"'Scuse me, Sister?"

Leliana looked up from her small mug of watery ale at the grizzled soldier standing at her table. He was bent slightly forward in a supplicating gesture, and she gave him her best beatific smile.

"May I help you?"

"You could." He produced a slip of paper, which had two very rough drawings scrawled across it. The only discernable details were of a man and an elf of ambiguous gender, both in armour. "Have you seen any people arriving in Lothering who look even vaguely like these two? They're Grey Wardens who may have deserted during the battle at Ostagar."

Leliana shook her head. "To be fair, I can hardly tell what they are." The soldier made an apologetic grimace.

"Sorry to take up your time." He gave her a halting bow and moved away, speaking to the people curled up on the floor beside her seat.

Dane's Refuge was packed to the rafters with refugees. Most simply slept where they dropped, hoping that the eyes all around them would prevent anybody from simply rummaging through their belongings. The tavern had long since run out of food, and judging by the weakness of her drink Leliana assumed that the landlord had been taking a few unorthodox measures to stretch his supply of ale as far as he could.

Leliana wished she could help. There were some people starving right there on the floor, but she had nothing to give them now except prayers. Most had accepted this, although she had ended up shaking off a few persistent people who asked her to put in pleas on their behalf to the Revered Mother. Even if Leliana had not ended her time in the cloister earlier that week, there was nothing the Mother could have done. The town was pushed far beyond its limits and the people who had flowed in ahead of the darkspawn horde were leaving as fast as they could – which wasn't nearly fast enough. There were always more coming in, each group with a more terrible story than the last. Leliana's heart ached for them.

She comforted herself with the thoughts of her mission, ignoring the quickening in her blood that had more to do with the excitement of something new than piety. She had a greater purpose, and she used it to shut her ears to the suffering around her. Loghain's soldiers had been respectful because of her chantry robes, but the way they grabbed other women and knocked the men about had caused her to half-rise from her seat a few times, only to force herself back down. There was no point in getting killed in a bar fight. It would be a waste, not to mention highly embarrassing.

Every time the door opened, Leliana twisted in her seat, hope rising in her, sinking swiftly as more refugees came in and were turned away. The day was crawling on and she continued to nurse her drink, not wishing to imbibe any more alcohol than was necessary to keep her seat.

The soldiers had started on a man who was telling one of them off for making a swipe for his daughter, when the door opened again. There was a clatter of armoured feet, voices, a booming bark, and the commander turned around. Leliana's heart sank as the man's face lit up.

It became evident that the elf was, in fact, a woman. She appeared to be leading the group, which consisted of a man in heavy chainmail, a woman holding a mage's staff and dressed in nothing but rags, and the largest dog Leliana had ever seen.

"Look what we have here, men." The commander was grinning, gesturing at the new arrivals. "I think we've just been blessed." The elf folded her arms, glowering at him.

"Would you be the soldiers who've been kicking people's heads in all day?"

Her companions were tensing. The dog crouched close to the floor, ready to leap upon the first man who dared to draw a sword against his mistress, and the mage was beating a soft tattoo against the floor with her staff, apparently eager for a fight.. The soldiers spoke amongst themselves, and Leliana pushed herself up from the table. Her heart was racing and she had to wipe her palms against her robes to stop them sweating.

"Gentlemen." They turned their heads to her. Loghain's men no longer looked inclined to be nice to her and the elf was wary, not sure if she was friend or foe. "There is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge."

"They're more than that." The commander did not even look at her. His gaze was fixed on the Wardens, a greedy expression crossing his face. "Now stay out of our way, Sister, or you'll get the same fate as them."

"It looks like they want a fight." There was relish in the elf's voice. Her arms came up and fluidly removed her weapons from their sheaths, and she placed a foot back, adopting a solid defensive position. Leliana drew her dagger, willing her arms to stop shaking. There was only a moment's pause and then the soldiers charged forwards. The elf slipped under their guard and lunged upwards, piercing two through the stomach in a swift motion that Leliana could barely follow.

Not wanting to be outdone, she joined the fray, slamming the pommel of her dagger into a soldier's cheekbone, ignoring the urge to wince as it shattered beneath the metal. She swept down and sliced at his hamstring, and the man crashed to the floor like a felled tree. A ball of lightning flew over her head, and slammed into the chest of another of Loghain's men, who flailed and twitched about before collapsing with smoke pouring from his armour. The dog had flattened a victim of its own, and the male Warden was sweeping his shield about, knocking people to the floor in an impressive display of strength.

It was over quickly. As the elf lunged forward, the commander dropped his weapons, holding up his hands and begging for mercy.

"Good." Leliana was breathing so hard that she could barely talk and her pulse beat fast, but Maker, how she had missed a good fight! She had fallen back into it so naturally…"We can stop now."

"They would have reported us to Loghain and had us arrested as traitors." The elf looked down at the cowering man with no small measure of disgust. "We cannot let them go." Her sword flashed down.

"Wait!" The man cried out, but Leliana was there fast, catching the Warden's wrist just before the blade cleaved the man's head open. The elf glared at her with a mixture of disbelief and outright fury.

"They surrendered! They were no match for you!" Blue eyes met green as they stared each other down. The elf dropped her gaze first, gritting her teeth, and pulled her hand away sharply. Leliana held her breath, wondering what the Warden would do.

"Be thankful she is here." The elf gestured towards the door with her sword. "Start running. Keep going. And if we meet again I will kill you instantly." The commander was gone so fast, muttering his thanks to Leliana as he passed, leaving his butchered men behind without a second glance. The elf wiped a hand over her forehead, grumbling, and Leliana stepped up to her.

"I'm sorry for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by and not help." The group put their weapons away and turned all eyes on her. Leliana couldn't recall ever being this nervous, but she held her ground.

Eventually, the elf smiled thinly.

"So I see. Where does a cloistered sister learn to fight like that?"

Leliana had not realised that any of them had paid much attention to her during the actual scuffle. She shuffled nervously, but kept her tone light.

"I was not born in the cloister, you know. Many of us had more…colourful lives before we joined." The elf's expression had now changed from annoyed to intrigued, and Leliana became bold.

"That man said that you are Grey Wardens. You are fighting the darkspawn, yes? That is why I am coming along."

There was a burst of disbelieving laughter from the mage, and the male Warden was looking at her as though she were mad. The elf, on the other hand, tipped her head to one side, examining her intensely.

"Interesting. What makes you think that we would allow that?" There was no aggressiveness in her voice, just plain curiosity. Leliana summoned all her courage.

"The Maker told me to go with you."

She had been expecting bafflement, derision, or outright hostility. Maker knew that few elves looked kindly on the chantry itself, and she was beginning to wish that she had swapped out her robes for something plainer before heading to the tavern that morning. Certainly the other Warden did not think much of her statement.

"More crazy? I thought we were full up." He did not even bother trying to pitch his voice low, and the elf laughed openly. However, she still did not take her eyes off Leliana.

"Could you…elaborate?" The female Warden seemed interested, if in a cautious fashion, as though testing unknown ground in case it collapsed.

"I…I know it sounds insane." The mage made a scoffing noise and the man smirked. "But you have to believe me! I had a dream… a vision!"

"Do visionaries not usually end up dead in the old tales?" The mage commented. "T'would be better for your own sake to stay as far away from us as possible."

"The Maker told me to follow you." Leliana pressed on, determined. "And I will. Whether you want me or not."

"Hm." The elf was weighing her up, and a flash of indecisiveness appeared in her eyes. She looked back to her male companion, who shrugged helplessly. She's new to this. "You are very handy with a blade…but how are you with a bow?"

"Better." Now was not the time for modesty. She had to sell herself. "I prefer it, in fact. I can hit moving targets from a hundred yards." The male Warden looked impressed, but the elf was still appraising.

"You had better not be exaggerating. We may come to rely on that skill in the future." She paused. "Tell me your name."

"Leliana."

"I am Jaiden Tabris." The elf caught Leliana's hand and gave it a single shake. "Welcome to our band of wandering misfits, Maker help you."

"Did the blow to your head knock the manners from you?" The mage wondered aloud. "Perhaps t'would be nice to consult your current companions before taking on another?" No reply was forthcoming as Jaiden went over to the bar, passing over a few coins for drinks and damages, leaving Leliana standing awkwardly with the others. The mage sighed. "I am Morrigan. The bucket of drool on four legs is Boy, and the tin-plated dimwit is Alistair."

"Hey!"

Leliana looked down on the dog with amusement, as he snuffled around her feet. "Boy?" Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"Our leader has many talents, but imagination would not appear to be one of them." Leliana leaned down, tickling Boy behind the ears. He made an appreciative huffing noise.

"If he starts sounding like he's about to cough up a hairball, I'd get out of the way." Alistair was smiling at her, his crack about her mental stability apparently having already been forgotten. "He ate all Morrigan's herbs earlier and they are finding new, impressive, and ultimately disgusting ways to exit his system." Leliana took a sharp step backwards.

"Lovely."

"Serves him right, the glutton." Morrigan glared down at the hound, who uttered a placating whine. Jaiden returned, stuffing a few papers into her bag. Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"What're those?"

"Contracts." She pointed to where a man was lounging in the corner, picking his nails with a dagger, one elbow resting on an intricately carved box on the table beside him. "He's a Blackstone Irregular – a mercenary company. They'll pay us good money for a little bit of recruitment and admonishment."

"Mercenaries?" Alistair frowned. "Are you sure they aren't secretly working for Loghain? Whoever has the highest pay gets the men, and we aren't exactly rolling in it right now."

Jaiden's face dropped. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet.

"That didn't occur to me." She glanced over her shoulder at the man, who waved languorously at her. "I knew a few Irregulars back in Denerim. I supposed…"

"It would serve you well to abandon all your previous suppositions," Morrigan said sharply. "Nothing is certain for you, not anymore. 'Tis fortunate that you are not some innocent-minded idiot who goes around bleating about the natural good of humanity;" – here she shot a glance at Leliana – "but whatever you did take to be trustworthy before is gone. Caution aids survival."

Rage flared in Leliana's chest at the witch's barbed comment. And yet, she could not fault the basic message. Vigilance did ensure longer life. The only time she had truly thrown caution to the winds, everything she had known had been shattered. She settled for giving Morrigan a furious glare. The witch smirked.

"Nonetheless." Jaiden's voice cut the tension, and Leliana exhaled slowly, bringing her anger back under control. "We desperately need coin. At the very least to get you kitted out." She pointed at the ex-sister, who was now even more aware of just how stupid attacking fully armoured men while in her robes had been.

Wonderful. Five minutes in and I'm a burden. There was no resentment in Jaiden's tone, however. The misery that had overtaken her when Alistair doubted her decision was gone, replaced by a firm authority that the male Warden did not appear eager to contest.

"We still have to pick up our pay from the Chanter's Board," he reminded his companion.

"That'll be enough for now. We can fill these contracts as we travel anyway." Jaiden was heading for the door. "There's no way we're going to get rooms here tonight. Looks like we're camping." She cast a doubtful look at Leliana. "I'm not sure if we have enough money to get you a tent as well."

"Just give her yours," Morrigan said, evidently itching to leave the inn. Now that the fighting had settled the various men around were openly staring at her and the witch was plainly not that comfortable with so much attention. "It is not as though you have used it since we set out."

"Fair enough." Jaiden pushed the door open. "And Sten says he can fend for himself as well. More money for better armour, I suppose." She strode out, Alistair trailing a few steps behind.

Morrigan took one step out, but turned, giving Leliana a searching look. Leliana met her gaze and the two women stared each other out for a moment, before the witch turned on her heel and took her exit.

Leliana followed, excited and fearful. It had been a very long time since she had done anything so reckless and all the propriety in the world could not smother her anticipation.

O

Morrigan sat by the fire, drawing her furs closer around her. It was a pleasant change to be camped on ground that was not swampy. And today had been somewhat less tedious than those preceding it.

It had taken around two days for the group to travel to Lothering, and in that time the templar had nearly driven her insane with asinine questions about her life, apparently both repulsed and intrigued by her and Flemeth. When she had sniped at him, he had eventually fallen silent, but the questions were replaced with glances loaded with alternating fear and disgust. Jaiden had strode on ahead, doing her best to avoid leading them right into the horde, but still growing accustomed to her new senses. She had displayed a light wit that had initially worried Morrigan, thinking that their leader was frivolous, but her growing efficiency at killing the darkspawn soon dealt with that.

Jaiden was raw, that was certain. She had the bad habit of sneaking up on the strongest enemy and then killing them outright – a move that caused useful confusion, but inevitably left her in the middle of a group of very angry darkspawn. Alistair had been attempting to teach her to use her bow and attack from a distance more often, but apparently it wasn't taking. Jaiden liked her dual blades and wielded them surprisingly well, when she wasn't employing a spectacularly stupid form of tactics.

She was very nervous about making decisions, however. Morrigan had wanted to rip her own ears off in frustration as the Wardens talked back and forth for hours about their options, none of them wanting to commit to a course of action, until finally Jaiden had taken control. Since then she had been the undisputed leader, and although she always glanced over her shoulder to see what her companions thought, Alistair inevitably gave that same frustrating shrug, and Morrigan took to fantasising about changing him into something without limbs.

Perhaps a log.

Temporarily, of course.

Today, finally, there had been change, and while the day had been filled with a seemingly endless array of tasks that Jaiden could only justify by stating that they needed the money, there were the interesting parts. Morrigan almost wished their new female companion could have seen them scare the living daylights out of the Revered Mother before stealing her key for Sten's cage. Alistair had blustered, of course, and on this one occasion when he actually appeared to have an opinion, Jaiden had ignored him entirely.

The decision to recruit Sten had surprised Morrigan. Jaiden had listened to the story about the brutal murders with obvious horror, but after quietly speaking to the qunari away from them she had decided he would be of use. Whatever the silent qunari had said had not convinced the elf of his good intentions – her frequent glances over at where Sten stood immobile at the edge of camp said as much – but simply assured her that he would be a valuable asset.

As to Leliana…

Oh, she had not been lying about her skill with a bow. The moment camp had been set, Jaiden had started putting the woman through a series of strenuous exercises and demonstrations that left Leliana gasping for breath. She had been taught well, although she was just rusty enough for the elf to have given her a sharp smack on the forehead with the flat of a blade during a sparring exercise. Jaiden was doing the best she could, and Morrigan could not deny that the new girl was useful.

But she was hiding something.

Morrigan had assumed the woman's reaction to seeing Sten waiting for them on the outskirts of Lothering would be horror or anger, followed by berating Jaiden for letting the qunari free. She had been shocked, certainly, but stated that nobody deserved the unofficial death sentence that had been put upon his head.

Her allusions to a 'more colourful life' had apparently been forgotten, or at least ignored for now, by both of the Wardens. Whatever that had involved, she had been trained well in weaponry, and some deception and sleight of hand. When they had been short only a few silvers for an extra tent, Leliana had taken off, and Morrigan had followed. The ex-sister had sidled up to another of the merchants, and while he was preoccupied with trying to stare down her robes Leliana had made off with a handful of coins. It was with no small amusement that Morrigan had noticed Jaiden, a few yards off but obscured from the other woman's sight, openly cutting somebody's purse, right in the middle of the crowd, without anybody else spotting her.

What I wouldn't give for the fool to see that.

So, their current band consisted of herself, a foolish, moralistic templar, a woman who harped on about the chantry while proving every thought Morrigan had ever entertained about the hypocrisy of that particular organisation, a murderous giant, a reeking dog, and an elf with a penchant for thieving and stabbing people in the neck. Oh, how the archdemon would tremble.

O

Jaiden had already tucked in for the night. Despite Alistair's insistence on getting a spare tent, the elf seemed to prefer sleeping out of doors, setting her bedroll as close to the fire as possible without actually catching alight. Out of her armour, fast asleep, she looked impossibly young. Leliana and Alistair had drawn the short straws for first watch, and as they walked around the perimeter the male Warden filled Leliana in.

"If you see her thrashing about, don't be afraid to wake her up," he instructed. "Grey Wardens suffer from rather severe nightmares, and I gather she's got a few demons of her own to deal with. It's better to wake her up and hope she falls back asleep than having her eventually collapse on the road from lack of proper rest." Leliana nodded.

"Demons of her own?" Alistair glanced at Jaiden, checking she was properly asleep. The elf did not stir.

"I don't know the details," he admitted. "Duncan had to conscript her from the Denerim alienage, which presumably means that she was in trouble at the time. She's made…references…to what happened, but when one of the other recruits asked her about it she refused to say anything. I think it has something to do with how she got that scar. All I really know is that her mother is the one who taught her sword work, but she died when Jaiden was really young."

Leliana threw a glance at the sleeping Warden. Was her mother the only one who had taught her, or had there been other instructors who carried on after the woman expired?

"She mentioned that she knew a few mercenaries back in Denerim," she murmured. "Could she have been one of them, do you think?"

"I'd like to think not." Alistair fidgeted. "Sellswords don't really sit comfortably with me. It seems a bit – lacking in ethics, spilling blood for pay." Leliana stared at him for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "What?"

"You are such a chantry boy." Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"This coming from the mad nun who joined us only today?" Leliana swatted at his head. "Ow!"

"Sorry." Leliana's tone was not the least apologetic. "But she probably had to do what she needed to survive. Perhaps that sometimes meant doing things that were not strictly…well, approved of by the Maker."

She was testing ground here. If Alistair was disgusted by the idea then she would have to be very careful in what she revealed of her past. Despite Morrigan's assertions, Alistair seemed reasonably sharp, and if she slipped just once it could stop him – and therefore Jaiden – from trusting her.

Alistair pulled a face.

"Probably. But I don't think she ever – y'know – silenced anybody. She spent half the battle at Ostagar screaming in fear whenever she ended up in a larger fight, although she kept her head reasonably well. And she doesn't like killing people; I can see it in her eyes."

"She seemed very willing to put down that commander in the tavern." There had been no hesitancy when the sword had come down, and it had been fortune for the man that Leliana's reflexes were sharper than her mind.

"It was a practical viewpoint," Alistair argued. "He's probably sent a report on our position now." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Why were you so eager to defend him? He was going to kill you as well for helping us."

"I know." Leliana's lips curled into a smile as she realised the heavy irony of what she was about to say. "I dislike taking life unnecessarily. Not all the refugees who had an eye on claiming your bounty attacked us outside Lothering. Some had already sneaked off to give word elsewhere. So there was no real point to killing him."

Alistair looked as though he was about to say something, but was cut off as a fearful moan fell from Jaiden's lips. They both turned to look at her as she rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow and clasping her hands over her ears.

"I'd better wake her before she suffocates."

Leliana nodded. Alistair knelt by his companion and very gently shook her awake. She sat up, digging a palm into her forehead as though trying to press something out. In the moments before she realised where she was, she looked so desperately vulnerable and scared that Leliana wanted to do nothing more than embrace the elf and murmur quietly to her until she was relaxed enough to sleep again. Alistair looked as though he was going to attempt the same thing, but simply pressed a hand against Jaiden's back until her breathing slowed.

Out of the leather strip Jaiden used to keep it back, her hair was surprisingly shaggy for an elf's, thick and falling to her shoulders in a ragged line that spoke of rough shears. Right now it veiled her face as she leant forward, gasping, Alistair muttering to her in comfort. Leliana sat a respectful distance away, her bow on her knees, watching until Jaiden regained herself. She sat up and looked at Alistair with a faintly surprised expression.

"This is familiar." Her voice was still thick with sleep and her eyes half-lidded, not yet properly awake.

"How so?"

"Duncan did this for me when I left Denerim."

At the mention of the Warden's name Alistair's hand fell away and he sat back on his knees, looking at Jaiden with a mixture of grief and expectation. She blinked at him slowly.

"You are like Duncan, you know," she said. "You're kind." A hand reached up and touched his cheek, a platonic gesture of comfort.

"Duncan could lead," Alistair muttered. "He was a better man than me." Despite his efforts, tears were beginning to form in his eyes, and Jaiden hauled herself onto her knees and pulled him into a hug. Alistair responded by clasping his arms around her waist and burying his head into her shoulder.

It was a strange sight. Alistair was still in his heavy chainmail whereas Jaiden was in her trews and tunic, making her look tiny in his embrace. Leliana knew that they had known each other for less than a week, but what they had undergone in that week had bonded them firmly, breaking through a number of barriers that probably would have taken months under normal circumstances.

"Do you want to talk about him?" Jaiden's free hand stroked the back of Alistair's head until he lifted it, wiping away his tears.

"You don't have to do that." Jaiden gave him a handkerchief and he accepted it gratefully, wiping his face. He was beginning to look really embarrassed now. "You didn't know him as long as I did." Jaiden looked at him, the sleepiness lifting from her face, replaced with sorrow.

"That doesn't mean I don't mourn his loss. He saved my life, and I wish he was around to see just how thankful I am for that."

Alistair looked downcast. "I shouldn't have gone to pieces like that. Duncan warned me right from the start that it was a possibility – I just didn't believe him. He seemed invulnerable." He took a breath. "I'm sorry."

Leliana was beginning to feel uncomfortable about witnessing this. The Wardens were discussing something personal to both of them and she could not really offer comfort without spouting clichés. Neither seemed to pay her any mind, however, and the part of her she had spent two years trying to suppress was telling her to stay and take note of anything that could prove useful later on. She eventually settled on not moving, hoping that they didn't notice her. She didn't feel like interrupting their moment.

"No harm done, Alistair." Jaiden patted his shoulder, evidentially now awake enough to feel awkward at the knight's proximity. "I've been worried about you. You've been so quiet over the last few days." Alistair smiled weakly at her.

"I like how you only notice there's something wrong because I'm not talking for once." Jaiden stuck her tongue out at him. "But I was just thinking…when this is all over, I want to have a funeral for him. For all the Grey Wardens. I don't think he had any family who would do it."

"He had you." The words were said softly, very cautiously, as though uncertain whether they would cause Alistair to shatter. Alistair looked unsure.

"I suppose…I just feel I should have been in the battle with him. I could have defended him…if I hadn't been in that tower." He rubbed the back of his head. "I guess that sounds stupid."

"He saved your life by sending you." Jaiden was still gentle, although Leliana could see from how her body was beginning to tense that she was looking at him like a wary cat. "I understand how you feel, though."

"Have you ever… lost somebody close to you?"

The question seemed to throw Jaiden off and she clasped her arms around her knees, staring into the fire. Her voice was quiet. "I saw plenty of death in the alienage."

"I imagine you really have, haven't you?" It was Alistair's turn to give her a sympathetic touch on the shoulder.

"Mm. I'd prefer not to talk about it."

"Fair enough. Anyway, I think Duncan came from Highever," Alistair said distantly. "I think I'll go there when everything is done with; put up something in his memory." The tension seeped from Jaiden's frame and she gave him a smile.

"I think I'll go with you." The smile was interrupted by a wide yawn and she lay back on her bedroll. "Sorry Alistair," she mumbled, "But I need to rest now."

"Okay. Sleep well."

"I'll try." It only took a few moments before Jaiden's breathing evened out and her body relaxed completely. Alistair stood again and came back to Leliana, settling on the log beside her.

"Sorry about that." He was staring at the ground, elbows on his knees, still slightly shaken with emotion.

"It is no worry," she assured him. "You need some more time to grieve, I imagine, and I won't think any less of you for crying. I don't know who this Duncan was to you, but you obviously cared for him a great deal."

"He was the Warden-Commander of Ferelden," Alistair said. "He fell at Ostagar."

"I heard of what happened there. You have my sympathies, if that means anything to you."

"Thank you." He picked himself back up again, filled with an agitated energy that made sitting still impossible. "You can get to bed if you want. I'm going around the perimeter again."

Leliana recognised this as a signal that Alistair wanted to be alone. "I'll wait here. See you in a minute." He nodded, his jaw tense, and Leliana watched him disappear into the trees surrounding the camp.

O

Oof, this one ran away with me a little bit. I meant to finish with Morrigan's segment but my brain refused to switch off : )