Legacy

Author's Note: This was updated faster than I thought it would. 8D

Disclaimer: I still don't own Dragon Age. Beka is mine, though.

Warning: Again – this is Dragon Age. What do you think will happen?

xxx

Peace, Chapter Two

The entire journey to Ostagar was spent thinking about her father's farewell. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was disappointed in her. Beka had a thousand things she wanted to say to him. I'm sorry. I know I haven't shown how much I appreciate you, Father. I didn't wish for this, Father. Now she didn't have that chance. Beka doubted she would even have the chance to go back to the alienage, to have a chance to start a family. Beka twisted the wedding ring she had taken from Nelaros's body back at the palace. She wasn't sure why she had taken it; it represented something that would never happen, and Beka sighed.

"Do you regret it?"

Beka's head snapped up to stare at her traveling companion, Duncan. "What?" she mumbled dumbly.

"Do you regret killing all those people to save your cousin?"

"I-I…why would you ask me something like that?"

"As a Grey Warden, your duty will be to protect by killing those who threaten the peace."

Beka frowned at him, but Duncan only tended to the fire, seemingly ignoring her. Licking her lips, Beka started slowly, "Just because the sword hilt fits your hand doesn't mean you enjoy the feel of it." She paused. "I have the skills. Am I not allowed to regret taking somebody's life, even if they deserved it?"

Duncan smiled, if only a little bit. "I suppose I was surprised at how easily you took up a blade to defend your friends, after showing restraint when confronting me."

Beka had surprised herself at how angry she had been during their capture. Watching them kill one of her friends, her fiancé, and Vaughan hurt her cousin…it had been too much. What right had he had – just because he was a human lord? That is why Beka hated nobles. That is why Beka took up arms and fought her way to Shianni, destroying her wedding dress in the process. Beka still had it, stuffed into the bottom of her pack, and stained with blood. A reminder of what had happened. If Beka hadn't done it, who would have?

Beka shrugged. "It's a good thing I'm becoming a Grey Warden, then – if I have to kill, I might as well be doing it for a good reason."

Even still…Beka heaved another heavy sigh.

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Beka received a much friendlier welcome than she had expected from a King. Of course, he had originally come out to greet Duncan, but being able to greet the new Grey Warden recruit was just icing on the cake, Beka was sure. Beka had tried to be as polite as possible, too tired to even to manage a glare at the young king. The journey had been rough. She couldn't keep the slightly impatient expression off her face, and he went off into the camp quickly. Duncan left her to her own devices, something Beka was very happy for, and went to his own tent saying, "Go find Alistair when you're ready. Don't take too long, however."

Alistair was an interesting character, in Beka's opinion. For somebody who was about to go up against the darkspawn horde, he was all smiles and jokes. It was a breath of fresh air for Beka, who, having spent nearly her entire time at Ostagar surrounded by anxious and scared soldiers was ready to scream. The entire camp was tense and there wasn't a place to go to escape the prayers being lifted up to their Maker. It made her jumpy. When Beka found herself teaming up with him and two other recruits, she kept close to the blonde Warden.

Even more killing, Beka thought as she drew her blade from the back of a Genlock. She was frowning and Daveth and Jory were staring at her, wondering why her lip was trembling. Oh, Maker, I want to go home.

She should have expected it. She had expected it. Beka knew Duncan was right; that being a Grey Warden meant she would have blood on her hands. Maybe she shouldn't be a Grey Warden, but what other choice did she have? It was either this or be executed for killing an Arl's son. Maybe that would have been a better choice, Beka thought bitterly as she slipped her long sword into its sheath. Then I wouldn't be stuck doing something I don't want to do…

"Beka…?"

She turned at the sound of her name to face Alistair. The group had gone ahead of her, but Alistair had paused to wait. "I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere."

"Not exactly the smartest thing to do here, you know?" Daveth called out. Beka's fist clenched.

"Please hurry," Jory's voice was kinder and a lot more polite, but it still made Beka grit her teeth. "We only need one more vial of blood."

"Of course," she grumbled, falling into step beside Alistair.

"Are you okay?" Alistair asked, watching her carefully, as if she would suddenly burst into tears. Beka snorted.

"I'm fine. I just can't stop thinking that I would rather be anywhere else than here."

They say it's an honor to become a Grey Warden. They can have their honor – I want my family. Do I sound whiny? I really, really don't care.

Pursing her lips, Beka crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her arm. She felt confined – she had burrowed armor, as she had none, and the feeling was something Beka was unused to. Strange how comfortable Alistair looked in his heavier armor, but Beka supposed it probably felt like a second skin by now. He had probably been fighting since he was a little boy.

With that thought in mind, what right did Beka have to complain?

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alistair hadn't left her side, and he was still looking at her with a slightly worried expression. Beka stared at him, coming to a halt. Alistair called ahead to Daveth and Jory to wait, but his full attention was on the small elf standing in front of him.

"When I become a Grey Warden," Beka began slowly, "After this ritual or whatever…I want you to remind me every day why I'm doing this." She motioned with a hand around them, pointing to the dead darkspawn just a couple of feet away.

Alistair gave her a odd look. "What reason would that be?"

Beka smiled ruefully. "To protect others from the monsters – it doesn't matter whether those monsters are human or darkspawn. Promise me, Alistair?"

"Of course," Alistair said, and his face was serious. It was such a rare expression for him, and Beka trusted him. For a Shem, he wasn't too bad. She nodded her head in thanks.

Beka stomped ahead of the group then, drawing a dagger and throwing it into the back of a Genlock archer.

xxx

Author's Note: It's going to be important to remember that Beka's desire to return home and have a normal life is going to be a driving factor in her decisions, but also knowing that it is her duty to protect. Beka is whiny. Beka is nineteen. She's been ripped from the only life she ever knew and thrust into a situation where she is told to kill and kill a lot.

Anyway – hope you enjoyed. Review, please?