I had to look back over previous stories to remember who I married Fergus to. Much to my chagrin I called her Maeve too. Obviously I need to read a baby name book before I name the next child or they might end up with the same name, which would be strange since they're different sexes.

In any case, please excuse the doubling here. They're not the same person, I promise.

The grounds at Highever were packed, despite the cold weather. It seemed midwinter was a good time to hold a tournament - most of the farmers were free and Teryn Cousland seemed not to mind having the common folk mingle with everyone else - although there was a stand for the nobles to be seated in. The fact that the elves were allowed to compete didn't seem to phase anyone and Neria had to accept that perhaps this Teryn's attitudes to her kind were rubbing off on his people. The only ones who seemed put off by the cheering crowd of Alienage elves were the few Chantry sisters gathered near the exit of the training grounds, and the severe, scowling Revered Mother.

"Oh, don't mind her," Fergus said as they took their places in the stands. "She's always looked like that. Ever since I was a little boy. I think she's frozen that way." The Teryn's wife, laughed. Little Eleanor had begged to be able to come to the tourney but was at present with her nurse back at the castle, and Neria had been delighted to meet the Teryna, a fiery red haired woman who seemed to match her husband perfectly. Maeve shared the same name as Anders' sister but there was little danger of confusing the two women. Rumour had it that childbirth had softened her somewhat, although Neria couldn't really see where.

"So what should we expect?" Anders said.

"Standard bouts of ten minutes each," Maeve said. "They fight to first blood or till one is knocked out otherwise."

"So who's judging?" Neria said.

"I am," Maeve said. Anders looked at Neria, then back at the petite Teryna.

"Don't let her looks fool you," Fergus said. "Maeve has taken my sister down in a few bouts."

Anders looked suitably impressed. Neria had, of course, never seen the Queen fight, but she was the Hero of Ferelden and the other wardens had described her prowess often enough.

"Well then," Neria said. "When does it start?"

The answer was, almost immediately. A servant came past with pork on sticks "Your stepfather said you liked it," Fergus said. "So I asked them to make some. Surprisingly good, actually!" and Neria and Anders munched happily while the first bouts began.

They were standard show fights, which to Neria and Anders were nothing new. The wardens sparred with each other in the practice fields at the Vigil all the time. Sparring with comrades rarely if ever resembled a true fight, however, and Neria found herself looking for flashes of originality in the fighters. Whomever had drawn up the lists had matched opponents well. The rogues were classed together and the straight warriors on the other side. The elves (there were only six of them, in the end) held their own surprisingly well - the most surprising being Vela, the rude elf from the Alienage. His fighting style was unorthodox and probably mostly self taught, but it was brutally efficient.

By the time the rogues and warriors had to mix there were three candidates who were standing out to both Neria and Anders as exceptional. Vela the elf - who fought with twin daggers, a woman named Hannah, who wielded a two handed sword with amazing proficiency and who was not a knight with the Teryn at all, but a commoner, and one of the knights, Alan, who fought with a longsword and shield.

Two or three of the other fighters were competent enough and Neria took note of their names - if they were desperate to become wardens and hadn't just joined the tourney for the fun of it, she would consider taking them back with them to the Vigil for Sigrun's more professional eye to run over, but those three outstripped their opponents handily.

"What do you think?" Anders asked quietly as they watched the second half of the tournament.

She named the three she thought were the best fighters and Anders nodded, but he also looked troubled. "I'm thinking we won't be taking Alan with us though," he said.

She agreed. Every time the man won a bout he gloated. It was worse when he beat a woman, and even worse if he beat an elf. The one occasion when he beat an elven woman - well Neria was surprised her family hadn't stormed the man and cut his ears off. Mind you, perhaps he underestimated exactly how well elves could hear. As it was the woman he'd bested stood and stalked from the field, red in the face and breathing hard. Neria was amazed she hadn't attacked him again, but such an action would have disqualified her from the rest of the tournament. It showed remarkable restraint on her part and although she wasn't the best of the fighters, she took note of the name - Maryleth - in any case.

None of the humans in the stands had the ears to have heard the remark. "What was that about?" Anders asked.

When she told him what the man had said lightning had flickered on Anders fists. "Charming," he'd muttered through clenched teeth. "Just the sort of man I'd like to see Sigrun gut."

The tournament finished with Alan crowned the victor, in a bout against the woman - Hannah, who had defeated Vela in the previous round. There was polite applause and the Teryn presented the man with a small pouch of coins.

"As you know," Fergus said to the crowd, "this tournament was held in honour of our Grey Warden guests, who have travelled to Highever in search of recruits for their order. I ask that the following participants stay behind to join us in our festivities at the castle and speak with the wardens."

He read the list of names Neria had given him - six in all including Hannah, Vela and Maryleth. Alan obviously thought that considering he'd won the tournament he was including on the list without saying. Neria didn't relish the idea of letting him know he wouldn't be considered as a candidate. She wondered if she could somehow fob that duty off onto Anders.

"Don't even think about it," he said as they made their way down to the castle with the other nobility.

"Can you read my mind?" she asked.

"Only when you're planning to make me do unpleasant things. You get this little twitch next to your right eye..." he reached out a long finger to touch her and she swatted his hand away.

"You're the senior warden," she said.

"I seem to remember giving that position to you. And in any case, think how much more fun it will be for all of us if the arrogant sot gets rejected by an elven woman?"

Neria stopped walking. "Um..." she said, suddenly a little more apprehensive. They were off the practice field halfway to the castle and the people surrounding them were chatting and laughing to each other. They received a few stares, nonetheless, but no one was listening to them, and Fergus and Maeve had gone on ahead to receive their guests.

"Hey," Anders put a hand on her arm and smiled down at her. "I'll stand next to you. And are you really frightened of a human and a non mage? You can boil his insides with one word."

She frowned. Anders was right, of course. She was hardly defenseless, there was no reason for her to be afraid. But the fear was there all the same. Humans. Big, smelly, strong humans. That was the problem. In the Alienage they'd been the perpetrators of everything wrong done to elves. At four she'd been too little to understand, but there were other Alienage elves at the Tower and they told stories about what had happened to them, or their families, before they were taken.

In the tower they were the Templars. And there were stories of what they got up to hunting malificar or just simple apostates... Of course the Chantry denied it and punished any who were caught but... It was the elves who suffered. The elven women, usually, although some of the time it was even the men.

Anders face crumpled into concern. "Neria?" he said softly. "What is it?"

She tried to shrug it off. "It's just..." she gave him an apologetic smile, "...shems. Like him, I mean. Not humans in general. At the Tower, shem was a word we used for people like that, since we were forced to live with humans any way. Not all humans are like that."

He did reach out a finger to brush a strand of hair from her eye then. The gesture was incredibly gentle, even though his hand would swallow half her face if he left it there. He was so much bigger. "Not all of us," he said softly. She leaned her cheek into his hand and closed her eyes.

"Definitely not all of you," she said. He tipped her chin and planted a soft kiss on her lips that tingled down to her toes.

"Good," he said. "I'll tell the smelly shem he can stuff melons up his arse if you want."

She laughed. "No. I'll do it," she said. He dropped his hands and smirked. "But I'd like it if you stood behind me and looked threatening while I do, just the same."

He cracked his knuckles and she laughed.

There was so. much. food. Neria sighed happily at the smells and sights that accosted her as soon as they entered the audience chamber of Highever. She'd eaten about four pork sticks in the stands, as well as two of some sort of jam doughnut baked good with sugar dusted on it (Anders had literally squealed in delight as they were carried past and grabbed the whole tray from the seller - it seemed he remembered them from his childhood) but her stomach was still growling.

"You forget," Fergus said when they found him. "I have a sister who's a Grey Warden. And her husband as well. They strain the kitchen whenever they visit. Oh, and you should count yourself lucky you have no children," he said to Neria, winking.

She blinked.

Maeve laughed. "When the Queen was feeding Duncan she ate enough for two Grey Wardens," the Teryna said. "It takes some people that way. I was the same, although my appetite never quite matched hers at its peak!"

"The Commander always ate more than the rest of us in any case," Anders said, smiling. "We used to say she burnt it off in righteous rage."

Fergus laughed. They were at the top end of the hall, with all of the potential recruits, including Alan. Fergus took Anders and Neria slightly to the side.

"I'm assuming you're not going to take Alan of my hands," he said softly.

Neria took a deep breath. "I'm afraid not, my lord," she said. "If he came to the Vigil he'd be working under a dwarven Commander... a woman, and be asked to work intimately with a number of elves - many of them women. His... attitude on the field made it quite clear that he wouldn't react well to that."

Fergus sighed. "He's been a problem ever since he squired with us," Fergus said. "He was an orphan - we never found out what happened to his parents. But he was such an excellent fighter..."

"May I make a suggestion?" Anders said.

Fergus cocked an eyebrow. "By all means."

"Send him to Denerim," he said. "King Alistair is always looking for good soldiers, and he's just made a new Bann who would probably love to have a skilled warrior in her guard."

Neria, who knew who the new bann was, gasped. "Anders, you can't be serious."

He smirked at her. "Come on, Neria," he said. "If Shianni can't whip the boy into shape I don't know who could."

Neria rolled her eyes. It was a neat solution though. If for whatever reason Shianni couldn't deal with him King Alistair would show the man absolutely no mercy.

"Perhaps we should talk to him first, then," Neria said, sighing. "Would you bring him to us?" Fergus nodded and turned to the tall man - who had a goblet of wine in his hand and was grinning arrogantly at the other fighters.

Face to face with him, Neria felt a little better, especially with Anders solid presence at her shoulder. The man bowed, although Neria noticed that he was facing Anders more than her when he did so.

"Ser Alan," she said. "I'm afraid we are unable to offer you a place with the Grey Wardens at this time." The man's face clouded and he turned his eyes on her.

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"At the present time," she said, "we are not looking for anyone with your particular skill set. However, the King in Denerim..."

"Excuse me?" Alan said. "Am I to understand you have the final say in this matter?" She inclined her head in the affirmative, keeping her expression as neutral as possible. "A mage? And an elf?"

"I am the senior mage warden in Ferelden, Ser," she said.

"I thought that was him," Alan said, pointing rudely at Anders. "Wasn't he the one who was with the Queen in Amaranthine?" Anders arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, you were the one. I recognise you because of the cat." Pounce seemed to realise he was being talked about and flicked his tail around Anders' neck, eyeing the man as though he were a particularly odious rat from his perch on Anders' shoulder.

"In the wardens we promote our people according to their talents," Anders said coldly. "Not their length of service."

"And they promoted her over you? What, is your Commander blind?"

Neria feigned a puzzled frown. "Whatever do you mean, Ser Alan?"

Alan spread his hands as though they were both stupid. "She's a knife eared whore."

Anders snapped. She could feel the tension explode into lightning without even turning. Pounce was up on his feet, hissing at the man while the spell crackled around her lover, setting her hair floating in static but not releasing into a full blown attack. For her part she simply folded her arms. "Perhaps I can control my temper better than he can," she said softly. "Which is all to the good, considering. I suggest you go and enjoy your victory banquet, Ser Alan. You certainly won't be accompanying us back to Amaranthine."

At the obvious manifest of power Alan stepped back, fear written on his face. Neria noticed the two Templars in the room had their hands on their swords and flicked a glance at Fergus, who nodded and went to speak with them. "I believe the Teryn has an offer to make to you," Neria said then. "I suggest you take him up on it. You're still young. There is hope for you yet."

"Not much," Anders muttered.

Alan scrambled backwards and fled the room. Neria wondered if he'd bother to return. She hoped not.

Once he was gone Anders let his spell dissipate and grinned widely as she turned to him. "Can we do it again?" he said, rubbing his hands together in glee. "That was so much fun!"

"You like threatening helpless humans?" she said, allowing her own smile to match his.

"I can't believe I haven't done it more often," he replied, practically jigging on the spot from the rush of it. "Of course it helped that he insulted your honour. I got to be all manly as well."

She let her eyes wander over his form slowly. "Yes, I may have to reward you for that later," she said. His eyes sparkled.

"I'll hold you to that."

"You two are pretty scary, you know that?" Fergus said as he returned.

"Did you manage to placate the Templars?" Anders asked.

"I told them if they dared to smite our two honoured guests in my hall I'd personally see them reassigned to the Redcliffe orphanage for the rest of their lives. The Revered Mother there is very strict. And she's a friend of mine."

Neria squeezed the Teryn's arm in sudden affection. "Thank you," she said. "Now... shall we get on with the proper business of the evening?"

The other fighters were all eyeing them nervously, save for the woman, Hannah and the elf Maryleth. Hannah's scowl hadn't lifted since the beginning of the tournament and Maryleth's eyes were shining with hero worship.

The other three recruits were all human men - two of the Teryn's knights and one commoner. The knights were Henric and Grahame, both sword and shield wielders, the commoner Peter, another rogue with excellent knife skills, although not a match for Vela.

"Before we say anything else," Neria said. "Let me impress upon you that I'm not conscripting anyone today. If you wish to become a warden, you are welcome to come with us back to the Vigil tomorrow. If not, you are free to leave." She waited a moment, but none of them seemed inclined to take her up on the offer. She repressed a sigh. None of them knew the risks of the joining as yet, and she felt for them. "Well, that's good then. Collect your gear this evening after the feast. We'll be leaving just before midday tomorrow - you can meet us at the town gates.

Vela lifted a hand tentatively. "Uh.. what about our weapons?" he said. "We're... uh..."

"If you mean the restriction on elves carrying weapons outside the Alienage," Fergus said, "You and your friend have exemptions for the morrow. Once you are wardens, of course, that no longer applies."

"I would be happy to say you were wardens right now," Neria said. "But unfortunately I do have to let my Commander take a look at you all before I can say that. You'll be issued with new gear once you've been through the Joining - although feel free to keep your old if you prefer it. We're not a very formal order."

Maryleth was eyeing Anders', or more particularly, his staff, which was enormous and certainly not standard issue. "I'm sure any gear you can provide us with will be better than what we can scrounge from the Alienage," she said.

Neria privately agreed. "Well and good then," she said. "That's all I have to say. I suggest you enjoy the evening. The Teryn has put on a spread worthy of royalty and I for one intend on sampling everything." She smiled at the recruits, who mostly smiled back, save for Hannah.

"What do you suppose her story is?" Neria said to Anders and Fergus once the recruits had dispersed.

Fergus sighed. "Her husband was at Ostagar," he said softly. "Duncan recruited him for the Grey Wardens actually, just before Ostagar."

Anders' head whipped round so quickly he nearly dislodged Pounce from his shoulder. "He was a Warden?"

Fergus nodded. "His name's on the monument at the Tower of Ishal. He.. apparently he was in the same Joining as my sister."

Anders' eyes glittered. Neria got the impression he knew more about the story than he was saying in front of Fergus. She made a note to ask him about it later.

"So she lost her husband during the blight?" Neria asked. "That's hardly uncommon. Or is her demeanor just how she's always been?"

"She had a son. He died in the first winter of the Blight." Neria's mouth opened in a silent "oh". Fergus rubbed his hand through his hair. "The poor woman went a bit mad for a while, left Highever and went to fight darkspawn with her husband's sword. When she got back - well, she was still alive and she wasn't tainted, so obviously she discovered a skill with that sword that might have helped her husband. I've rarely seen her matched."

"She's taken part in tournaments before then?"

"Every chance she gets. I offered her a place in my knights but she refused. She lives with her parents near the Alienage."

Neria looked at the blond woman again, pity clenching her heart. She would have been beautiful - if not for that expression.

The evening passed pleasantly enough, but Neria was suddenly homesick for the Vigil. She missed her fellow wardens, she realised. It felt good to have seen Highever - good to have met Anders' family, but she was weary of it and looked forward to the journey home.

Anders seemed to sense some of her mood and took her hand in his. "Time to take our leave?" he whispered to her. She nodded.