A/N:

Sorry about the long wait. I've been struggling with some depression and wanting to skip ahead to more exciting chapters. I refuse to do that, but it makes it hard to want to write current chapters.

I would like to thank the wonderful guest who left me that kind review. I think I really needed it and I'm glad you told me those things. I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations.

oooooooooo

We headed off the bridge, away from the ruined wagons and pilfered goods. Mahariel had rooted around, gathering coins to put in his pocket, much to Alistair's disapproval.

"Well, there it is. Lothering. Pretty as a painting," Alistair said, voice high with sarcasm.

Of course, Morrigan just had to respond. "Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?"

Okay, I was out. I'm not taking any part in their fights. I ducked to the side, slinking away with Puppy at my side. Mahariel kept his eyes firmly forward, foot tapping absently with impatience.

"Is my being upset so hard to understand?" Alistair demanded, glaring at the witch. "Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

She scoffed. "Before or after I stopped laughing?"

I knew she was aware her mother was nigh immortal, but didn't yet know how. Truly, it was laughable to think Flemeth would die.

"Right, very creepy. Forget I asked," he muttered, looking away.

"You have been sort of quiet, though, Alistair," I pointed out, trying to distract them while there was a break in the banter.

He sighed. "Yes, I know, I was just... Thinking."

"No wonder it took so long then," Morrigan snarked, crossing her arms.

I gave her a flat look, and she smirked back at me.

Alistair crossed his arms. "Oh, I get it. This is the part where we're shocked to discover you've never had a friend in your entire life."

"I can be friendly when I desire to," Morrigan countered, lofty suggestion in her voice. "Alas, the desire to be more intelligent does not make one so."

"Anyway!" I shouted, "we should go get supplies. Yeah? Yeah. Supplies, let's go."

"Hold on, we should talk about where we intend to go first," Alistair stopped me, grabbing my shoulder.

"Um, into town, where the supplies are?"

"Yes," he stressed with exasperation. "But we need to decide what the general plan is afterward. I think what Flemeth said is a good idea." He turned to Mahariel, who shifted. "Those treaties... Have you looked at them?"

Mahariel nodded. Sneaky bastard, I never noticed. You would think the crinkling of old paper would be loud. Well, parchment, I guess.

"Well, then you know there are three main groups for the treaties."

"No, I don't," Mahariel answered.

"Right- What?"

I was a little baffled too. Why would Mahariel... Oh! That's right, could he read? I doubt anyone but the Keeper and the Keeper's apprentice would learn to read.

"Can you read?" I asked bluntly, just to be sure.

The elf shook his head. "There was little need to learn."

"Um... Well... There are the dwarves of Orzammar, the Circle of Magi, and the Dalish elves. I still think Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first."

Mahariel cocked his head, brows furrowed as he looked at Alistair in question.

"You are the senior warden, why are you leaving the decisions to me?"

Alistair was caught off guard by the question, blinking his doe brown eyes at the elf. He never did have a chance to make his own life decisions, he was used to being led around and told what to do.

"Well, I don't know where we should go! I'll do whatever you decide."

"Well, in Alistair's defense," I piped up, "Arl Eamon is rather close and, well, he's an Arl. Even if he can't help right away or whatever he could at least help fund us if we can convince him to. We're not exactly in the lap of luxury here and we really need supplies. Especially if we're going after these treaties." I darted a pointed look at Alistair.

That put a considering look on Mahariel's face. "... All right. Alistair, come with me. We'll look for news. Elizabeth, stay with Morrigan, and look for supplies."

Morrigan and I deliberately did not make eye contact as we watched the boys march off into town.

"Do you know the value of food and clothes around here?" I asked, taking note of the refugee tents circling the small village.

The witch scoffed.

I sighed. "Yeah... Bet you they're at least twice what they would have been before this."

We followed the path, Puppy trotting lazily beside me with a lolling tongue. I tried not to act too skittish as we passed a templar on the way in, copying Morrigan's air of nonchalance. I couldn't tell if the templar watched us from under his helmet, but I certainly felt as if eyes were on me.

The village was packed. It was too small an area to hold so many people, and every one of them looked ragged with desperation. If I were a better person I might have tried to tell them to just keep moving.

A tap on my shoulder drew my attention and Morrigan cocked her head in the direction of a merchant's cart. It was half packed, and the merchant was arguing with a chantry sister. Or, rather, she was arguing with him.

I really didn't want to get involved, but Morrigan stepped closer. The merchant saw her and latched on.

"Ho there! You! You look able!" More like a Chasind witch, like Daveth once feared, and a Mabari hound at her side. "Care to make some profit helping a beleaguered business man?"

Sleazy salesman.

Morrigan didn't even need time for calculation. "If your profit is considerable enough."

"Aha!" The man was delighted. "I'm not the only one with some business sense."

The sister puffed up, outraged. Even her chin mole quivered. "He is charging outlandish prices for things people desperately need! Their blood is filling his pockets!"

Okay, that was a little dramatic. I shifted on my feet, scritching Puppy's ear as I waited for the transaction to complete.

"'Tis only survival of the fittest," Morrigan responded, matter-of-fact. "All these cretins would have done the same in his shoes, given the chance."

"I have limited supplies. The people decide how much the supplies are worth to them," the merchant chimed, smiling in triumph.

I sighed in annoyance. "Yeah, okay. Look, ma'am, he's a merchant. If you think you can appeal to his better nature, then you're under the assumption he has one, which was your first mistake. You, whoever you are," I waved my hand at the merchant. "What will you give us if we scare the sister off?"

"100 silver." He answered, lips curling in further satisfaction.

"And a discount."

"And a discount," he agreed, "but just for you and your companion."

"Great. Now, ma'am, if you would be on your way?" I smiled sweetly and cocked my head. "You'd do better telling people to stop camping on your doorstep when there's a hoard of darkspawn heading right for your lovely village."

The sister paled in her rage briefly before she gathered up all her puffiness again and stormed back to the chantry.

I turned back to the merchant, and he was depositing a nice pouch of silver into Morrigan's hand. "You're a snake-y bastard, you know that."

The merchant only eyed me smugly. "Your companion has the right of it. Survival of the fittest. Now, what will you be purchasing today?"

I didn't like him, but he was a hell of a businessman and had every right to his smugness. Got us to run that lady off and now we were going to buy things from him with the very coin he'd paid us with.

"We have other people to meet up with first. Don't go anywhere, we'll be back soon," I told him.

Morrigan followed my quick pace, peering down at me. "Can you not purchase our supplies yourself?"

"I need Mahariel to help me get proper leather armor fitted and I don't know the value of what we have. Alistair might." Or Leliana, if they've met her yet. The tavern would be the first place they would go for news.

It was easy enough to find. A crowd of people were milling about outside, faintly afraid. Alistair and Mahariel were just exiting, a red-headed woman behind them. Three guesses as to who that was, and the first two don't count.

Leliana was a beautiful woman. I could tell she was curvaceous under those unflattering chantry robes, and her face was deceptively sweet, but it was her hair that most caught my eye.

My mother was a red-head. Orange, really, but it was near the exact same shade as Leliana's. The Orlesian woman's hair had more dark tones than light, but it was similar enough that my heart ached painfully. My throat closed a little, and I blinked rapidly to keep moisture at bay.

"Hey," I croaked. "There's a merchant we got a discount off of and 100 silver. I-I don't really know how to barter. You?"

"Ah, well..." Alistair made a helpless face, and Mahariel just shook his head.

"Perhaps I may help?" Leliana offered, stepping forward with a charming smile. "What is it you need?" Her accent was thick enough that I almost couldn't understand her.

My eye caught a small splash of red. There was blood on her robes. I glanced at Alistair and Mahariel. They were clean. I guess the tussle with Loghain's men hadn't ended in death.

"We need food and clothes." My voice was still croaky, and now it was meek too. I stepped back to put some distance between us.

"This is Leliana," Alistair introduced us, late. "Theron thought we could use a violent lay sister on a journey for the Maker." He rolled his eyes, making clear just what he thought of that in case we didn't catch his sarcasm.

"Okay. Hi," I offered, stepping back further. "Can we... Let's just get the stuff and leave. I don't like it here."

I ignored the strange looks from the guys and led them back to the merchant. In short time we had a stash of travel food (which sadly didn't include bread), a leather armor set that fit me better than the last one did, a few daggers, but no good undergarments. We had shirts, trousers, even practical panties, but zero bras. I was beyond tired of the soreness these wraps were causing me.

We paid for the things, leaving us about thirty silver left. Leliana had bartered like a demon with that charm of hers. The merchant probably would have gotten all his silver back if it wasn't for her.

I felt bad for the people here. People I knew we could possibly help, but didn't really want to deal with. A boy, crying for his mother who wouldn't come back. A young woman, asking for traps. The innkeeper who wanted poison, an old woman overseeing refugees that wanted health poultices. I wasn't going to go out of our way, though. We needed to stop this Blight. Doing every little thing to help every single poor soul along the way wasn't going to do any good. We're Grey Wardens, not folk heroes.

A deep, rumbling voice speaking a foreign tongue stopped us. Or, at least, it stopped me. The voice was familiar. It was Qunari. Sten.

We could see his huge body from around the back gate of the village. He was nothing like he was in the video game. In the first game they hadn't used the same concept for the Qunari as the second game. He had looked more human, less grey skinned and short enough to look like a tall man. Sten in reality was nothing like that.

Compared to the darkspawn, though, he was nearly eye candy. Enormous, over seven feet tall, easy, and broad. Still hornless, though. I guess some Qunari just didn't have horns.

His hair was the same, thick, white cornrows, but he had fading red paint across his bare chest. He was the most alien character I had met since this mess began. The only thing familiar about him was that deep voice. Somehow, this was a relief.

I approached the cage where the others hung back, even Mahariel. They had intended to just walk by.

Sten lifted his head and looked down as I stood before him, the smallest of the group.

"You are not one of my captors. I have nothing to say that would amuse you, female. Leave me in peace."

Puppy huffed behind me and nudged the back of my thigh.

"You're a prisoner. You've done something bad or people are racist. But I think it's bad, because I bet you could totally break out of this if you wanted. The bars are old and rusty. Big, strong Qunari, these are nothing. What did you do?"

Sten didn't answer, but Leliana did.

"The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children." Her voice was hushed.

"It is as she says," Sten confirmed.

"All right. Who are you?"

"I am Sten of the Beresaad- the vanguard- of the Qunari peoples."

I tilted my head, leaning back as I looked him full in the eyes. They were dark, hooded by his heavy brows and I couldn't tell the color of his iris.

"Do you want to redeem yourself?"

Sten stood straighter, tightening his jaw. "Death will be my atonement."

"Defeating the Blight is better atonement than death."

"Elizabeth-"

"Shut up, Alistair."

Sten looked us over, eyes shifting from person to person, before they returned to me.

"The Blight... You are Grey Wardens."

"Yeah, three of us."

He rumbled deep in his throat. "Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill... Though I suppose not every legend is true."

I grinned. "We can't all be as big and strong as you. So, if we get you out, will you join us?"

If Sten was any less stoic than he was, he probably would have sighed in exasperation at me. "If you free me, I will join you."

"Great! See you in a few."

The instant we were back in the village, out of Sten's hearing, Alistair blew up.

"Are you insane? You heard the sister! He slaughtered an entire family!"

At least he had the sense to whisper-shout.

"I'm sure he had a good reason."

"A good- He killed kids! When is that ever good?"

Oh, you're going to find out soon.

I shrugged. "Sometimes it is. Clearly you've never had younger siblings."

"I-! Theron, you can't be all right with this," he appealed to our de facto leader.

The elf shrugged. "He is a Qunari. I have heard his people are strong warriors."

With a frustrated noise, Alistair threw up his hands. "Don't come running to me when he kills us all in our sleep."

Drama-prince.

Leliana was eager to lead us in. After all, she hadn't stopped by early to get her things or to say good-bye to whoever was there she might have befriended. I wonder if she had intended to leave with nothing, saying nothing.

"Ah, wait." Alistair stopped us. "I think I recognize someone." His distracted gaze was on a praying man in armor, but not a templar. "Go talk to the revered mother without me, I need to talk to him."

Mahariel nodded. "If you're not done when we are we shall wait outside the chantry for you."

Alistair bobbed his head in agreement, walking away.

As we approached the revered mother she looked up from her reading, sitting in a plain chair wearing robes not much more decorated than Leliana's. I would have mistaken her for a regular sister.

"Good day, sister Leliana," she greeted, setting her book aside. "I'm surprised to see you still in Lothering."

"It is good to see you as well, your Reverence," Leliana responded, smiling gently and, perhaps, a little sadly.

The mother glanced around her at us. "I do not recognize your companions. Greetings. Will you be making a donation to the chantry? Our need has never been greater."

I saw Mahariel twitch and a sneer cross Morrigan's face.

I guess I was going to be the people-person of the group. Joy.

"I'm sorry, but we have nothing to offer," I declined.

The revered mother nodded in unsurprised acceptance. "I understand. Not all are wealthy enough to spare even a few coins for the Maker's favor. What can I do for you, then?"

"Ma'am, there is a Qunari outside the village we would like released into our custody. We are Grey Wardens, you see, and right now we need people like him."

She sighed, standing to pace. "Then his next victims might count you and me as their murderers. What do you say of this, Leliana? You know your friends better than I."

Leliana's face was conflicted.

"These are... Unusual times, your Reverence. With us, the Qunari might do some good." Her words grew stronger as she grew more certain of her decision. "I'm sure of it, in fact."

Again, the mother sighed, but she was already pulling open a drawer to retrieve a key. "Were things not so desperate..." She dropped the key in Leliana's hand. "Take this key to his cage, and may the Maker watch over you."

Leliana clutched the key. "Thank you, your Reverence. Your trust is not misplaced."

If I didn't know what Leliana truly was I would think she was naive.

We passed Alistair as we left, but he said a quick good-bye to his friend and followed us out in silence. Halfway through the village he broke his quiet.

"We need to get to Redcliffe. Arl Eamon is gravely ill without cure. His knights have been sent out to look for something to help, but none have returned with aid. Ser Donall said the Arlessa would know more."

"Then we'll go," Mahariel answered. "Our business here is complete."

Leliana was the one to set Sten free, silent as she did so.

Sten did not move, even with the cage open. "... I confess, I did not think the priestess would part with the key."

"She agreed to release you into our custody," I informed him.

Sten bowed his head briefly. "So be it. I will follow you against the Blight. In doing so, I shall find my atonement."

We turned away, headed to the other side of the bridge to continue onward.

We rounded a small hill just past the village and five men emerged from the nearby bushes to block our way. The whole lot looked guilty as sin, but determined.

"We done heard what was said," the least guilty looking one announced. "You're a Warden. I don't know if you killed King Cailan and, Maker forgive me, I don't care."

"Wait, sir-"

He interrupted me as if I hadn't even spoken. "But that bounty on your head could feed a lot of hungry bellies. Attack!"

The men launched forward and, from behind us, Puppy snarled with fury as five more ambushed our backs.

I screamed and burst into flames.

"Shit!" Alistair cursed and I could feel an exertion of numbness over my body. I felt like a thoroughly doused torch. I had never felt Alistair use his templar training before, but... I hoped he never used it against me again.

It was a surreal feeling, as if I was floating within my own body, just barely in control. If pressed, I could move my limbs, but not well.

I collapsed like a rag doll, and that saved my neck as a sword whistled over my head. Puppy barked ferociously and lunged at the man who would have killed me. I felt warm liquid hit my face and lifted a trembling hand to my face to wipe it away.

The men, for all their determination, were not nearly as trained as our little group. They were all killed. Not even a chance to run away when they realized their mistake.

Sten glared at Morrigan and me and spat. "Bas saarebas."

Foreign dangerous things. I just hoped Sten wouldn't leave after the revelation.

The numb feeling was leaving, but my body still tingled. Like...

"Darkspawn," I muttered, pushing myself up as my strength returned.

Mahariel's eyes narrowed, then he cocked his head as if listening. "Darkspawn," he agreed, twisting to look. On the bridge was a group, advancing on a merchant's cart.

"Go, before they die," I said, flopping my hand in the general direction. Alistair's lips tightened and he gave me a look. We were clearly talking later.

Sten followed after Mahariel and Alistair. Leliana deliberated a moment, but made her decision as she ran after them as well. Even Puppy left.

Only Morrigan remained. She looked me over purposefully and I followed her eyes.

"Aw, what the hell," I groaned. My clothes were scorched. It was a good idea to have bought extras.

"Mother was quite serious when she said you were in need of training," Morrigan murmured, taking off her pack. She passed me the new clothing, and I didn't care enough to find privacy to change.

"You think she would have joked about that?" I asked, stripping.

"You are my age, perhaps even a year or two older. You should have at least a modicum of control of yourself."

I snorted. "I haven't even had this magic for a month. I can barely even feel it most of the time."

She was quiet as I tied my trousers.

"For one with so little control, you have such power. I am fully trained, yet even I have not the talent to set myself aflame."

I glared at her and tucked my shirt in. "Ha ha."

She smirked. "Well, I suppose we shall begin your training this night. It would not do to burn more clothing and have you travel nude."

"Everyone thinks they're so funny," I grumbled, marching off. Morrigan chuckled behind me and Puppy came running up, barking excitedly.

"What, did you get the darkspawn, Puppy? Yes, yes, you did!" I cooed, slapping my thighs. He barked, flopping his big paws down and wiggling his butt in the air in classic playful dog language.

I laughed and chased after him up the stairs. Alistair waited grumpily, surrounded by 'spawn corpses and two grateful dwarves.

"Is that your hound, good lady?" The stout dwarf asked in good cheer. Good old Bodahn Feddic.

"Yes, sir," I answered, rubbing Puppy's back.

"Well, my thanks. He helped saved me and my son's life. I wouldn't have minded joining you and your friends on your path, but I've been informed you're Grey Wardens. My son does like dogs, but I'm afraid good dogs aren't enough incentive for all the excitement that'll be following you."

I smiled, easily charmed by Bodahn's good manner and practicality. "No problem. I'm glad he likes Puppy. I hope we'll see you around."

"Me too, good lady. Say good-bye, Sandal."

The blond dwarf waved mechanically. "Good-bye."

I waved back as Mahariel called my name. No big deal, we would be seeing more of them soon. For now, back on the road again.