AN: I'm trying this new thing just as a lite reminder of what has occurred in the story. Not a total recap just a gentle reminder. Let me know what you think. Also characters current Bio can be found on my profile page, new info in bold.

Last time: The surviving Grey Wardens arrived at Lothering. Anna was grievously wounded at Ostagar, ala Bilbo, and encountered a spirit that reminded her name "Th'iareil". King Cailan was also grievously wounded and his consciousness was placed in ancient phylactery.

Leaving Lothering

Th'iariel felt dull. They had not paused as they moved through the lands north of Ostagar. The risk of being discovered by the darkspawn was too high, and she had to get Cailan's body out of the elements as soon as possible. His untrained mind mumbled constantly as he struggled to get a grip on his current situation. Unable to take the main thoroughfare, she and Hunter had to muddle their way vaguely north until they were able to find a road which led naturally to the highway and to Lothering.

In exhaustion, she stumbled into Lothering. Her gore-soaked and ragged cloak enveloped her drooping form as it dragged on the ground around her. Clumpy strands and loops of blackened hair fell like a sick veil over her dirt-streaked face from under the deep hood. Next to her Hunter pulled his makeshift pallet bearing the bundled body of the not yet dead king.

She cast the Chantry a glare before turning north. They crossed the small stone bridge over the creek. Other refugees and townsfolk watched her pass but said nothing and did not approach.

"I think my current state of filth is keeping them away." she mumbled as she found a spot on the rocky bank near the bridge and unhitched Hunter from Cailans pallet.

"That may not be a good thing." Cailan expressed.

Hunter stretched, turned circles and lay down between the town and his charges. Th'iariel leaned against the bridge and closed her eyes slipping into a semiconscious doze.

"You really should check in with the Chantry-" Cailan began, he was silenced as a memory flashed to the surface of her mind.

"There are no elves." The creche Mother leaned down over her, dark wisps of short cut hair curling slightly around her cheeks, hands on her hips. Her dark eyes glittering like the sunburst on her Chantry robes in the light from the hearth fire, "They are evil creatures of magic and the maker killed them all millennia ago. You are a good normal human or a magical demon there is nothing else."

Th'iariel pushed the memory away.

"... What was that?"

"Nothing, I'm tired that's all."

"Was that a memory? Your memory?" This was the first glimpse into her mind that Cailan had experienced and it was as if it was a memory of his own.

Th'iariel signed, "I was raised in a Chantry creche for children suspected of being mages. The Mother was convinced I was a demon or mage. I believe they were the same thing in her eyes."

"They told you there were no elves?"

"There weren't any in my creche. I don't know why. She insisted that I was human, she wanted me to say I was human. It makes sense now. I Knew I was Elvhen even then when I had no reason to think so."

"Aside from the ears."

Another dark flash.

"That means nothing!" the Mothers voice was shrill, "If they bother you so much I shall-"

Th'iariel removed the bauble, rejecting the memory with it, and placed it around Hunter's neck. She needed some time alone.

Darrian, Alistair, and Morrigan walked through the main thoroughfare of Lothering, heading to the fields and woods north of town. The last hour had been spent convincing a merchant to sell his food for reasonable prices so the tavern could afford to buy it, and getting work from the Chanters board to earn some coin.

"So..." Morrigan groused with false sweetness, "we have come to solve every squabble in the village personally? My, but the darkspawn will be impressed."

"We needed food and I got it." Darrian snapped, "We need money I'm getting it. Our reputation is bad and I'm improving it. All at the same time. Sometimes helping people is the smartest move Morrigan."

"Perhaps." She turned her head away, "I doubt that running errands in a small town soon to be wiped off the map will do much to sway public opinion. But, do as you please."

"Fewer bandits around is better in my opinion anyway." Darrian looked to the side as they approached the northern border of the town. Here there were no fortifications new or old, just fencing marking the end of town and the beginning of the fields. But off to the left of the road, just outside the fence, was a scaffolding of the sort that would support cages containing prisoners. Only one cage was there, resting on the ground instead of being suspended, and from it came a strange chanting.

Darrian allowed himself to investigate. The voice was deep and measured in its recitation. The man inside the cage was larger than any human Darrian had ever seen, with deep bronze skin and white hair braided close to the skull in rows running from his face back over his head. His ears appeared naturally pointed, but they looked more like the top of human ears had been removed instead of an addition of gentle curves that defined the elven point.

The giant stopped chanting when he sensed Darrian's approach, "You aren't one of my captors. I have nothing to say that would amuse you elf. Leave me in peace." he dismissed them with a wave of his massive hand.

"Are you really trapped in there?" The cage looked old and the man looked powerful. Darrian didn't think it would hold together if this man tried to get out.

"I am in a cage, am I not? I've been placed here by the Chantry." the man's tone turned from tired to proud, "I am Sten of the Beresaad, the vanguard of the Qunari peoples."

"Um, Darrian, of the Grey Wardens. It just doesn't seem that sturdy of a cage to me." Darrian studied the stoic face of the prisoner.

"You are a Grey Warden then?" Sten perked up slightly.

"Yeah, we are."

"Surprising." Sten returned to his former grave state as he studied them, "My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill... though I suppose not every legend is true. I have been sentenced to death."

"So you're just staying in there waiting to die?"

"Yes."

"A penitent man left to be torn to pieces by darkspawn, 'tis a fine example of the Chantry's mercy, is it not?" Morrigan's caustic query caught Darrian's attention from Sten, "Could not the Grey Wardens, in the state you are, benefit from the addition of a powerful creature such as this?"

Darrian looked to Alistair, who shrugged, "We have no way to make him a Grey Warden. But we do need soldiers."

Sten considered this, his face implacable as always, "It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here. I would prefer to die in battle. But my choices have been made."

"Right." Darrian didn't know what to say, "Well good luck with that. We've got bandits to kill."

The group turned from the caged man out to the apparently bandit-filled lands north of Lothering and left him to his chanting.

Alistair shook his head, "Left to be eaten Alive by darkspawn? That's cruel. I wonder why the revered mother is so afraid of him."

"What does it matter?" Morrigan argued, "Whatever he has done, 'tis obvious he is only in that cage because he allows it. That must speak to his control."

"Let's just get this hunt over with first." Darrian groused, "I don't like thinking on an empty stomach"

Th'iariel leaned back against the stone bridge. Her thick braid cushioned her head and the shield, under her cloak, was between her back and the stone, it's curve cradled her. She gripped the dagger's hilt as it lay across the chain shirt over her lap, half covered by the dirty cloak. It's deep stiff hood shaded her face and she listened to the sounds of the subdued village and babbling brook in a doze.

"Hello, there," A sweet, heavily accented voice jolted Th'iariel to consciousness, "Are you alright?"

Th'iariel gave the woman an acrid look from under her hood and remained silent. She was kneeling and leaning forward to bring her height closer to Th'iariel's. She wore a pleasant smile as her short straight red hair framed her cheeks, her hands were positioned demurely on her knees and she was wearing Chantry robes.

"You look like you could use some help."

"I'm fine." Th'iariel's voice was hoarse from disuse.

"Your clothes are black and they smell awful." the woman continued, unperturbed, "If you come to the Chantry-"

"I do not need the Chantry." Th'iariel sat up, the hood slipped back enough to reveal her scowling face and the markings on it.

"Oh!" the Sister's smile slipped into open surprise, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize... I understand your reluctance, but you are clearly in need of aid. At least let me help you get some clothes that aren't so..."

"Its blood." Th'iariel turned her scowl to her dress, "Mostly from darkspawn, I think, as when it gets wet it burns my skin."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" The sister's smile was back, "I'm Leliana, formerly of the Chantry. If you don't want charity from a Sister perhaps you would barter with a woman?"

"What do you want?" Th'iariel eyed her cautiously.

"I will find a new dress for you, and maybe a cloak, and you can give me that broken old chain shirt."

"That's not a fair trade." Th'iariel stood and removed her cloak so Leliana could see, "The armor is still fairly useful."

"It's true that the shirt is still in one piece... but you couldn't sell like that. Look, it is torn up to your waist in places and the corrosion..." Leliana shook her head sadly, "No it is in no state to sell."

Th'iariel gave the woman a hard look, "If you can find me clothes that aren't comically big, and a new cloak and help me with my hair. I will trade."

Leliana looked at the elf maidens hair. When she had first seen the girl she had thought her hair was black. But now that the hood had fallen away she could see what must have been incredibly long vibrantly red hair wrapped in braids around her head. The worst of the blackened area had a solid shiny look to it.

"Um, I'm not sure how much can be saved." she said sympathetically, "I'm sorry, it must have taken years to grow."

Th'iariel nodded grimly, "It's... understood. I just need this gore off of me."

"I'll see what I can do." Leliana nodded and left her there to find supplies to trade.

She didn't need to go far, however. Just across the bridge, there was an elven family arranging their meager belongings. Leliana walked to them directly and began to talk in a quiet pleasant tone, that same smile on her face she had used on Th'iariel. She motioned to Th'iariel and the elves glanced at her sympathetically. Th'iariel whistled and held up a silver, she didn't need sympathy, she still had a bit of money left.

The elven woman nodded and she tossed the coin to them. The husband caught it and the woman produced a bundle from their meager belongings. Leliana thanked them and returned to Th'iariel.

"Apparently the bandits had taken all their goods and they were only able to get them back just now. Lucky for you. You know, merchants would be happy to take your money in return for goods." Leliana teased as she showed the garment to her.

"I'm... not use to that." she had traded with a merchant that supplied circle but her transactions had had to go through the circle. Th'iariel looked at the dress. It was plain and faded, similar to but not so merry in its embroidery as the elf maids dress had been. This was the dress of a wife and mother after all, functional and not unattractive but not eye-catching. She let herself smile, "This will do."

Leliana smiled, "Good. I still have to get you a cloak and find some scissors. I'll be right back."

She ran off over the bridge and toward the Chantry leaving Th'iariel and Hunter alone.

Th'iariel turned to Hunter, who was watching the whole interaction from his position next to the pallet with the Kings body on it, "I thought you were supposed to be guarding us?"

Hunter glanced at her, gave a jaw-cracking yawn and lay his massive head down again.

Darrian, Alistair, and Morrigan trudged back to town. The lands just north of Lothering were now much safer, and they had a bundle of weapons to prove their work.

Darrian couldn't help but glance as they passed the cage with the Qunari in it.

"Have you reconsidered?" Morrigan followed his gaze, "We could trade him for Alistair if you do not wish to leave the cage empty."

"He said he'd rather die in battle, but..." Darrian looked at Morrigan, "I don't know anything about Qunari. Do you?" At her silence, he turned toward the tavern and the others followed.

"They come from the north." Alistair volunteered, "They follow some godless religion, and they are excellent warriors. Apparently, warriors are the only ones allowed to leave their lands and interact with the rest of us, so it's likely he can fight. If you trust him not to kill us."

"I don't think that cage could hold him if he really wanted to escape." Darrian mused. The innkeeper waved to them and motioned them to a table. The people who were there stood to make room for them. Apparently, word had gotten around that they were responsible for the tavern having food again.

"Your stew is ready, I'll warn you, it's thin." the barkeep warned as he placed a bowl and an ale in front of each of them, "We've a lot of people to feed. But I made sure you got some meat."

"Right, so we have food and ale." Alistair looked expectantly at Darrian, "Have you looked at the treaties?"

"Not really." Darrian said between bites.

"There are three main groups that we have treaties for the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi." Alistair explained. Apparently, he had read the treaties, "I also still think that Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first."

Darrian considered his soup, he wasn't keen on telling Alistair he didn't know where these places were, "The clan I had stayed with was up north and leaving Fereldan."

"There are other clans in Fereldan." Alistair assured, "The Brecilician Forest is said to have one wandering the area."

Leliana hurried past their table heading to the back rooms with a child in a dirty cloak.

"I've been thinking about that Leliana." Alistair fiddled with his mug, "Her plea seems wholehearted and even though she seems a little... strange. She does have skill. I vote to let her come along."

"A bit strange?" Darrian lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Yes," Alistair admitted, "but she seems more... "ooh, pretty colors!" than "Muahaha! I am Princess Stabbity! Stab, kill, kill!""

"A "Princess Stabbity" may be of more use to you in battle than one who stands around admiring the "colors"." Morrigan's expression mirrored Darrians.

"Right," Darrian looked between them, "We have some money and weapons we haven't sold yet. Alistair, we'll give Leliana a chance, Morrigan, I'll see what we can do about the Qunari... It'll be hard getting armor that fits him."

"We could give him that big guy's sword?" Alistair referred to a bandit they killed for the Chantry board money, "it wasn't too damaged. That was impressive by the way, beheading him like that. He was taller than me."

"I'm used to being shorter then the humans I fight. Not all of us get the benefits of a temple diet."

"...I-I didn't mean-"

"I wasn't serious Alistair." Darrian frowned at his empty mug, "You are a Templar right? I mean you... read as one, and you carry the shield."

"I read as a Templar?"

"The way you talked to Morrigan and her mother." Darrian said, "How you insist apostates are illegal."

"I never took the vows." Alistair watched Darrian as he explained, and noticed that he wasn't looking at him, "I was in training to be a Templar when Duncan recruited me. Is… that a problem?"

Darrian shrugged, "I don't have a problem with Templars. No magic in my family... My mother was arrested by them once." he hadn't looked away from the food in front of him, "She was a thief, she stole something they wanted back." he looked at Morrigan to address her, "What do you think Morrigan? What should we do first?"

"Go after your enemy directly. Find this man, Loghain, and kill him." She spoke matter of factly, confident in her conclusion, "The rest of this business with treaties can then be done in safety."

"Yes," Alistair mocked, "he certainly wouldn't see that coming. And it's not like he has the advantage of an army and experience and-"

"I was asked for my opinion and I gave it." Morrigan bit back, "If your wish is to come up with reasons why something cannot be done, we will sit here until the darkspawn are upon us."

"Of course! It's far better to run blindly into a fight than to consider-"

"Enough." Darrian pounded his fist on the table and looked at it as he thought out loud, "... We are Grey Wardens in a blight. We have been accused by Loghain, a hero, of killing the King. Killing Loghain would make us look guilty and turn people against us... like nobles... and they control the roads and armies. Besides, he's not our main problem, the blight is. He's just in our way. We need to get some humans- nobles, on our side if we hope to move our own army through Fereldan without push back. There will be time for justice, Alistair, once we're safe."

Darrian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He gave Alistair a measuring look, "Are you sure Arl Eamon will see us?"

"I know him. He..." Alistair released the sentence reluctantly, "raised me."

"He raised you?" Darrian pressed.

"Let's see. How do I explain this? I'm a bastard." Alistair started with false lightness, "And before you make any smart comments, I mean the fatherless kind. My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe Castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon wasn't my father, but he took me in anyhow and put a roof over my head."

"You sure he's not your father? Cause I've heard this story before, and -"

"Yes, I'm quite sure." Alistair interrupted flatly, "At any rate, I don't look anything like him... you'll see for yourself. Not that it stopped the rumors any. That was why he sent me off to the Chantry, eventually. The new Arlessa resented them... the rumors not the Chantry. I wasn't raised as the Arls son, or anything. I slept in hay out in the stables, not on silk sheets."

Once it looked like Alistair was done volunteering information Darrian asked, "How far is Redcliffe?"

"A few days travel on foot."

"We'll visit him first, try to get the hu- nobles on our side." Darrian leaned back, having finished his meal.

Leliana appeared at their table, now wearing a ragged chain shirt over her Chantry robes.

"I have armor!" She beamed, "Well, sort of."

"Congratulations." Darrian gave her a small smile, "Welcome to the... group."

"Thank you! I won't let you down, I promise!"

Alistair offered her the unwieldy bundle of weapons they had confiscated from the bandits.

"Mr. Tabris?" The hesitant voice came from under the hood of a faded blue spring cloak far too large for the girl underneath. Darrian was stunned to hear and see the elf mage he had met at Ostagar, Moreso, because she had somehow had her face tattooed like a Dalish between then and now. But it had to be her, those where her eyes.

"That's the Warden recruit I met at Ostagar" Cailan was back in his position on Th'iariel's neck, "I sent him and Alistair to light the signal fire. I'm glad they survived."

"It is you." she continued, "My name is Th'iariel, remember? Th'iariel Adulin. We met at Ostagar."

"What... I remember. What happened to you, Th'iariel?" He asked, she looked so small in her oversized cloak, she was pale and had dark circles under her wide plaintive eyes. He made note of her name change, apparently, she was using Ostagar to go apostate.

"Ostagar... I am glad you survived. It seemed as if I might have been the only one." she smiled shyly. She was just so relieved to see a familiar face.

"Yeah, … Here, sit." Darrian offered her his seat and ordered a bowl of stew for her, " You... lookin' for the Dalish?"

Th'iariel shook her head, "I'm traveling to Redcliffe, I have business there."

"We're going to Redcliffe." Darrian watched as she received her soup and started eating like she hadn't in a while, "We... could take you there."

Leliana looked up from the bow she was inspecting.

"Maybe you're too tall." Alistair grinned at her, "Or your ears aren't pointy enough."

"That's not-" Darrian floundered, "She didn't ask to join us in our fight. She was at Ostagar. We're going to the same place. It's -"

"It's alright Darrian," Leliana teased with a smile, "You don't have to explain it to me."

"I would appreciate the help. And the company." Th'iariel looked at them through her eyelashes, "I am Th'iariel Adulin. A pleasure to meet all of you."

"You were at Ostagar, Teeareil? Oh, sorry I'm Alistair, a pleasure."

"Yes." Th'iariel looked back to her food, ignoring his outstretched hand, "It's Th'iariel. Soft T ee ah soft roll on the r ee el."

"Soft t?" Alistair lowered his hand.

"The poor girl was covered with darkspawn blood." Leliana cooed, "I had to cut it out of her hair. Such a shame."

"And I am Morrigan," She leaned in to view the newcomer.

"Oh, right sorry." Darrian rubbed his neck, "Well, we all know each other now right? Leliana, do you need food or are you ready for a mission?"

"I have already eaten today."

"Good, then you can come with me and Alistair to the Chantry. We're going to try to get that Qunari released to the Grey Wardens."

"The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children." Leliana said somberly, "He has been in that cage for nearly a month."

"I still say he will be of use to us." Morrigan insisted, "Whatever occurred then, he appears sane now."

"We'll get him, if we can." Darrian nodded, "You should take Th'iariel to him and wait for us there. We'll head out of town right after, I want to be long gone by sundown."

Darrian, Alistair, and Leliana left Morrigan and Th'iariel at the tavern door to the Chantry to accept their bounty from the chanters board and meet with the Revered Mother. Th'iariel glanced at Morrigan and started to walk toward the bridge and Hunter.

"I have some things to collect."

Morrigan followed her. This Th'iariel was odd, something felt off about her but Morrigan couldn't quite tell what. The way she had greeted Darrian was odd. And for a Dalish she had nothing of her people about her, neither accouterments nor behavior, "I find myself wondering why a Dalish elf is sticking so close to human lands?"

"I have a name Morrigan." Th'iariel didn't bother to look at her, "I am here because of a promise I made."

They had reached her camp. Hunter stood, shook off his nap and padded over to smell Morrigan.

"That is Morrigan, Hunter. We will be traveling together." Th'iariel motioned him back to the pallet, "We are leaving soon."

"So we have a dog now?" Morrigan moaned, "Wonderful. Are those by any chance supplies?"

"No, it is a promise." Th'iariel spoke deliberately.

Hunter obediently allowed the harness to be reattached and followed Th'iariel as Morrigan led the way to the meeting spot.

Sten stopped chanting as they approached.

"The Grey Wardens have decided that you could be useful to them." Morrigan announced, "They are negotiating your release with the Revered Mother now. We are to meet them here."

Cailan communicated again, "Is that a... Qunari?"

"A Qunari?" Th'iariel echoed, looking up at the giant, the tallest, largest person she had ever seen.

"You know of my people elf?"

"I have only heard that you're big, powerful warriors and oddly compelling, apparently." She answered, "So not really, no."

He observed the women in stony silence.

"So," Morrigan feigned boredom after few moments had passed, "What were you doing at Ostagar?" Morrigan asked after a few moments passed.

Th'iariel thought for a moment, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Really?" Morrigan mused, "I wonder what the alternatives were that going toward the darkspawn hoard was the "good idea"."

"I wonder how you stay warm in that top, Morrigan." Th'iariel put a smile on, "But I expect the answer is either too short to entertain or too long for the time we have before the others return."

Eventually, the others did return and Darrian stepped forward with the key in hand.

"The Chantry has agreed to release you into the custody of the Grey Wardens with the understanding that you will join us in our fight against the Blight." He tried to sound official.

"So be it." Sten looked at the group he was joining, "Set me free, and I will follow you against the Blight."

While Darrian asked after Sten's welfare and they conversed over weapon preference, Alistair noticed the change in the group.

"Is that our mabari?" He asked, then added excited, "We have a cart?"

"The mabari is Hunter," Th'iariel explained, "and it's not a cart, it's a pallet, and a makeshift one. It would need wheels to be a cart."

"Still, we can use it to haul things right?" Alistair shifted this pack meaningfully.

"I'm not overburdening Hunter-" she turned to Hunter when he "oofed", "you stay out of this! If it was a cart, maybe, but my cargo is fragile, relatively speaking, and moreover so is that pallet. You can't just pile things on top of it."

"It won't do to start out obstreperous." Cailan advised, "I don't mind sharing my transport with food."

Th'iariel looked from the wrapped body of Cailan to Hunter, then examined the way he was tied to the pallet.

"I suppose it could carry a little more." Th'iariel relented, then added timidly, "I should be the one arranging things. I don't want Hunter to get nervous."

"No one wants a nervous mabari." Alistair agreed, grinning.

They paused for a while just outside the towns northern border to arrange supplies between the pallet and the rest the group.

"We done heard what was said." the rough voice of a peasant spoke behind them, "You're a Warden."

The group refocused from their task to find eight refugees with makeshift weapons surrounding them.

"I don't know if you killed King Cailan, and Maker forgive me, I don't care." The man continued, "But that bounty could feed a lot of hungry bellies."

Th'iariel raised her left hand to her face, palm out, holding only her first two fingers straight as the man spoke. When he cried "Attack!" she dragged her hand across her eyes and they fell to the ground, deeply asleep.

"What, was that?" Alistair moved to examine one of the men, "huh, they're asleep."

"We should go before they wake up and we have to do something." Darrian looked around to see if anyone had seen what happened, but the road was empty. The group left quickly after that, taking the highway towards Redcliffe.