She quickened her pace; her heart thumping against her ribcage. She thought she could fight it, but he still has that effect that hits you in the face when you're not expecting it. She hated feeling that way. The elves watched her with awe as she darted past them.
Wren opened the door of her old home. Her father left it to his only daughter, but as Wren was on the run at the time he passed away, she gave it to her cousins and any family that they create. With the money she received for being the Hero of Ferelden, she added a second floor to her little house.
Wren ran the tips of her fingers over the gritty wall, trying to remember all those years ago when the Alienage was frowned upon, when there was nothing but dull, everyday life flooding the small community. Well… more then there is now.
"Hello," Valora greeted her, raising her head from chopping a variety of decent vegetables that they could now afford. She raised her hand and smiled half-heartedly. Soris strolled down the newly constructed stair and sat down in a dining chair.
"Hey Wren," he smiled, "Long day?"
She dropped down in a seat across from him and sighed loudly.
"You have no idea."
She rested her head on her arms that were folded on the small table. Her eyes followed the grain of the aging wood.
"Hope told us about what happened at the Market," Soris said quietly. She kept quiet, "She said you looked angry when you saw… him."
Wren sighed; she lifted her head and rubbed her eyes tiredly.
"Did she, now?" the elf mumbled. Soris watched his cousin carefully, knowing that Alistair was a touchy subject.
"What happened… after she left?"
Wren's eyes snapped up to his; she slowly leant back in her chair, eyeing her prodding cousin.
"We… talked," she answered, "He asked when I arrived here. I told him last night."
Soris raised his eyebrows, prodding for more information again. Maker, she thought, he looks like so much like Father.
"He then asked about Hope – you should have been there, Cousin! He squirmed like a worm!" she chuckled darkly. Soris shook his head at his cousin. Suddenly a shriek filled the little room as Hope squealed down the stairs, Shianni chasing her making what she thought were dragon noises.
"Mummy!" the young elf giggled, running behind her chair, "Save me from the dragon!"
Valora laughed softly at her sister-in-law who was in an odd pose.
"No… no I don't think I can," Wren sighed dramatically, "You see, I need my trusty steed with me."
Hope raised her hands to her hips and glared at her mother; quickly, she put two fingers to her mouth and blew. The whistle made everyone flinch as it hit their sensitive ears. A scattering sound could be heard from the room above, it started to move down the stairs and into the room. Blaise, the old Mabari war hound, barged his way to his mistress. Wren's chair was pushed backwards and so was she as her dog jumped on her; his tongue flicked its way all over her face. Hope rested a hand on Blaise's back and looked straight at her mother.
"Here's your steed."