called after him. "Sten."
He turned around, waiting for Arishok's next words. The man gazed at him thoughfully, before asking one question: "Sten of the Beresaad, you had been away for many months, amongst those who are not followers of Qun. Were there any who were worthy warriors?"
There was no hesitation in Sten, as he answered: "Only one."
And the look in Arishok's eyes showed he understood exactly what Sten meant.