Okay, okay, here is the usual disclaimer: I own nothing save for Adela (well and maybe her stylized halla figurine). Bioware has my eternal gratitude for creating this world and letting me play in their sandbox.

As stated before, I'm not going canon with the game or the books - just a slight twist to make things fit to my story. Be warned - This chapter contains sexual violence and general violence.

And, thanks for the reviews! zevgirl, lisakodysam, mutive, patbaking. They help keep me going knowing that some of you find it interesting.

DragonAge: Origins: The Halla Reborn

Chapter 4

Urgent hands shook his shoulder, an unfamiliar - no, vaguely familiar - voice calling his name. Then pain…Ah! His head! A sharp grimace crossed his handsome features as he rose, his hands encompassing his head. What? The hands on his shoulders retreated, and he more felt than saw the figure of another man crouch beside him.

"Nelaros!" that vaguely familiar voice - the man beside him - called. "Come on, get up!" he continued to encourage, hands once again reaching out to shake the man lucid.

Groaning, Nelaros brushed Soris' hands away, lifting his aching head from his hands. There was a crowd just beyond the platform - the marriage stage - where he now sat. Wait! He stood anxiously, glancing about. "Where is Adela?" he demanded, rounding on Soris, who now stood beside him, his own face twisted with anxiety and fear. Just a look at the other man, who only shook his head at him, told him everything the groom needed to know. That damnable human took her!

Without another word, with hardly a glance to his fellow groom, Nelaros all but stalked toward the angry crowd, more a mob than crowd. Soris rushed to his side, following tentatively as Nelaros pushed his way through to stand before Velendrian.

The elder was holding up his hands in a placating gesture, the human man (Nelaros had heard that a Grey Warden was in the Alienage and he could only presume this was he) standing calmly by his side. The human's dark eyes lit up with interest as Nelaros came to stand before the elder.

"Calmly, people," Velendrian was saying, his voice calm, but his eyes betraying concern.

"Calm!" a woman shouted from the crowds. "They took my sister!"

Other shouts mingled with hers, and the elder waited, letting them shout out their anger a bit before raising his voice slightly, "Shouting will not help anything. We must…"

"We must do nothing!" a woman's bitter voice hissed through the din, capturing everyone's attention. It was Elva, her face twisted with scorn. "Let them have the girls! If we were to do anything we would all pay the price." She turned to cast a glare at Nelaros before adding, "What's the cost of a few women's virtue when compared to the good of the community?"

The elven man could barely believe his ears. Was this woman actually suggesting they allow those fiends to use their women in such a fashion? If they were in Highever, something like this would never have been allowed to happen! Before a coherent retort came to mind, Cyrion stepped forward, placing a hand upon the younger man's shoulder, and spoke, "Easy enough for you to say, Elva," the craftsman looked directly into the woman's eyes, "but were it you in their place, I am certain you would want someone to care enough for your wellbeing to come for you." Yes, Nelaros would be most proud to be part of the Tabris family. He looked over at Elva, who only sneered back at the older man.

"Well, perhaps if you were to call to the royal palace, your precious daughter could be found," she sneered, stepping forward, "Although we are all fairly certain that she has little virtue left…" she never finished that sentence, as Nelaros took a threatening step toward her, causing the woman to take an anxious step back. No one stood to defend the hateful woman, and Nelaros all but loomed over her.

"Watch your words, harpy!" he hissed, noting with satisfaction the color all but bleed from her face as she stepped further away and disappeared into the crowd.

Velendrian, who had been speaking quietly with Duncan, turned back, "I have heard of Vaughan's….appetites, and the interest he took specifically in Adela is more than enough for cause for concern. We cannot leave them there," There was determination, but almost resignation, in his voice. The elder truly did not believe anyone in the Alienage would volunteer to rescue the women.

He was pleasantly surprised when Nelaros stepped back, looking at the elder. "Show me the way to the Arl's estate, and I will get my bride and the other women back home." Safely. There was such steady determination in his voice, such courage and concern in his eyes - Duncan continued his scrutiny of the young man. If he succeeds, I may well leave the Alienage with two recruits.

Nelaros, noting Duncan's interest, spoke to the Grey Warden. "I understand, Ser, that you are a Grey Warden?" Duncan nodded. "Perhaps you could assist us?" He frowned as Duncan shook his head.

"I fear that my presence in such an undertaking would disavow our neutrality," he said, obvious regret in his voice. He said no more on that subject, but knew that not only could he not, as a Grey Warden, interfere, but, as a Grey Warden, he needed to know the potential of those he sought to recruit. If he assisted, how could he properly evaluate this young man and his bride as recruits into the order? A cold reality, yes, but a necessary one.

A scowl crossed the elven man's features, and Duncan held up his hand, "I can, however, offer you a sword," this he handed to Nelaros, "and my crossbow," this to Soris, who numbly accepted it. When had I agreed to help? Soris wondered. Nelaros glanced at the sword, adjusting his grip on the weapon. His martial training would come in handy.

Now, to get inside the palace…

A soft, male voice called out, "Sers. I may have a way into the palace…"

DA:O

Adela awoke on a cold, stone floor, her hands tied tightly behind her. Her face stung from the slap the nobleman gave her, and her head ached. With a groan, she pushed herself up awkwardly, her bound hands hindering movement.

The room she found herself in was bare, save for a rug in the center of the floor and a bench pushed against one wall. There were no windows and only one door, locked, she would presume. And, she was alone. Where were the others? She wondered, concern tightening in her chest.

The events of the day rushed at her like a heavy wave, her last memory that of Nelaros being beaten to the ground. Was he all right? She worried, shaking her head. She had to get out of here, had to find the others…but…how? With her hands bound behind her, she couldn't even attempt picking the lock.

The sounds of the tumblers clicking in the lock drew her attention back to the door. Her breath came in tighter gasps as she watched Vaughan Kendalls, dressed in laced up breeches and an open necked linen shirt, a dagger sheathed at his hip, enter the room.

The nobleman carefully closed the door, locking it behind him. The key he placed in the pocket of his shirt. The smile that crossed his face - part predatory, part appreciation - almost tightened Adela's throat closed with fear. The look in his eyes said all there was to - She was his; he was not going to let her leave.

"Ah, my lovely one has awakened from her slumber," he murmured as he knelt before her, one hand reaching out to cup the injured side of her face. An angry scowl creased his face, "The fool has been punished for marring your lovely skin, my dear," he purred out this last, moving himself closer to the bound elf. Fear gripped Adela fully, but she swallowed it down, knowing that it would only hinder her escape, hinder her survival, and do nothing to aid her still missing friends.

"My lord," she whispered, her face tilted slightly away from his so that he could not see the paling of her face, "please, let us go." She then raised her intense blue eyes to his emerald pair, allowing a plea to show honestly there, hoping he would listen to reason. She stopped, clearly seeing that there would be no reasoning with this man. He had decided that she was his, and, as a noble, he was used to getting what he wanted. His next words only confirmed this.

"Ah, but my dearest one," both hands now cupped Adela's face and he brought his lips to brush against hers. She closed her eyes, uncertain what to do. "All this planning for us to be together would be for naught if I were to simply let you go." His voice had an almost playful scolding tone to it, and it caused her to shiver even more.

Still, she had to try; she had to try to get him to at least release the others. She was certain her own fate was sealed, but the others…"Then, then let the others go," she boldly met his eyes, feigning a confidence she did not feel. "If this was all for us to be together, surely the others have no place in your plans?"

Vaughan smirked, brushing his lips against hers again before answering, "What, then, amusement shall my guests enjoy if I were to do that?" He pulled away, the hold on her face tightening almost painfully. "I most certainly will not share you with them, or anyone else!" One hand moved to the back of her head, roughly grasping her, yanking her forward and against him. "Not even the king!" he growled this last in her ear as he stood, pulling her with him.

The king? "What?" the word was out of her mouth before she knew it. What did Cailan have to do with anything?

Vaughan merely chuckled at his captive's confusion. "Come now, my love," his hands roamed along her back, capturing her bound hands and pulling them tightly against her back, pulling her more fully into the curve of his body. "Word has it that your visits to the royal palace are far more than merely delivering trinkets." His head dipped, his lips nuzzling against her neck. Her body stiffened at the contact, and she struggled against his hold. With a growl, he pushed her against the wall, holding her tight as his lips moved along her neck and throat, down to the small expanse of exposed shoulder and across her collarbone. "I promise you, you will find me a far more enjoyable lover…" he murmured against her skin.

Instinct took over. She had no idea what Vaughan was talking about with regards to the king, but she knew she would not get clarification from him. She struggled almost frantically, managing to free her legs from where Vaughan had pressed his hips against her, his leg between hers. He staggered slightly, allowing more space between them. A sharp cry escaped his lips as her knee connected with his groin, and he let her go. Stumbling away, cursing the skirt of her dress, Adela managed to pull her arms down and her legs through the loop of her arms. Though still bound, her hands now were in front of her.

Vaughan, however, had quickly recovered, and with a guttural growl, grabbed the young woman, flinging her hard against the wall. Almost snarling, he pressed his body against hers, imprisoning her hands between their bodies. "Now, now, my love," he growled, his hips pressing against her firmly, his body entrapping her effectively, "none of that." His mouth came down, hard, upon her lips, his tongue forcing entrance into her mouth. Knowing she had nothing to lose, she bit down on the offending organ. Hissing, pulling away, the nobleman brought up a hand and slapped her - hard - her head twisting away, the shock from the pain coursing down her face and neck, flowing out along her shoulders. "I had wanted to do this in a more…pleasant surrounding, in a room with a large bed," he explained as he pulled the skirts of her dress over her hips, maintaining the hold against her body. She could not move. "But, if you wish for our first coupling to be…aggressive, I shall accommodate your desires, my love." With that, he quickly unlaced his breeches, pushing her small clothes aside. Adela tried to push him away, but her hands were trapped in such a way between their bodies she could not get good leverage. Not against someone so much stronger than herself. A sob escaped her lips as she felt Vaughan's naked erection against her. With another growl - one full of lust and impatience - Vaughan lifted the small woman up, and with one push, entered her completely. An anguished cry escaped from her body as she felt her maidenhead break, and blood rushed down her thighs. Vaughan took note, and chuckled as he continued to thrust into his unwilling partner. "Well, well, well," he breathed into her ear, kissing the delicate organ, and then running his tongue along her lobe, "it would seem as though the rumors that you were the king's whore are untrue." He continued to thrust, his breathing becoming ragged, his kisses along her neck and ear more urgent. "I am your first, and only, it would seem." A ragged cry and his body jerked. He slowed his thrusts, bending his head into her neck, taking deep breaths, relaxing before continuing. He had watched her…wanted her for so long. And now that he had her, he did not want their first coupling to end too soon.

Adela stifled her sobs, biting her bottom lip as Vaughan continued to assault her. Think past the pain, she told herself. Think. With Vaughan's movements, her hands now had more freedom, and she flexed the stiff fingers, willing circulation and warmth to their tips. With a deep breath, she moved her hands downward, carefully taking hold of Vaughan's manhood. A chuckle rumbled against her ear, "Ah, so, my little one," he kissed her ear almost tenderly, "you do wish to enjoy our time together." If you only knew, you bastard, she thought vehemently. Moving her hands, she positioned her thumbs, cringing inwardly at the touch as he continued to move in and out of her. The fingernails on each thumb were longer and sharper than the others as she used these as tools in her artwork. Now, they would be put to another use. Bracing herself, she jabbed each thumbnail into the hard - and extremely sensitive - organ that moved in her - breaking the skin, sinking deeply into the flesh, blood oozing from each wound. Vaughan shouted in pain, dropping her to clutch at himself. Landing on her feet, she brought her bound hands up, swinging back and then, with all the strength she could muster, smashed her clenched, bound fists into Vaughan's face, splaying his regal nose across his face. Blood oozed from the broken appendage as he roared with pain and anger, grasping at the newest injury. Desperately, Adela swung her fists again, connecting with Vaughan's temple, felling him to the stone floor. Without thought, still moving on pure instinct, she lunged down, pulling the noble's dagger from its sheath, plunging it down into the man's chest. Yanking it free, she ignored the rush of blood that flowed from the wound, simply grasping the blade to her chest. Stumbling back, gasping for air, ignoring the blood on her hands and thighs, trying to ignore the pain from between her legs, the young elven woman, knelt down, searching Vaughan's pocket for the key to the door. Rising on shaky legs, she went to the door. Placing an ear against it, she listened, certain that the noise of their struggle would have been heard. Hearing nothing, she placed the key in the lock and exited the room.

Rushing through the estate with her hands bound would not have been her first choice, but instinct told her to get out of the room where Vaughan lay and to seek out the others. She pressed herself against the stone of the walls, blending into the shadows there as she held the bloody dagger close to her chest. Yes, she did hear something - soft footsteps, as though someone was trying to keep silent. Moving along the wall, she peeked around the corner. Relief flowed through her body as she spotted Soris, cautiously making his way down the hallway, a crossbow held tightly in his hands. She watched him turn and gesture back up the hall. Her initial relief was replaced with shear joy at seeing Nelaros, a bloody sword in hand, rush forward to join her cousin. With a sharp cry, the young woman left the shadows and ran toward the men.

Nelaros heard and saw her first, apprehension giving way to concerned relief at seeing his bride rushing to him. That relief changed quickly to anger as he noted her condition - her bloody and bound hands, the blood on her wedding dress - her torn wedding dress - the blood…Repressing the growl of anger that threatened to escape his lips, he pulled the sobbing woman into his arms, kissing the top of her head and whispering assurances to her as he rocked her gently.

"Where is he?" he asked, Soris continuing to peer up and down the hallway, alert for any intruder.

Taking a deep breath, brushing aside her tears, Adela motioned down the hall, saying, "He's either dead or near to. It doesn't matter - I don't care. We need to find the others!" Her voice, ragged from fear, was still strong with determination. Whatever happened can be dealt with later, she thought, all that's important is getting to the others.

Pushing her away a little, Nelaros tilted Adela's head upwards, gazing into her eyes. He saw strong determination there, an honest concern for her friends. Leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips, Nelaros nodded his head. Gentle hands reached down and carefully untied her hands, rubbing them softly before releasing them. Free, Adela rubbed the circulation back into her hands, clutching the dagger tightly. Soris managed a weak smile to his cousin, and the trio sped off in search of Shianni, Velora and the other women. They just hoped they were not too late…

DA:O

Their progress through the Arl's estate was bloody and painful. They had managed to locate Shianni (brutalized by one of Vaughan's cronies) and the others (poor Nola had been killed when she tried to fight against one of the guards to whom she had been given as a reward). The trio of armed elves killed Vaughan's friends and many of the guards. The five unarmed women fearfully followed Adela and Nelaros, with Soris behind, his crossbow ready for discharge. As they approached the back entrance, several guardsmen, including the captain of the guard, moved to block their path.

"'Ey now, what have we here?" the captain snarled, his eyes narrowing at the elves. His eyes turned to Adela, a smirk crossing his lips, "Aren't you Lord Vaughan's bitch?"

With a cry of outrage, Nelaros lunged forward, his sword leading. The captain snarled back, rushing forward to meet the enraged elf. Adela pushed the women back, motioning to Soris to start firing, and she, too, jumped into the fray. Spinning and ducking, dipping down, and lunging out, the elven woman called upon her years of training at the side of her mother, as well as her own continued practice after her mother's death. Adaia had taught her well, and many of the guards fell, their throats sliced or backs pierced by the sharp blade. Soris' bolts found the backs and chests of others and they, too, fell before the onslaught of enraged elves.

Nelaros fought hard and with skill against the heavily armed and armored human. He managed to parry and duck many of the captain's strikes with his great sword, the elf's long sword darting in to sting and then retreat back, seeking other openings. The human was tiring far quicker than the agile elf, who dodged, and ducked, thrust out and nipped at the man. With a final twist and turn, Nelaros spun about, bringing his sword up, nearly cleaving the man's head from his shoulders. As the captain's body fell heavily to the ground, the sound of a "click" and "twang" from a crossbow could be heard. Nelaros stiffened suddenly, a crossbow bolt driving deeply into his chest. With an anguished cry, Adela spun about, locating the enemy, and without a second thought threw her dagger at the man. The blade found its mark, driving deeply into his throat. With a gurgle, the man dropped his weapon and clutched at his throat, blood pouring from the wound as he slumped to the ground. It took many minutes for him to die.

Crying out his name, Adela fell to the ground beside her betrothed, tears running down her cheeks. No, no, no…she thought. Not when I could see a future here. A blood stained hand raised up to lightly brush the tears from her cheek.

"Adela, don't cry," Nelaros pleaded weakly. Her very blue eyes met his, and he reached into a pocket, pulled out the ring he was to give her at their wedding: a gold band, etched with leaves and grapes - an ancient elven blessing for a fruitful, happy union. Nelaros smiled at her, one hand on her cheek moving to encourage her to bend her head to his, raising up slightly to kiss her. "I am sorry, love," he coughed weakly, slipping the ring on her finger. "I had hoped to make myself worthy of you and your love."

Adela shook her head, bending down to kiss him again, whispering, "You already did, Nelaros, my husband. You already did." And, smiling at her words, the gem blue eyes of Nelaros closed, his body relaxed as she held him. A sob slipped past her lips, Adela brushed back his blonde hair, fingertips lightly brushing along his warm forehead absently. Her head still bent, she took in a deep breath. They had to leave. With a final kiss to his lips, Adela rose.

Without a word, she went over to the dead crossbowman and viciously yanked the dagger from his throat. Stepping back to her fallen fiancé, she bent and picked up the sword Duncan had lent him for the rescue. Whispering a faint goodbye, she looked up and motioned for the others to follow. Quietly, with no other obstacles, the sad group of elves left the estate and, keeping well to the shadows, avoiding all guards and other citizens, made their quiet way back to the Alienage.

DA:O

They entered the Alienage to find Velendrian, Duncan and Cyrion waiting anxiously nearby. Duncan, being the first to spy the ragged band's entrance, placed a calming hand on Cyrion's shoulder, gesturing. The trio watched the approach of the group. Adela told Velora and the other women to take Shianni back to the house, and she and Soris stepped toward the three older men.

"What happened?" Cyrion asked, his voice heavy with concern as he pulled his daughter into his arms. Soris could not find his voice and merely shook his head, hanging it in sorrow. Adela took a deep breath.

"Lord Vaughan and his…friends are…dead," she looked up into her father's eyes, tears threatening to spill. "Nola was killed when she fought against a guard. Nelaros was killed during our escape." Cyrion's head bowed in grief, pulling his daughter back into his arms, placing a cheek on the top of her head.

Velendrian turned to Soris. "Soris?" The young elven man looked up, but could only shake his head.

"We had no choice," Adela's voice was stronger than expected, her eyes clear, as she pulled herself from her father's embrace to stand straight before the elder. "They harmed us, and we fought in self defense." Her eyes practically blazed. "We did as we must to survive."

The elder was taken aback. Normally Adela was one to talk down a potentially violent situation. For her to say, with no regret in her voice, that the killing was necessary…he believed her. He glanced over at Duncan, and saw stark approval in those dark brown eyes. Velendrian frowned, looking back at the girl. Either way, he knew, they were going to lose her. A thought came to mind, and he spoke it. "What about going to the Queen?" he asked the girl. Adela shook her head as the elder continued. "Come now, Adela. You are her friend; she will protect you."

"Protect me?" Adela questioned. "No. I won't do it. We defended ourselves. I'll not run…"

"Where is the Velendrian, elder and administrator to this Alienage?" a strong voice called out from the gates, interrupting what Adela was about to say. Turning, the elves and Grey Warden noted the advancement of the Captain of the City Guard, flanked by half dozen of his men.

With a heavy sigh, Velendrian stepped forward, "I am here, Captain."

The captain frowned. "The Arl's palace has a river of blood from one end to the other. None know if the Arl's son will survive the vicious assault upon him." He glared at all the elves before him. Soris started to tremble with fear, and Adela had a sick feeling in her stomach, threatening to overcome her. "I want answers, Elder, and I want them…"

"I did it," Adela stepped forward, her voice strong despite the fear she felt. Soris' startled eyes sought hers, begging her to step back and be quiet.

The Captain scoffed. "You truly expect me to believe that one woman - one small, elven woman - did all that damage?"

Velendrian glanced briefly at the girl, pride straightening his back, "We are not all as helpless as many believe us to be, Captain."

The captain merely glared at the elder before turning his attention back to Adela. "While I do not envy your fate, girl, I admire your courage." He stepped toward her, looking her directly in the eye. "Your coming forward will save your people a lot of trouble." He turned to his men. "Take her to Fort Drakin, men." Adela raised her head, her stomach threatening to purge. Fort Drakon? She knew her life was at an end. Looking over at Soris, she realized, so be it. Her people would be safe, that was all that mattered.

As the guards moved to take Adela into custody, Duncan raised a hand to catch the Captain's attention. "Captain, a moment if I may?"

Irritated, the captain glanced over at the other man, "What is it, Grey Warden? As you can see, we have the matter well in hand…"

Duncan interrupted him, saying, "Be that as it may, I hereby conscript this young woman into the Grey Wardens. You may not take my recruit into custody."

"Son of a tied down…" the Captain growled. "Fine! I cannot challenge your right, Grey Warden, but I will have to insist that you get this elf out of the city before night fall."

Duncan bowed his head in consent as the captain turned back to his men. "Alright, change of plans, men! I want all available men to patrol the streets. Once word of this gets out, there will be trouble." And, without a glance back to the Grey Warden or the elves, the city guardsmen took their leave of the Alienage. The captain sputtering the entire time about Wardens and elves.

The elves watched the guards leave in stunned silence. Duncan turned to the girl and said, "Gather your things. We must leave immediately." Adela raised her eyes to Duncan's, and he was yet again stunned by her resemblance to her mother. "I…I thank you for helping me. But," she gestured to the Alienage as a whole, "what will happen here? I cannot simply leave everyone…"

But Duncan cut her off. "I needed recruits for the Grey Wardens, and I found you. That it happens to save your life is irrelevant." He stepped closer, looking down at the smaller elf. "You must understand that there is something happening out there that is larger than anything happening here."

A frown deepened upon Adela's face, "Be that as it may," she nearly spat, the tensions of the day wearing on her, "no one else cares about what happens here, so someone has to!"

Indeed, so like Adaia. Duncan shook his head, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Adela, if the Blight is allowed to go unchecked, it will affect those here as well." His intense dark eyes held her own. "We need people of skill, courage, determination. You did what had to be done in order to survive and rescue your friends." In a gentler tone he continued. "I am sorry for the death of your betrothed. He was a good and skilled man, passionate, fiery. He, too, would have been worthy of becoming a Warden."

Tears shimmered in her eyes, Adela nodded. "I understand. I…I will gather my belongings and meet you back here." And, without another word, she left the Grey Warden and elder, Soris taking his usual place by her side as they walked back to their home.

Just as they reached the front door, Soris stopped. "Adela?" Soris tried to get her attention. "I just want to say…heck!" He stopped, grabbing hold of his cousin (he did not notice her slight flinch) and pulled her into his arms. "Thank you, for back there. For taking the full responsibility. For…" he blushed, looking into Adela's astonished face. "For always being my hero." He grinned at Adela's snort, and continued. "You've always done the right thing. Always. You never questioned your course, and always seemed to know what to do. Well," he cleared his throat, releasing his cousin. "I'm going to take a page out of your book. I'm going to settle down with Velora. She…she may not be gorgeous, but she's good and kind and has a good head on her shoulders. She has plans for the Alienage." he broke off, suddenly embarrassed and ashamed. Here he was talking about marrying Velora when the body of Adela's betrothed lay cooling in the Arl's mansion. He nearly jumped when he felt Adela's hand pat his cheek. "It's okay, Soris," she encouraged. "Be happy." And, with that, she turned, opened the door, and entered her home.

Velora met her at the door, thanking her profusely for helping her. After promising to take care of Soris, she left her alone with Shianni.

The red haired elven woman was in bad shape. Apparently, Vaughan had beaten her prior to his visit to Adela. Her whole face was a mass of swelling bruises and bloody cuts. Adela knew that there were other wounds - unseen wounds - that her younger cousin would need to deal with. "I'm sorry, Shianni," she whispered when the two women were alone. Shianni looked up at her cousin, confusion evident on her face.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked, rubbing a hand up and down Adela's arm. She was certain that Vaughan had assaulted her elder cousin, but had not asked and would not. Adela shook her head, pulling Shianni into a tight embrace. Whispering still, she replied, "Vaughan had been watching me, for how long, who knows? He came here for me. And the rest of you…" a soft sob and Adela buried her face into Shianni's neck. But, the redhead would not hear of it. "No," she scolded firmly, shaking Adela. "No! I will not let you take the blame for that pig! He caused the pain, the suffering. You are just as much a victim of that…that shem as we all are." Shianni placed a hand to Adela's cheek. "Cousin! I saw you! You charged into the room, your eyes blazing with fire, justice guiding your blade! You saved us!" Shianni kissed her on the cheek. "And I will always be grateful to you for it. You are amazing. We are all proud of you. We always have been."

Sighing, Adela stood straighter, gazing into her cousin's brown eyes. "I have to go." Simple statement. Shianni frowned. "Why?" Simpler question. A harsh laugh, something no one had ever heard from Adela. "I've been conscripted into the Grey Wardens."

Shianni shook her head. "You? A Grey Warden?" She seemed to think about it for a moment, and then her poor, battered face split in a grin. "You know, as crazy as that may sound, it's really not so crazy an idea." With a laugh, she pulled Adela into a tight hug, "I love you, Cousin. They'll be writing books about you, you know?"

"You're crazy, cousin," Adela retorted, hugging Shianni back just as tightly.

Shianni helped Adela gather her things. As they did so, Cyrion stepped into the room, a cloth wrapped bundle in his arms. "Adela, here is something…something that belonged to your mother. I know she'd want you to have it." With these words, he placed the bundle in her hands. Frowning, Adela moved to her bed, placing the bundle down and unwrapped it. There lay several pieces of leather armor. Cyrion spoke again, "This is a quality Dalish armor. Your mother wore it during the Rebellion." Adela looked up, her eyes wide. "I've no doubt it will be too large for you, but find someone who works in leather and they can adjust it to your size." Then, with a cry, the man pulled his daughter into his arms, wrapping her tightly, knowing she was going off into more danger, away from home. But she couldn't even be safe here, he reminded himself. Sighing, he disengaged the hug. "Don't forget to stop by your mother's cache and retrieve her bow and blades," he offered to Adela. "I'm certain Duncan would not mind the brief stop." Adela nodded, rewrapping the armor and placing it in her backpack. With a final sigh, she turned to her father. "I love you, Papa," she said, gazing into his blue eyes. "And I love you too, dear heart."

A final hug and Adela left her home.

Then, by Duncan's side, the pair left the Alienage, and then the city of Denerim. After a brief stop to retrieve her mother's equipment, the pair headed Southward, toward Ostagar, and the waiting darkspawn hoard.