AN: Aaaaaaand here's chapter 4! You guys get to meet Nuala and Braden now! Yay! Please tell me what ya'll think! I don't own Dragon Age. Enjoy reading!

Chapter 4

Ostagar

Nuala Aeducan sat before the fire, steel grey eyes unseeing. Wrapped up in her own misery, she didn't notice the world around her. Her hands had stopped polishing her blade as her thoughts drifted to recent events.

Duncan had been kind to let her escape the Deep Roads with him and the other Grey Wardens after her exile. Well, she knew he had expressed an interest in recruiting her to the famous order of warriors, but she had been cast out, left with nothing but the clothes on her back and the weapons Lord Harrowmont had been able to get her. He took in a casteless nobody, not a princess and heir to the dwarven throne. Exiled and cast out, left to die in the Deep Roads.

And for what?! For something she did not do, wrongly accused and denied to defend herself. Her treacherous brother making deals and securing alliances in secret had elegantly put both his older siblings out of the bid for dwarven monarchy. He silenced Trian, the eldest of the three and pinned his death on her. With the alliances he made, he convinced the Assembly to exile her without trial. Exiled into the Deep Roads.

Bhelen, his name brought forth a rush of anger, Nuala's hands tightened on the grip of her blade and the whetstone she used to sharpen it. Bhelen was the kin killer. But he underestimated his sister. He believed she'd die in the blasted Deep Roads. He failed to remember the Grey Wardens, still working to find out if the masses of darkspawn gathering on the surface meant another blight. Gorim, her second and most trusted friend, reminded her of her salvation. He had not been allowed to accompany her, and instead was exiled to the surface.

Remembering that small fact, a glimmer of hope fluttered in her chest. Gorim was somewhere up here, and yes, the surface was a big place, but she'd find him. He said something about Denerim before he left. She'd start her search there, when her service to the Grey Wardens was concluded. If it was concluded.

Nuala sighed, lips curling into a frown. Her hand tightened again on the whetstone as she began the rhythmic movements of sharpening her blade once more. The only way to get to Gorim was to survive. And surviving meant she had to have the toughest armor and the sharpest blade and the strongest shield.

A pop from the fire startled the dwarf out of her thoughts. Her head snapped up, eyes flashing to the dancing flames. Through the fire, she could see the mage Duncan had recruited before heading north and leaving them a few days ago. He had been conscripted to save him from the Templars. Nuala didn't know the whole story, but the man looked almost as defeated as she felt. His blue eyes were downcast and shadowed by the dirty blond hair that hung over his forehead. Worry lines creased his pale skin – which was remarkably paler than hers. His shoulders sagged, as if he had the weight of the world holding them down. Light stubble surrounded his thin lips and chin, running up along his jaw.

Footsteps sounded to Nuala's right and her gaze shifted to the source of the sound. One of the Grey Wardens that had been in the Deep Roads with Duncan advanced toward the fire, eyeing both her and the mage. He offered them a small smile, dark eyes kind. "It's time the two of you get some sleep. We've got a long walk to Ostagar ahead of us," he stated.

"Don't you need help with the watches?" The mage asked, head lifting from what Nuala thought was a perpetually bent position. It was actually the first time she had heard his voice since he'd introduced himself, and she was quite surprised to hear it.

"You needn't worry about the watches, we'll keep an eye out. You two get some sleep. We should make it to Ostagar in three days if we keep to a good pace," the Warden stated before walking back to stand watch. The other two wardens took this as a sign to stretch out on their bedrolls and go to sleep. They would be getting much less sleep than either Nuala or her mage companion.

Obediently, the mage lay back on his bedroll, eyes turned towards the… stars? She couldn't remember if that's what she'd heard them called. Nuala bent back over her sword and whetstone. Steel was familiar to her, kept her grounded with the dirt and stone. She wouldn't admit it, but she was a little afraid of looking up into the nothing called 'sky.' If she did, her feet would leave the ground for sure, and she'd never be able to get back down.

"You're not going to sleep?" a voice asked from across the fire after a few more strokes from her whetstone. Nuala looked up at the mage, whose attention had drifted from the twinkling lights in the sky to study her. Dirty blond hair fell into his eyes when he turned his head, hand coming up to brush the strands out of his face.

The dwarf frowned at him, grey eyes falling back to the sword and stone. "I'm not tired."

"Suit yourself, I guess," he muttered, flopping back down on the bedroll. It was quiet a few more moments, Nuala marginally content in the silence, even though she was steeped in her own thoughts. "So, how did you end up with the wardens?"

Forcing herself not to audibly growl, Nuala continued to sharpen her sword, albeit with more force. "I don't want to talk about it," she stated, hoping to convey a tone that brooked no argument.

"Must have been something bad I guess, you have been quiet most of the time I've known you," he replied.

"I could say the same for you, mage," she answered, venom creeping into her tone now.

"Braden."

Nuala looked up at the mage, confused at the abrupt subject change. "What?"

"My name. It's Braden Amell," he repeated, eyes fixed on the night sky again. Nuala frowned but didn't say anything, looking back down at her sword. It looked nice and sharp, so she packed up the whetstone and began to polish the steel. "I know we were introduced but since I forgot your name, I'll forgive you for forgetting mine."

She paused briefly before answering. Afterall, he was a companion now. It wouldn't do if he at least didn't know her name. "Nuala Aeducan."

Braden nodded, a smile appearing on his face. "I promise I won't forget your name this time if you don't forget mine."

She reciprocated the smile briefly before nodding and replying, "it's a deal."

"Alright then, goodnight, Nuala. Don't stay up too late lost in thought. Those lines your eyebrows are making won't go away otherwise," he said before rolling on his side, his back to her and the fire.

Nuala shook her head with a small smile but didn't respond. Once she finished polishing her sword, she would go to sleep.

Snapping twigs and hushed voices brought Braden out of his sleep. It was still early morning, the sun had yet to burn away the gray mist that lingered. The fire had died down to softly glowing embers. Across the fire from him, the dwarf, Nuala, lay asleep, hand clasped about the hilt of her sword. Her short reddish brown hair framed her round face, strands falling across her closed eyes and cheeks. The voices hadn't woken her.

He sat up to look around, wondering where the voices were coming from. The other bedrolls were empty, the Grey Wardens that had been occupying them nowhere to be seen.

"Massacred?" came a hushed voice from the trees. The voice seemed shocked, angered, and Braden recognized it as the Grey Warden who took the first watch the night before.

"Yes. They came in the night, attacked the castle. I found Teryn Cousland gravely injured and he sent me away to find his wife and daughter. I looked everywhere and couldn't' find them," came the deep voice Braden realized belonged to Duncan. Then he was back from Highever, but what was this about a massacre?

"Who would do this?" another voice asked.

"The soldiers wore Amaranthine armor, though Arl Howe told Teryn Cousland that his troops were delayed because of rain. The Teryn sent his son on to Ostagar with all of Highever's forces. Howe took his chance to take Highever, though I don't know his motives. Howe and the Couslands have been friends for decades," Duncan answered. It was silent for a few moments before Duncan continued quietly, "I found the Teryn and Teryna in the larder, both dead. I don't know what became of their daughter, but we must get to Ostagar and tell the Highever contingent what has happened. They have a head start on us."

Quickly, Braden lay back down, pretending to be asleep when he heard them start to make their way back to their camp. He didn't want them to think he had been eavesdropping. That was considered rude in most societal circles. He heard one of them walk up to the fire and dump some dirt on it, scrubbing it into the earth and leaving behind a pile of ash and charcoal.

"Alright, it's time to get up and packed, you two," another said. Braden made a show of waking up, rubbing his eyes, yawning, and stretching. Across from him, Nuala blinked open her eyes, hands coming up to rub the sleep out of them.

When her eyes were hands free, she looked around and spotted Duncan. Confused, she asked, "how did your recruiting up north go?"

Braden frowned, but busied himself with his meager possessions. He tied up the elfroot pouch, folded his extra robe, rolled his socks into pairs, and packed each item carefully in his pack. He did all of this slowly and methodically.

Duncan sighed and Braden turned to look at him. He was frowning, dark arms crossed over his armored chest. "Not well, my Lady," he replied. It confused Braden every time Duncan used the term 'my Lady' when addressing the dwarf. Maybe it was just Duncan being polite. Or, maybe there was something there that the mage was missing, which was entirely possible. "There were a few promising recruits, but the castle was attacked before I could finish my evaluations."

Nuala sat straight up, surprise etched into her features. "Attacked? There was a noble family that lived there, yes? You will be reporting this attack to King Cailan?"

"Yes, my Lady. He is at Ostagar, and I will inform him as soon as we get there," Duncan answered. Nuala nodded, new fervor enhancing her movements as she prepared to leave.

They were ready to leave within minutes of the short conversation. They had a few days left to travel on the open road, but Duncan informed them they would not be stopping for longer than a few hours again. They needed to reach the old ruin with as much speed as they could muster. They wouldn't be running of course, since that would drain their stamina, but they did keep an even and steady but vigorous pace.

Late morning arrived on the fourth day of their vigorous pace when they approached Ostagar. Braden could hear the soldiers long before they saw the bridge leading into the old ruin. Waiting for them at the bridge was a contingent of soldiers surrounding a man in gleaming golden armor.

"Duncan! My friend!" the man exclaimed, lifting a golden gauntleted hand in greeting. His eyes were blue and sparkled with a happy youthfulness. His shoulder length blond hair was pulled back at the temples in braids and clasped behind his head. He had a boyish face even with a hard-lined jaw and straight nose.

"King Cailan! I did not expect for you to welcome us here," Duncan replied, coming to a stop in front of the King of Ferelden and giving a bow.

"I heard you were spotted on the road and had to welcome you!" the King responded happily, clapping a hand on the senior warden's shoulder. He looked at the rest of the group standing behind Duncan and his smile grew. "These must be your new recruits, Duncan!"

The warden nodded and indicated Braden and Nuala to approach. Nuala did so immediately, offering the king a small bow. Braden was a little more hesitant. He had never met anyone so important in all his life, even though many Templars felt they were so important. Titles and politics were never important to him, what with growing up in the Circle Tower. But he didn't want to offend the King either, or he may end up without a head. Following Nuala's and Duncan's example seemed the best course of action, so he moved forward a couple steps and bent at the waist, head bowed. He straightened his back quickly and stepped back.

"This is Nuala Aeducan from Orzhammar," Duncan introduced, indicating the young dwarf woman standing beside him before nodding to Braden. "And this is Braden Amell from the Circle Tower."

The king smiled, nodding in greeting to them, "it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ser. And my Lady Nuala, I believe you and your family came to my coronation."

"That is correct, Your Grace," Nuala replied respectfully, but didn't say more.

"How are they doing? I remember your brother Behlen being quite the troublemaker," Cailan said with a laugh.

The dwarf's face darkened, eyes lowering to glare at the ground, color rising to her cheeks, and lips turning down into a scowl. Her fists clenched at her sides, almost shaking with what looked like rage. Cailan frowned at her, noticing the change. Nuala took a couple deep calming breaths before she replied, "yes, he is still quite the troublemaker."

"Is everything alright, my Lady?" the king asked, worry bringing his blond eyebrows together over his straight nose.

"No, my Grace. But I am…" she started, but choked on her words. She looked like she may cry but beat back the tears with shear will, anger forcing the sorrow away. Clearing her throat, she continued, "I am afraid I will not do the story justice, my Grace. It is still too fresh a wound."

Cailan looked to Duncan, maybe to ask what had happened. The senior Grey Warden regarded Nuala for permission before explaining, "Behlen killed Trian, the eldest son and heir, and pinned the murder on her. She was exiled to the Deep Roads without trial."

Shock drained the color from the king's face and he knelt before the dwarf. Clasping both of her shoulders, he stated earnestly, "I am so sorry, my Lady. If there is anything I can do, please let me know."

Damn. And Braden thought his experience at the Circle Tower was bad. Well, he had been betrayed by someone he considered a brother, but that kind of thing happened in the Circle on almost a daily basis. One mage screwing over a colleague to get ahead. Another mage ratting out a friend to the Templars. But an actual brother killing blood kin and pinning the crime on a sister? Nothing like that happened at the Circle, even though the tower was filled with all kinds of other atrocities.

"Your Grace, there is another matter I need to speak with you about," Duncan stated.

"Of course! And I have battle strategies to discuss with you. Come, we can speak of this at my tent," Cailan replied, standing and clapping a hand on Duncan's shoulder.

Duncan nodded before turning to Braden and Nuala. "Braden, I will need you to find the other two recruits, Ser Jory and Daveth. Nuala, please find Alistair. He is another Warden who will be helping you all with your joining. When you have found them, bring them to the Wardens' campfire."

Nuala nodded before leaving them, heading into the old ruin of Ostagar. Braden followed behind, frowning as he watched her. She kept her head down, shoulders tense. He hadn't known her all that long, but he worried about her, especially now that he knew what had her so upset.

Braden jogged to catch up to her, slowing once he was in step at her side. "You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she answered, tone clipped. Before Braden could say anything else, she stated, "let's just focus on our tasks, Braden."

"Ok, just know if you need anything…" he trailed off as they reached the end of the bridge. Nuala nodded, and turned right around the wall and into the camp beyond. Braden sighed; she was going to be tough to get to know, and forget friendship. That dwarf seemed to be encased in steel. The emotion he'd seen from her earlier was the only glimpse he had of the person beneath the figurative armor. Maybe she just needed some time.

Nuala wandered into the old ruins quietly. She didn't want to attract too much attention, since she didn't want to talk to anybody. What was the name of that warden Duncan wanted her to find again? Aedan? Alan? Alistair. Yes, that was it. She'd only been half listening when Duncan told her to go find him.

The further into the camp she moved, the more she heard dogs barking. Intrigued, she roamed toward the sound, finding the kennels easily enough. The dogs inside were large, broad shouldered beasts with massive jaws and short tails. They studied her with an intelligence that Nuala was surprised to see in an animal.

"This isn't good. I'd hate to waste such a promising member of the breed," a voice said sadly. Nuala looked to her right, wondering where the voice was coming from. The kennel master – she assumed – stood looking in one of the pens at a sick hound. His eyes looked tired and unhappy, shoulders slumped a little under his leather armor.

"What's wrong with it?" Nuala asked, joining the man at the pen and looking in at one of the hounds. It had dark grey fur but wasn't as alert as the others. This one was still, save for the rise and fall of its chest.

"These are mabari, smart breed and strong. This one's master died in the last battle and the poor thing swallowed darkspawn blood," the man frowned, looking away from the dog and studying her. "You're the new warden, right? I could use some assistance. I have medicine that could help her fight the taint, but I need her muzzled first."

"Why can't you muzzle her?" she asked, studying the beast inside curiously.

"I'm not a Grey Warden, or a Warden recruit. I will never be immune to the taint. But you are, or at least soon will be immune. The most you'll have to worry about is teeth marks," he replied wryly.

Nuala frowned, watching the rise and fall of the hound's chest. That's what could have happened to her, if Duncan hadn't found her. She'd have died because of the taint, or because of a tainted darkspawn. She couldn't leave her to suffer. "Ok, I'll give it a shot." The kennel master smiled and handed her the muzzle to use. Carefully, she entered the pen and approached the mabari. The hound opened her eyes when Nuala got close, a weak growl coming from deep in her chest. "It's ok, girl, I'm not going to hurt you," the dwarf murmured as she knelt in the straw in front of the mabari. The hound's clear blue eyes continued to watch her, but she didn't growl again, even as Nuala lifted her head to put the muzzle on her. "You'll feel better soon, I promise." The mabari blinked at her, then closed her eyes.

"Nicely done!" the kennel master exclaimed once she'd exited the pen. "Now we can treat her properly, poor girl."

"What's her name?"

"I believe her former master called her Kali," the kennel master answered.

Nuala frowned, head cocked to the side. "That sound's dwarven," she stated. The man only shrugged, saying something along the lines of 'I didn't name her.' "Do you need help giving her the medicine?" Nuala asked, loathe to part with the animal now.

"No, but… might you be going into the wilds soon? There is an herb that grows out there that could really improve her chances. It's a flower that blooms in the swamps, if I remember correctly. It has white petals with a blood-red center, very distinctive. If you come across it, I could use it," he requested.

"Sure, if I head out there I will definitely keep an eye out," she said. He thanked her again and with one last look at the sick mabari, Nuala turned away. Her encounter with the mabari had done a little to brighten her mood, but at the same time, she worried for the hound's fate. But, she still had to find Alistair.

Except she hadn't the slightest clue where to start looking. She walked for a while before asking someone toward the entrance to the camp if they'd seen Alistair, since she really didn't want to walk the entire place. He was last seen in the northern end of the ruin, in what was either a destroyed Chantry or throne room of some sort.

"And I was going to name one of my children after you! The grumpy one," she heard a voice to her right say. As she rounded the corner and climbed the stairs that lead to a dais of some sort, she could see a tall man with short sandy blond hair and wearing bronze splintmail armor standing with another man who wore Circle robes similar to Braden's and the biggest scowl Nuala had ever seen. The mage he was talking to said something in a low voice before stalking off angrily, shoulders scrunched and fists clenched.

"Blasted Templars… blasted Chantry…." He growled as he stomped by. The rest of what he said was indecipherable mutterings, possibly to do with Templars and the Chantry. When Nuala looked back at the man standing at the top of the stairs, he had turned towards her. The front of his sandy blond hair stuck up, making his forehead look larger than it was. He had warm, hazel eyes. A straight nose led from his brow to his lips and stubbled chin and jaw. Nuala had to admit, he was handsome for a human, but he didn't have quite enough hair for her taste.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is the way it brings people together," he said with a wistful sigh. Nuala cracked a small smile and almost laughed but recovered with a cough.

"Are you Alistair?" she asked, trying to remain stoic and serious.

"Oh! I'm sorry, where are my manners? Yes, I am Alistair. And you must be one of the new recruits," he answered with an embarrassed laugh.

"Yes, I am a warden recruit. My name is Nuala," she stated. She looked over her shoulder where the mage had stomped before turning back to look at the boyish face of her new acquaintance. "What was that all about with that mage?"

A sheepish look fell on Alistair's features and he frowned slightly when he answered, "the Revered Mother thought it would be an excellent idea to send me to speak with the mages. Of course, she knew I was a former Templar and probably wished to push some buttons. Well the mage picked up on that pretty quickly."

"Sounds like she was trying to stir up some trouble. The mages are our allies, they don't have to be here," Nuala frowned.

Alistair nodded, "I'm aware. Most stayed at the circle, only a handful of the more experienced mages came to the king's aid. Either way, the Chantry wants to remind them who is in charge, I guess."

Nuala frowned, "this Chantry should be focusing on the battle, not petty squabbles. There are more important things to do."

"Speaking of the battle, we should probably get back to Duncan. Have you met the new recruits?" Alistair asked, deflecting the subject easily.

"No, Duncan sent Braden, the mage he recruited, to go find them and bring them to the fire at the warden camp. I assume I'll meet them there," Nuala answered. Alistair nodded and turned to walk down the stairs.

"Then we should get going. We don't want to keep Duncan or the others waiting," he said.

"Are you going to be coming with us?" Nuala asked as she followed him out of the ruined chantry/throne room. Alistair nodded with a small 'm-hmm.' "Well then, I look forward to travelling with you."

"Really? That's a switch," he replied, surprised, like he'd thought she might not like him or something. Well, she had been a little bit cross with him, she reasoned. Not to mention she was already in a bad mood to begin with. She sighed, she would have to do better with her behavior. She was supposed to be working with these people.

It didn't take her and Alistair long to reach the wardens' camp. Duncan was already there with Braden and two others Nuala didn't recognize. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing chainmail. He had red hair that was shorn close to the scalp, probably to hide how much it was thinning. There was a large bastard sword strapped to his back. The other was smaller and slimmer. He had dark hair and tanned skin and wore light leather armor. A bow and quiver were attached to his back with a dagger strapped at both hips.

"So, you've found Alistair, did you? Then you're ready to begin," Duncan stated in way of greeting before turning to Alistair, frowning. "Assuming of course you're finished riling up the mages."

"What can I say? The Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt, they should stick her in the army!" Alistair replied. Braden stifled a laugh to Nuala's left, disguising it as a cough.

"She forced you to sass the mage, did she? We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us," Duncan chided.

Alistair hung his head, "yes, Duncan. I'm sorry."

The warden commander nodded, turning back to the recruits. "Nuala, this is Daveth and Ser Jory. They are the other two warden recruits," he said, indicating first the man with the twin daggers and leather armor and then the tall knight with the two-handed sword. "Now that you're all here, we can get started. You five will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to obtain four vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit."

"What? We're going into the wilds?!" Jory exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Obviously. Do you see any darkspawn in the camp?" Braden replied dryly. He didn't seem to think much of the knight, not that Nuala could blame him.

She rolled her eyes at the byplay. "What's the second objective?"

"There was an old Grey Warden archive in the Wilds that was abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts. It has come to our attention that some scrolls may have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them," Duncan explained. He then turned back to Alistair, continuing with, "Alistair, I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can."

"What's so important about these scrolls anyway? And why leave them behind?" Braden asked, and Nuala was surprised not to hear a hint of sarcasm in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

"They are treaties with different peoples who are obligated to assist the wardens during a blight. They were once considered only formalities, but with so many forgetting their commitments to us, we have a great need of them. We had always assumed we would return to the outpost, and now we will," Duncan replied.

"So, get darkspawn blood and find old scrolls in an abandoned outpost. Ok, anything else we should look for? Maybe a unicorn we could ride into battle?" Braden asked, a cheeky grin on his face. There was the blasted sarcasm. Nuala turned to glare at him, grey eyes sharp with annoyance. Didn't he take any of this seriously? Daveth and Alistair, on the other hand, couldn't hold in their chuckles and even Jory cracked a smile, though the knight still looked green around the gills. Duncan was not amused.

"Don't worry, Duncan, we'll get it done," Nuala stated, in no mood to have the group completely dissolve into giggles.

"Good. Alistair will guide you to the area where you will search for the scrolls." Duncan explained. He turned back to the junior warden. "Watch over your charges, Alistair. Return quickly and safely."

"Yes sir," Alistair replied.

Before they could turn to leave, Duncan said, "may the Maker watch over you."

With that last parting word, Alistair led them to the gates to the Wilds. Nuala followed dutifully, Braden at her side. Daveth and Jory took up the rear, neither excited to enter the cursed woods. Not that she could blame them. She'd faced darkspawn before, and while she knew the necessity, she was not excited to encounter more.

"You headed into the wilds?" the man at the gate asked. Alistair nodded to him and with a grave look, the gate keeper opened the gate.

It had been days. Days since she'd eaten a full meal. Days since she slept in a bed. Days since she'd left Highever behind, and her parents to die at the hands of Arl Rendon Howe.

Guin was exhausted, but she kept moving south. She had to get to Ostagar, to her brother. He could be in danger. He needed to know what happened, what Howe did.

Thank the Maker for Ares. Her faithful mabari had kept her on track moving south through the wilderness. She couldn't travel by the road, not with Howe and his men possibly looking for her to finish the job.

Finally, the sound of a great army reached her ears: the clang of a blacksmith's hammer on his anvil, men practicing their swordplay, others laughing jovially while they ate and drank together. She crested one more hill and saw the white marble of the old Tevinter Fortress, Ostagar. With a sob of relief, she descended the hill toward the ruins, Ares at her side.