A/N: I'm so sorry it took me so long with this chapter! Character flow was a bugger this time around, but reordering some events settled it. I hope it's worth the wait! ConCrits and reviews and even smileys, as always, are greatly appreciated. ^_^

"What are you doing?"

Ryna started at Leto's whisper from his place on the floor. It was dawn, and she had left her own bedroll to sit at a window. It had been a bit of a chore, wedging herself into the small sill, but she was nothing if not determined. She had congratulated herself for doing it silently as well, but it had only taken Leto ten minutes to sense a change in his surroundings.

"Trying to meditate. Go back to sleep," she whispered.

There was a pause before she suddenly felt the heat of a body near her. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that an elf could step as lightly as a rogue, but warriors were never that quiet. She could feel his steady gaze on her, but she refused to look at him. Here, in the early morning, she felt the most vulnerable. She felt too much at home in the half-light, and too often spoke too truthfully.

"What are you meditating on?"

"Life."

"In Ferelden."

"No. Well, sort of. Just, life in general. How to treasure it, ways to protect it, why to continue living it." She felt him tense, but kept her eyes on the canopy of trees that spilled over the wall a ways from the window.

"I didn't take you for suicidal." There was a wry tone that didn't quite mask the fearful concern in his voice. She didn't flatter herself to think that worry was for her. There was someone else in Leto's life that held all his attention, Ryna knew it.

"I'm not. I'm reminding myself that, no matter the duties I impose upon myself, whatever higher power is out there gave me this life for a reason. Whatever hardships I encounter, I have to have faith that I am strong enough to endure them. That not only can I survive, but I will thrive."

"That is… a very wise attitude." Leto walked around to face her, leaning half against her feet braced against the sill and half against the ledge of the window. "I must admit, you struck me as more of a fighter than a philosopher. You are full of surprises."

"Oh, not really. Wait until I put an itch poison on the pommel of your sword. That will be a surprise." Leto chuckled softly.

Ryna turned to look at him then, and felt herself blush. He wasn't wearing his tunic. How could she not have noticed that? His side was pressed against her feet. Suddenly his skin felt hot against hers, and Maker, those muscles. Those muscles were everywhere, hard under his tanned skin. His arms were corded with them, evidence of long hours wielding the greatsword she had first seen him with. How could an elf be that buff? Her eyes traveled up his arms and across his chest and down…

She tore her gaze from the body beside her and placed it firmly back on the lightening sky. There was a short, furious debate in her mind on whether or not she should move her feet, and in the end she stayed as she was. No way would she give him the benefit of seeing her flustered. If he hadn't already noticed.

By Andraste, why was she acting like a blushing maid on her wedding night? Sure, she had been so eager for her bath last night that she hadn't bothered to make sure Leto had left before beginning to strip. And then she had been so angry at Torpa that she had walked around in nothing but a drying cloth. It wasn't like she had done it on purpose. Really, she'd rather just call things even and be done with it. No one would have to mention anything about any of… that.

"The dawn watch guard will be by in a bit. I suggest we move away from the window, lest we get an arrow for being where we shouldn't."

"And here I thought I was the wise one."

"Hm."

The smile Leto gave her was far too reminiscent of the kind her father gave her. A faint quirk of the lips, almost unnoticeable unless you had learned to see it. It was the kind of smile Father gave her when he thought one of her lame jokes was funny, but didn't want her to know. The sort of smile that told her he was truly at peace, in that moment.

It reminded her that it would be foolish to form any bond here. Leto could not be her friend. The only friends Ryna needed - the only friends she should want - were her mother and father, and Bethany and Carver. And they were in Ferelden. Tevinter held nothing she could want.

Her face must have shown her sudden change in mood, because Leto gave her a questioning look. She all but jerked herself from the confines of the cramped windowsill and almost fell into Leto. With an awkward evasion she steadied herself, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Heh. Sorry. Just…" Ryna scrabbled to explain away her actions. "Nervous about the testing, later."

Leto stepped back, and the spell of the early morning broke, just as a beam of light shot across the ground outside. "Right."

He left her to her thoughts after that, barely speaking a word to her as the barracks began to stir. He didn't try to divert her attention through morning meal, or assure her she would do fine. She guessed he probably saw her testing as one of his own. A slave was always looking to prove their worth to their master, and this was just another chance to do that. It felt wrong to see that in Leto, somehow.

The morning crawled by as Ryna watched the trainees spar, inspecting each of them carefully for weaknesses to exploit and strengths to avoid. Part of her wondered if the Captain was giving her a passive leg up, allowing her to watch the action. Except for the display of speed against her slaver, and hand to hand against Torpa - who still insisted on eyeing her appreciatively - no one had seen her fight. On both occasions, she had the benefit of surprise. Would any of them have paid enough attention to figure out even a modicum of her tactics?

Of all the trainees, it was, again, Leto that worried her the most. The muscles she had seen at dawn were no affectation - he was strong. Had to be, to wield his greatsword so skillfully. But for all his strength, he was almost as fast as a rogue. And he fought with a tenacity bordering on desperation. It looked familiar, like he was fighting for something other than himself.

Watching everyone, Ryna began to get restless. As much as she didn't want to perform on command like a puppet, it had been weeks since she'd held any weapons. Well, apart from the boot knife she'd taken off the slaver, which was now tucked into a slit in the leather leggings she wore beneath her dress. They rode snug and low on her hips, and she had rolled up the bottoms to above her knees. No one had made mention of them or the knife, so she didn't. If someone found the knife on her she'd get a beating for sure, but better to be prepared for any eventuality.

Despite how the morning dragged, it felt like moments later Ryna was bowing low to Danarius, the guards and trainees lining the yard in a rough square. The Magister said something vaguely threatening in a sickly sweet tone, and Goreth pressed the two dagger hilts into her hands with clear instructions not to kill, maim, or cause other long-term damage to anyone. Leto and the rest of the trainees stood behind her, waiting for the order to draw weapons and attack.

Finally, she would get to expend all the adrenaline that had been pumping through her since she had first woken up in chains in the slavers' wagon on the way to port from Lothering. Even with the larger numbers against her, she had the advantage of her pent up emotions and the energy behind them. She would have to pull punches to keep from seriously hurting anyone, though punches she would give.

A mischievous smile found its way onto Ryna's lips, and through the escaped strands of her bound hair, she dared look Danarius in the eye. She would pay for that later, but right now, she felt at rights with the world. With an almost lazy twist, she threw down her blades and sunk them hilt up in the ground. She turned her back on the mage and smirked at her competition.

Ryna felt alive.

Leto felt unnerved.

He was the first to draw his weapon, but did not rush to attack her. He had never seen that kind of jubilant anticipation for a fight before. Maybe his Master had bit off more than he could chew with this new slave. It was not his place to question, however, and he watched her carefully as she sauntered closer to them all.

"Let's dance."

Before the others could react, Ryna took down the one closest to her with a few quick jabs, commandeering the man's sword and using his shield to knock down another trainee. She didn't keep the sword, though, only threw it hilt first into another's forehead. Leto barely had time to step out of the way when she jumped up and kicked a man hard enough to send him flying into the wall behind Leto. Ryna landed on a fourth trainee as he rushed her, slamming a knee in his gut.

Clearly, she was intent on enjoying this.

But Leto had not only seen her take down the slaver and Torpa, but he had watched, and learned. She depended on the element of surprise. Leto doubted she would be as good in a straight fight, or one on one. It had also been obvious to him last night that she only fought to disarm and dissuade. He would use that to his advantage.

Surprisingly, Torpa stayed back beside Leto, probably wary from his encounter with the woman the night before. Two warriors might be able to tame the rogue. if they were smart about it. Leto caught his eye, and Torpa nodded in silent agreement to Leto's raised brow. Good. They would work together on this.

His fellow trainees were looking on Ryna with reservation now, and the Sergeants had decided to join the fray. For her part, Ryna was letting them come to her, then deploying a series of attacks that took out several others. It was an efficient tactic, but she was still out in the open. For a rogue, it wasn't a good holding position.

Two brave trainees attempted to flank Ryna, and received a bloody nose and ringing ears, respectively. Just as she used a leg to sweep them off their feet, the Captain gave a signal. The Sergeants, along with Leto, Torpa and four others, rushed her from all directions.

Leto couldn't contain his gasp as she brought her feet together and leapt higher than he thought possible. With a twist and a turn she landed behind Sergeant Boreaus, sending a heel into the small of his back and his shield into two trainees. One made the unfortunate decision to fall back - he would be reprimanded later - while Sergeant Corr charged at her with a flanking trainee, greatsword poised to cut her from head to toe.

Ryna smiled and held her ground, elbowing the trainee hard in the face. As the greatsword drew closer to Ryna's head, Leto had the sudden urge to block Corr's sword. Thankfully, he didn't get a chance to act on such a ludicrous thought. Ryna slapped the blade to one side before taking a knee and catching it between her palms above her head. A heavy lull rang silent at this maneuver, until she twisted the sword to lay horizontal and smacked the fuller near the guard, causing it to flip over it's tip and land the grip in her hands.

Standing, she slashed diagonally up at Corr, who received cuts on his arms and a thick gash in his leather cuirass for his shocked hesitancy. Leto felt his eyes widen in appreciation as she swung the blade around, released it mid air, and kicked it hard enough to bury it in the wall just above the trainee that had backed away. She had not been lying when she said she could wield any weapon available.

It was now down to Torpa and Leto. Watching her take down his comrades and his superiors, Leto realized she did best when someone attacked her from the side or in groups. She hadn't even touched her own daggers since the beginning of the test; she hadn't needed them, what with her cunning resourcefulness.

If anything, Leto decided, he would have her take up those blades to defend herself.

She was fast, but he was too, and he knew how to wield a greatsword with quickness. He swiped at her torso, and continued through the move when she bent herself backwards to evade. In response to his strokes, she flipped and darted and dodged his blade, but he pressed her back with each one. Ryna all but danced with him, mere inches from Leto, despite the breadth of his sword and the large space of the yard.

At last, he heard a rip that signified he had caught the tip of his blade on at least her clothing. She darted away from the reach of his sword, and for a moment he felt the departure of her body keenly. He shook his head and brought the greatsword forward in readiness, wary of her.

Ryna had skidded to a stop between her forgotten daggers, crouched low to the ground with a leg extended to the side for balance. It was then Leto saw what had been torn; the skirt of her dress was slit from the side of her hip down, showing leather leggings rolled up to her knee to reveal a smooth expanse of skin. A few old scars marred it here and there, and for a moment Leto was distracted, remembering the incident of the night before.

Leto growled at this diversion, and forced his mind back into the fray. He did not care to notice the way the loose strands of her hair stuck to the beads of sweat on her face and neck, or the flush of her skin, or the way her eyes flashed in equal parts joy and anger. None of that, nothing she had to offer, was greater than the notice of the Master. Only the Master could free his family.

With a growl of her own, Ryna yanked her daggers from where she had left them, and began a flurry of attacks against Leto. A part of him could tell she was holding back, letting him get his own offensives in. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself doing the same as well. For several minutes he held his own against her, and that was far more than even the Sergeants could say. Leto allowed it to be enough; surely the Master would see his prowess, even if it matched Ryna's.

They danced, as Ryna had commanded at the beginning, until she suddenly cried out and stumbled. Leto managed to stop his swing a breath before it severed her head. His eyes widened in confusion, and then he felt the familiar buzz of the Master's lightning in the air around him.

Ryna fell to her knees, her blades dropping from her hands as she looked at Leto. Standing there, so close to her, Leto could see that while the magic pained her some, it was not enough to truly bring her down as she was. In her face, he read dejection, as though the fun were over and now it was time to suffer.

It was like that with all slaves, Leto knew, but to see it in her felt somehow wrong.

"Well, well, my little Leto. My new pet has proven to be quite the acrobat. She all but danced circles around you."

Danarius strutted around Leto, who still had his sword at Ryna's neck, even as she spasmed with the arcs of lightning from the Master. Leto dare not move from this position, for the Master had not ordered him to. Neither had he ordered Leto to stop his course, but it was always safer to keep the Master's property intact unless outright commanded.

"Yes Master."

"It's quite intriguing, isn't it? You're one of the most promising warriors I've yet seen, even for an elf. Ah, but elves are always bested by humans, no?"

"Yes Master." Leto swallowed. It was true. Elvhenan had been conquered by the Imperium, enslaved. But this human under his sword was also a slave, brought down by magic.

"Should I have you end her, before she bests you in every way? I wonder." Danarius stroked Leto's arm and down his sword, then across Ryna's neck and along her jaw. Leto didn't act on the implied order. He just waited, and hated the small quiver of his hand that cut a thin line on Ryna's neck when Danarius turned away again. "It would be nice to have a complementing set, though. Human and Elf, male and female, tanned and pale, light and dark…"

Danarius strolled away, an indolent wave of his hand sending his house slaves scurrying to gather what had been brought down for the Master's comfort. His guards took position behind him, glaring at the duo alone in the middle of the training yard. With one last look at Ryna and Leto, Danarius began to make his way back to the main house.

"Keep her," he said, as an afterthought.