I think I figured out why I'm having so much trouble writing of late. I am completely burned out on Dragon Age. I've played through the game so many time that I can't play it for more than a couple minutes without getting completely bored, and about the only thing that's keeping me writing is my creativity which is both a blessing and curse in its own way. Well... the reviews also certainly help as well... hint hint.

This is another chapter that is almost completely centered on Roaran, although there's also a scene with Eebon, Dune, and Rica that I particularly enjoyed writing, and I've probably read it about a dozen times just because I like it. Hope you all like this chapter as much as I do. Enjoy!

I'm pregnant. Those two words might as well have been a sledge hammer to Roaran's head. 'Pregnant…' He had repeated, and Rica had nodded. 'Is… Is it a boy?'

Rica shook her head. 'I don't know yet.'

Roaran hadn't been sure what to say or do at that point. At any other time he would have been overjoyed for his sister, and swelled with pride at the thought of being an uncle. But the thought that she was carrying Bhelen's child… that did not sit well with him at all. Not knowing what else to do, Roaran had turned and stormed down the stairs, out of the tavern, and towards the Proving Arena. Dharr, Kylae, and the others all followed, and for once Kylae was silent. Eebon had indeed stayed behind to guard Rica, he didn't even seem bummed out over the decision, but he had seen more than his share of tournaments and other duels.

The guards standing watch outside the arena looked hatefully at Roaran's brand, but had no choice but to let him through as he was both a contestant, and a Grey Warden. As soon as he was inside, Roaran looked around and growled, "Okay… where do I go, and when do I start?"

Dharr pointed to the Proving Master at the far side of the room. Roaran recognized him immediately, it was the same dwarf from almost a year ago, the same one who had tried to have him executed on the spot. Roaran smirked, "Oh, this should be good!"

Kylae and Endrin both arched an eyebrow as they watched Roaran stomp away. Kylae asked, "Is he alright? I've never seen Roaran so angry… he's always been the one to make us laugh and just let everything slide off."

"I don't know." Dharr answered, "I've never seen him like this either. Not even when Bhelen betrayed us. I will tell you one thing though, I almost pity the poor blighters who have to fight against him today…" Dharr glanced at his companions around him. "Alright now, Dulin said that two of Harrowmont's best fighters, Gwiddon and Baizyl, dropped out of the competition, and we need to find out why that is, and convince them to get back in the fight. It won't look good on Harrowmont's part to have his own champions backing down, especially since Gwiddon is his own cousin. I imagine that they're both that way." Dharr pointed to a long hallway on the right side of the room. "That will lead us to the fighters quarters, all of Harrowmont's champions should be in there. We'd better hurry as well, once the first fight starts, all entries are final!"

Back at Tapsters, Eebon still hadn't even seen Rica. When he'd arrived at the designated room, he'd found it empty and the door to the bathroom closed and locked. Eebon had merely shrugged, and began to struggled his way out of his armor. It was nearly impossible to get out of it on his own, and Dune was little help on that particular matter. However, Eebon finally succeeded and he sat down at the table and began emptying the contents of his pack. On the floor by his feet, Dune whined, Eebon looked down at his faithful dog, and quickly handed over the remainder of his dried meats.

Eebon then pushed away the rumpled clothes he had worn the previous day and took the leather satchel containing King Cailan's letters. He'd never actually looked at them as he'd intended, partly because he'd hadn't found the time yet, and also because it didn't feel right reading through someone else's personal letters, even if he was dead. Eebon sighed as he unrolled the first letter, his eyes quickly scanning over the words.

To his Majesty, King Cailan of Ferelden:

My Warden-Commander assures me that we face a Blight. This thing threatens us both, and we must work together to fight it, lest it devour all. Our two nations have not had a happy history, but that is all it is - history. It is the future that is at stake now. Let us put aside our father's disagreements so that we may secure a future for both our countries.

My Chevaliers stand ready and will accompany the Grey Wardens of Orlais to Ferelden. At your word the might of Orlais will march to reinforce the Ferelden forces.

Sincerely, Celene I, Empress of Orlais

Eebon shrugged and set the letter aside. It sounded official enough, and like a typical Orlesian, Celene had used five words when three would have sufficed perfectly. Like most Fereldans, Eebon harbored no love for the Orlesians, but Celene was right that the blight threatened them all. The last two sentences did trouble Eebon however. 'If Cailan had been so set on ending the blight, then why hadn't he just invited the Orlesian troops in?' Eebon shrugged again. 'Political pressure, maybe? I can't see the Fereldans being happy about having legions of chevaliers parading through our country again. Or maybe it was hubris? Maybe Cailan thought Ferelden really could stop the blight on its own.' Eebon picked up the second letter and unrolled it.

He quickly started to read through it, then stopped halfway through, his eyes opening wide. "Dune!" He called, and the mabari looked up, licking his chops as he'd just finished the last strip of meat. "Listen to this!" Eebon read aloud,

Your Majesty,

My men will arrive as soon as possible to bolster your forces. Maker willing, this Blight will be ended before it has begun.

Cailan, I beseech you, as your uncle, not to join the Grey Wardens on the Field. You cannot afford to take this risk. Ferelden cannot afford it. Let me remind you again that you do not have an heir. Your death-and it pains me even to think of it-would plunge Ferelden into chaos.

And yes, perhaps when this is over you will allow me to bring up the subject of your heir. While a son from both the Theirin and Mac Tir lines would unite Ferelden like no other, we must accept that perhaps this can never be. The queen approaches her thirtieth year and her ability to give you a child lessens with each passing month. I submit to you again that it might be time to put Anora aside. We parted harshly the last time I spoke of this, but it has been a full year since then and nothing has changed.

Please, nephew, consider my words, and Andraste's grace be with you.

Eamon Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe

"Do not join the Grey Wardens on the field?" Eebon repeated. "Well, you can tell that whatever else Eamon may be he is certainly no warrior! Seeing their leader on the field with them inspires the troops, gives them strength! It's worth entire legions!"

Dune sat stiffly in front of Eebon, an attentive expression on his face. He barked enthusiastically.

"Yeah, that's right!" Eebon said, then caught himself. "And here I am, talking to a dog again…"

Dune gave an annoyed half-bark and bit Eebon's leg, hard enough for Eebon to cry out, but not breaking the skin.

"Alright, alright!" Eebon said, rubbing his leg, "A very smart, very loyal, very good dog!"

Dune barked happily again and settled back into his attentive position.

"And what in the Fade is this?" Eebon said, holding the letter out for Dune to see and pointing at the second paragraph. "He says to, 'put Anora aside'? Has he lost his so-called mind? Does he have any idea what would happen if Cailan had done that? I can't imagine the people would be happy, the daughter of Ferelden's greatest living hero cast aside like used clothing?! For the love of Andraste… and beef bones… there must be some cousin of Cailan's floating around somewhere. If nothing else, he could have named Alistair as a successor! I'm sure that if their king had endorsed him, the people would have welcomed Alistair with open arms!"

A whine greeted Eebon's outburst, and he looked down to see Dune looking at him, completely confused, and doing his best to imitate a shrug.

"Oh yeah… that's right… Dogs don't marry. And I can't imagine you having much of a mind for politics. It must be nice, not having to worry about marriage and just getting to go around humping every bitch that crosses your path."

The mabari nodded and barked in agreement. "Oh you have no idea, Eebon-master!"

"I never even met this Eamon guy, but my respect for him is taking a rapid plummet as we speak."

Dune lowered his head and growled. "Well master, if you don't like him, then I don't like him either!"

Eebon reached down and scratched Dune's ears. "You're such a good friend! Have I told you that recently?"

Dune whimpered in pleasure. "I don't know… it's hard for me to think straight when you- Oh holy cow bones, that feels good!"

Eebon unrolled and read the third letter, he read it aloud for Dune's benefit. This letter was badly crumpled, as if Cailan had rolled into a ball, thrown it across the room, then stomped on it several times, and after all that was done, picked it up and smoothed it out again.

Cailan,

The visit to Ferelden will be postponed indefinitely, due to the darkspawn problem. You understand, of course? The darkspawn have odd timing, don't they? Let us deal with them first. Once that is done we can further discuss a permanent alliance between Orlais and Ferelden.

Celene

As Eebon finished reading, he grabbed the bottle of dwarven ale that had been left behind, there was enough for maybe two swallows left. He drained it, and Dune bit his leg again. "Ouch! Hey, what was that for!"

Dune looked at the bottle and growled.

"Seriously? Seriously?!"

Another growl.

"Okay, fine, I'll get another bottle in a little bit and share it with you! Happy now?"

This time a half-bark. "I'll forgive you this time, Eebon-master."

Eebon held the letter in front of Dune's face again. "Did that sound flirtatious to you, or what? So apparently they're on a first name basis? Whatever happened to, Your Majesty, King Cailan, and Celene I, Empress of Orlais?" Eebon looked at the letter again himself, "And what in the Fade is this 'visit to Ferelden'?"

Dune barked. "Any second now he's going to get it… Just wait for it."

It dawned on Eebon. "He was going to get rid of Anora and marry Celene!"

"Now who's the bright copper coin?... Or whatever the two-legs call it."

Eebon went rigid all of a sudden. "Dune… I think I just figured out why Loghain left us all to die… Somehow he figured out about Cailan and Anora and Celene. And you know what crazy part is? I think I might even understand him."

Dune whined again and nuzzled Eebon's leg, then both owner and dog turned and looked when they heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, Rica standing in the doorway. She looked like a mess, but Eebon could easily tell that she was beautiful. Eebon stood up and bowed politely. "You must be Rica. A pleasure to meet you, my lady."

Rica was completely at a loss for words for several seconds. "Uhh… Yes, I am Rica… But… you really shouldn't be bowing to me. Who are you anyway, another Grey Warden?"

"Yes." Eebon confirmed, "My name is Eebon Cousland, and this is my mabari, Dune." Dune dipped his own head. "We've been traveling with your brother for almost a year now."

"Yes." Rica said, "He's caught me up to speed on what's happened… He's really mad at me isn't he?"

"I don't know." Eebon answered honestly. "I was down at the bar, and I just saw him and the others leave. They asked me to stay here and keep watch in case anything happened."

Rica nodded, "I see… Were you talking to Dune?"

Eebon chuckled, "Yes, I was. Mabari hounds are about as smart as people and they can understand most anything you say… And sometimes it just feels good to talk to someone." He sat back down, Dune sat as well and nodded at the acknowledgment of his intelligence. "Anyway… could you come and take a look at these letters? I could use another perspective on them."

"I don't think I could do you much good, I can't read."

Eebon arched his eyebrows, crinkling his forehead as he did so. "Really?"

"Almost no casteless can. We really don't get any kind of education."

Eebon thought for a few moments, then motioned for Rica to take a seat at the table as well. "Come-on. I'll teach you."

"What?" Rica was speechless again.

"Well… I can't teach you how to read and write in one sitting, but I can make some headway. Come-on."

Kylae and her friends found their seats among the restless crowd. They had finished their own tasks with only minutes to spare before the first round started. Gwiddon had been easy to convince. Apparently some deshyr on the assembly had told him that Harrowmont was giving up the election, and he didn't want to be fighting for the side that lost… dwarven honor and all. Kylae was starting to think that the entire dwarven world revolved around honor, but from what she'd seen so far, the only two dwarves she would really call honorable were Roaran and Dharr.

Dharr had more or less ordered Gwiddon to quit sulking and get back on the roster. Kylae had to smile. Dharr might have been an exile, but he would always be Dharr. Natural born soldier, leader, and commander. Right from the beginning back at Ostagar, they all sensed Dharr's obvious talent. He was the sort of dwarf who could command obedience with only a look from those grey eyes of his. It was small wonder that Endrin always asked him to take charge when heavy fighting started. Kylae remembered her heated 'argument' with Alistair outside Lothering, and how when Dharr had chastised them, they both felt ashamed of themselves, like they had let Dharr down. Kylae glanced at Dharr and Endrin off to her left. Kylae now considered Endrin a friend, but she still felt Dharr should be the one leading the group, Endrin had made a lot of improvement on her leadership skills, but she lacked the… 'how should I put this?' Kylae wondered. Dharr just had a kind of easy confidence about him, like he wasn't afraid of anything because he knew everything was going work out. Dharr also seemed almost an aura of command about him, people just wanted to follow his orders.

Getting Baizyl to reenter had bit more tricky. He'd been having an affair with a married woman, who actually turned out to be a distant cousin of Dharr's, and Bhelen's people had gotten their hands on some rather spicy love letters between the two of them. 'So much for honor.' Kylae thought to herself. Leliana had picked the lock to one of Bhelen's champion's room, then had picked the lock on the chest containing said letters, and retrieved them. Kylae had then convinced Baizyl that their efforts were worth more than just a simple thanks, and he'd rewarded her with ten whole sovereigns! Kylae laughed quietly as she remembered sliding Leliana five of the coins, 'That's your cut!' Kylae had whispered. Leliana had grinned and had the intelligence to stay silent.

The sudden roar of the crowd almost made Kylae jump, and she looked up to see doors on opposite ends of the arena open. Roaran walked out of one, axe resting against his shoulder. He was wearing his silverite scaled armor, but not the helmet Dharr had loaned him. "Hey, Dharr!" Kylae called over the roar, "Why is he not wearing your helmet?"

One corner of Dharr's mouth turned up in a smile. "Because he is casteless, and he wants all of Orzammar to see that."

The realization hit Kylae like a beam of sunlight. "That would be like an elf going to a joust and defeating all the best human knights!"

Dharr grinned and nodded, "Exactly like that!"

The crowd fell silent as the Proving Master appeared, high above all the others. His voice bellowed out, "This is a glory Proving, fought under the eyes of the Paragons, and indeed all of the ancestors. Today, we will find out who they favor to succeed the great King Endrin on the throne of Orzammar! Fighting on behalf of Lord Pyral Harrowmont is the casteless Grey Warden, Roaran Brosca! I think we all remember the first time he defiled this arena, let us hope that today he earns his much deserved reward!"

The crowd went wild with cheers again, but down in the arena, Roaran paid them no mind. In fact, if Kylae didn't know better, she'd think he looked happy. She elbowed the dwarf to her right and said, "I'll bet you five gold sovereigns that Roaran wins."

The dwarven warrior laughed. "You're on!" He said happily.

The Proving Master continued. "Opposing him is Prince Bhelen's champion, Seweryn of the warrior caste, who defeated his own father on this very ground at the tender age of twelve! What hope does the casteless stand against him?" He had to wait for the cheers to die down again before calling, "The first one to fall, or to yield is vanquished… FIGHT!"

Roaran and Seweryn both sprinted towards each other, Roaran with his battleaxe, and Seweryn with his war axe and round shield. Seweryn lashed out with his axe at Roaran's chest, and Roaran didn't even make the attempt to block or dodge, instead he poured all his strength and weight into his charge and smashed with full force into Seweryn so hard that the dwarf flew five feet through the air and landed hard on his back, dropping his axe as he did so, his helmet flying off his head.

The crowd was deathly silent as Roaran stepped on Seweryn's chest with one foot, and smashed the butt of his axe into Seweryn's face. Seweryn promptly passed out.

Now the crowd went into a frenzy, but not in Roaran's favor, they were screaming profanities and curses at him. Roaran however seemed to bask in their hatred, and he lifted his axe over his head, screaming his victory, his grin spread across his entire face, his eyes shone.

Reluctantly, the Proving Master stood again and called, "The winner is: the Grey Warden!"

Kylae elbowed the dwarven warrior again. "Pay up!" She demanded, and the dwarf swore loudly before dropping five gold coins into her waiting hand.

There were two more bouts that followed before Roaran reentered the arena. Harrowmont's champion won the first, and Bhelen's champion, Piotin Aeducan, another of Dharr's cousins, won the second. Then Roaran strode back into the arena to another chorus of curses. Roaran planted the butt of his axe against the dirt floor and thrust his fist into the air, Kylae suspected it was to taunt the audience, and if that was his intention it worked. The frenzy and swearing from the stands only increased in volume. Kylae nudged the dwarf next to her again. "Double or nothing." She said.

The warrior nodded, although he didn't seem quite as confident. "Your casteless cannot possibly be lucky enough to win two rounds."

"The second round commences!" The Proving Master boomed. "In a shocking turn of events, the casteless Warden defeated Seweryn, but will now his luck has certainly come to an end as he faces against the warrior caste's twin terrors: Myaja and Lucjan!" He stopped to give the cheering of the crowd a chance to die off, then he bellowed, "FIGHT!"

Kylae watched, spellbound as Roaran stood his ground, waiting for the twins to attack. He didn't have to wait long, Myaja came forward to meet him with longsword and kite shield, while Lucjan circled around hind him and went to work with his twin daggers. Kylae winced as she watched, Roaran was ignoring Lucjan completely, and focusing all his attention on Myaja, always pressing her backwards, and not giving her time to take the offensive. Finally her guard broke, and one of Roaran's brutal strikes got past her guard, breaking her sword arm. Myaja dropped her sword and screamed in pain, then her eyes widened as she saw Roaran bringing his axe back for another crushing blow.

"I yield! I yield!" Myaja yelled.

Roaran pivoted on the balls of his feet and spun around, bringing the flat of his axe with full force to smash into Lucjan's unprotected head. Lucjan went down like a sack of potatoes. Roaran went to his knees for a few seconds, and Kylae curled her lips backwards in sympathetic pain, the back of Roaran's scale armor was stained crimson from the blood that poured down his back. He'd taken some pretty bad hits from Lucjan. All the same however, Roaran quickly came back to his feet, raising his axe into the air with one hand and beating his chest with the other.

Now the crowd was silent, Kylae knew they were all wondering how a lone casteless dwarf could beat two warrior caste poster children, not to mention how soundly he'd defeated Seweryn. Across the arena from Kylae, a single dwarf stood up and yelled, "Prince Bhelen has lost favor with the ancestors! The Paragons have sent this casteless to punish him! Glory and honor to the Grey Warden!" Around the arena stands, a few dwarves began to cheer, but for the most part, silence reigned.

The Proving Master bellowed, "The winner is: the Grey Warden!"

Kylae looked back at the dwarf and grinned evilly. "My ten sovereigns, please?"

The dwarf swore and scowled, and for a moment Kylae thought she was going to get stiffed, but apparently honor still counted for something, and the dwarf dumped the agreed-on coins in her hand, then he stood and stormed out of the arena.

"Dharr," Kylae called, and the former prince turned to look at her. "Can Roaran still fight? It looks like he got hurt pretty badly."

Dharr nodded, "He won't have a choice. They'll have a healer see him, although it won't be like being healed by a mage. I don't think there's anything to worry about… you know how tough Roaran really is, and Bhelen's champions will be suffering their own injuries as well.

More champions strode out onto the arena, and again the victories were even. Harrowmont's champion winning another round, as well as Piotin. Kylae had a feeling who the final round was going to boil down to.

The third round commenced, and Roaran was paired off against someone introduced as Lady Hanashan, a Silent Sister. Dharr explained that the Silent Sisters were an order of all female warriors founded by one of the dwarves paragons, Astyth the Grey, who was also a mute. The Silent Sisters in honor of her memory would often cut out their own tongues. Endrin grimaced at that bit of information.

Kylae shifted in her seat so she could look at the dwarves sitting behind her. "I'll bet twenty-five sovereigns that Roaran wins this round as well!"

The dwarves looked at one to another, then one of them, an older warrior who looked to be drawing near the end of his fighting days nodded. "Twenty-five sovereigns it is. I know Lady Hanashan, I've seen her fight before, and your Warden friend does not stand a chance!"

Endrin glanced at Kylae and muttered, "Do you even have twenty-five sovereigns?"

"Nope." Kylae grinned.

Hanashan was armed with a greatsword, but only armored with a light surcoat of chainmail, and as such moved with far more speed and agility than Roaran could. Hanashan ducked under Roaran's swing and spun around low to the ground, kicking out backwards and landing a solid kick to the back or Roaran's leg and he tumbled to the ground. Hanashan came back up fast and swung her sword down at Roaran's chest. Roaran only bare had enough time to raise his axe and block the greatsword on the shaft of his own weapon, then swung his axe around, forcing Hanashan to jump backwards. Roaran rolled to his feet and rammed his shoulder into her stomach, but the Silent Sister recovered almost instantly, and brought the pommel of her sword smashing down on Roaran's already injured back. Roaran crashed hard on the ground, but as Hanashan brought her sword up for the blow that would certainly bring her victory, Roaran proved he had only been bluffing as he rose to his hands and feet, then pushed off, ramming his head into Hanashan's lightly armored stomach with full force. With Hanashan's sword held above her head already throwing her off balance, Roaran managed to push her off her feet, driving her to the ground with himself on top of her. Roaran balled both his hands into fists and brought them down on her face. Hanashan's eyelids fluttered for a moment, then closed and her body fell limp.

"The winner is: the Grey Warden!"

Roaran jumped to his feet, thrusting both fists into the air, and yelling for all he was worth. Pride, and happiness, and retribution for a lifetime of hardships echoed in his shout. Only this time, fully half of the audience stood to their feet, stomping their boots against the stone, pumping their fists into the air and cheering. Roaran basked in their praise much the same way he'd basked in their hatred only a short time ago. Kylae found that curious.

Kylae twisted around again and held out an open hand. "Pay the lady!" She smirked.

Dharr and Endrin both laughed at the look of pure joy as Kylae dumped the gold coins into her now bulging coin purse. At first she only tied the drawstrings down tightly, then thought better of it, untied the purse from her belt and tucked it carefully under her armor, then she looked at her friends and grinned. "It's uncomfortable, but I don't want to take the chance of some sodding sneak-thief cutting it off and making a run for it!"

The remainder of the round did not go well for Harrowmont's champions, as both Gwiddon and Baizyl were defeated by Bhelen's two remaining fighters, Wojeck Ivo, and Piotin Aeducan. Roaran was now Harrowmont's last hope of winning the Proving, and the Wardens last chance of getting an audience with Harrowmont, and Roaran wasn't looking so good as he entered the arena for the fourth time, as did Wojeck Ivo and another dwarf.

"He has to fight against two again?" Kylae said, "Just look how tired he is!"

Just as Dharr opened his mouth to explain, the Proving Master's voice boomed, "And so the fourth round begins! This round is paired combat. Harrowmont's champion, the Grey Warden, Roaran Brosca has made an impressive show to say the least. But now he faces Wojeck Ivo, truly a master of all weapons, and his second, Velanz! Grey Warden, who will fight as your second?"

Roaran planted the head of his axe against the dirt floor of the arena and looked into the stands, he quickly located his friends and pointed directly at Kylae. "I choose Kylae Tabris!"

Kylae's eyes widened. "Did he just say me?" Both Endrin and Dharr nodded. Kylae blinked a few times before taking her coin purse out from under her armor and handing it to Endrin. "Here," she said, "Make another bet for me. I think fifty sovereigns sounds good." Then she bounded down the stands and leapt over the side.

As Kylae took her place at Roaran's side, the dwarves filling the arena erupted into cheers, and Kylae heard more than a few whistles and catcalls.

From his stand high above everyone else, the Proving Master yelled, "The pair that falls first is vanquished! FIGHT!"

The battle was short, and far more vicious than the previous matches. Velanz went down quickly under Kylae and her lightning fast daggers, but although they now outnumbered Wojeck, the warrior refused to go down, his axe and shield moving in a blur of motion, striking as if his muscles were made of steel rather than sinew. Although the battle could not have lasted more than two minutes at most, it seemed like forever for Roaran and Kylae, but eventually Wojeck was beaten down under their furious and continuous assaults, but not before smashing his shield into Roaran's head.

"The Grey Warden advances to the final round and will be permitted a one hour period to rest." The Proving Master called. "Healers, tend to his injuries. Grey Warden, in the final round, both you and Piotin will command a full team of three other warriors. Make your choice now so they may begin preparations."

A bloodied and completely exhausted Roaran looked back at Kylae. "Kylae Tabris, Dharr Aeducan, and Sten of the Beresaad!"

In the silence that followed, the spectating warriors once more erupted into cheers. As Kylae looked around the packed arena, she saw that only a handful of warriors still refused to celebrate Roaran, but now they didn't care scream out curses against him and only sat and sulked. The dwarven warrior who had previously denounced Bhelen now stood up and began pumping his fist into the air and rhythmically chanting, "Grey Warden! Grey Warden! Grey Warden!" It wasn't long before others started to follow him, until the arena reverberated with the chant. Roaran and Kylae still stood in the center, continually turning to look at hundreds of dwarves, then as one, the two friends raised their weapons into the air. The chanting stopped to give way to frenzied cheering again.

It took several minutes for the screaming and cheering to die down. When it finally did, Dharr nudged Alistair and said, "I won't be fighting with Roaran. You need to take my place."

"What?" The surprise on Alistair's face was evident. "Why?"

"Because of who I am." Dharr answered. "If I fight with Roaran, then it won't be long until this was seen as my victory rather than his. I want Roaran to have this honor, and be respected by the other castes."

Alistair nodded. "I can understand that. Very well, I'll do it!"

"My thanks." Dharr nodded back. "And be careful. Piotin is my cousin, and a berserker on top of that. Just as furious in battle as Eebon, but more controlled. He's never been defeated."

"Oh great…" Alistair mumbled sarcastically. "No pressure or anything!"

All too soon, Roaran, Kylae, Sten, and Alistair were glaring across the arena at Piotin and his team, all battle-hardened Deep Roads veterans. Piotin stepped forward and called, "You fight well, Roaran Brosca of the Grey Wardens! But this is where you fall!" As Piotin lowered his helmet over his head, the berserker rage began to burn behind his eyes.

"Talk's cheap!" Roaran yelled back, "Let's see what your guts look like!"

"FIGHT!" The Proving Master bellowed, and the eight fighters ran towards each other, their own battlecries drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

Rica had shown herself to be both very intelligent, and very patient. In the few hours since the start of the lesson, Eebon had taught her the alphabet and how to right her name, as well as his own and Dune's. The three of them were having their first drinking break when they all heard loud cheering coming from downstairs.

"My guess is that that means the Proving is over." Rica said.

Eebon stood and fixed his sword across his back again. "Come-on, let's go see who won." Eebon led the way down the stairs to the tavern. The scene downstairs had Eebon and Rica both laughing almost instantly. Roaran, a tankard of ale in either hand was being carried all around the now packed room on the shoulders of Dharr and several other dwarves. Eebon pushed his way through the crowd to where Endrin was standing near the door. "I'm guessing we won?" Eebon had to yell to be heard over crowd.

"Yes!" Endrin yelled back, she took a step closer, getting her mouth as close to Eebon's ear as she could reach before yelling, "We were going to come back here to meet Dulin, and then the crowd caught Roaran."

"I think we're going to have to wait until things die down a bit." Eebon yelled back, "I just hope Roaran will be sober enough to walk when that happens!"

Endrin laughed and nodded before saying, "I'm going back outside… I can't even hear myself think in here!"

"Right behind you." Eebon returned.

Once outside of the tavern, Endrin breathed much easier. With Eebon following a few steps behind, Endrin slowly meandered around the commons. She'd never seen anything like Orzammar before. An entire city underground! If Endrin hadn't been there to see it for herself she never would have believed it. An entire city that had never been touched by sunlight, and yet it thrived. Endrin wondered if the massive cavern that held most of the city was natural or had been carved out by the dwarves over the centuries. The thought of how many people and how long it would have taken to complete such a task was incomprehensible.

Another thing about the city that Endrin found of particular interest was how Orzammar was illuminated almost entirely by lava. There was a massive pool of lava under the city at the bottom of a deep chasm, and the dwarves had carved small trenches to the sides of the roadways and even into the walls in some places, both to provide much needed light and heat.

Eebon drew more than few curious stares from the dwarven populace, but Endrin drew even more. During better days, humans were an almost every day sight in Orzammar as they came to trade. Elves on the other hand were far less common sight. Endrin glanced back at Eebon and asked, "Do you think that any Dalish before me as set foot in this city?"

"Probably not." Eebon answered. "Although it's possible I suppose."

Endrin stopped walking and turned around to look at her friend. "I think I'm the first!" She grinned and laughed quietly before saying, "Another first for the Dalish!"

The look on Endrin's face forced Eebon to laugh. Much like himself, it was rare for Endrin to seem so completely happy like she was now, no traces of the pain she'd been carrying for so long. Even the burden of command had been temporarily lifted from her shoulders. "You're loving this aren't you?"

"I am." Endrin smiled again. "I know that probably doesn't seem right with the blight and everything else that's going on, but I am happy. The traveling, the adventures we've had, the people we've met! I think that in a way I've managed to find myself during our quest, and I know that I have found my true clan." Endrin moved to edge of the road and looked down into the chasm and the lake of lava at the bottom.

Eebon joined her. "And you found Alistair." He said, watching her out of the corner of his eye for a reaction.

"Yes." Endrin said, her smile and happy expression never faltering. "I did."

"Do you love him?"

Endrin glanced at Eebon, and didn't answer right away. Eebon could tell that she was thinking about her answer. "I think…" Endrin said, and her eyes quickly moved back to the lava before returning to Eebon. "I think I do… But… I don't know. I've never been in love before. Not even close."

"Really?" Eebon asked, and now he was the one who arched an eyebrow.

"Yes." Endrin answered, smirking at how Eebon had stolen her expression. "Is that really so hard to believe?"

"It is actually. Alistair is right, you are a very beautiful woman, but you are also more than that. You're smart, caring, quick-witted. You can be funny when the time calls for it, and deadly serious when you need to be." Eebon looked down into the pool of molten lava. "I'm actually surprised that no one found those qualities attractive in you before Alistair did." Eebon surprised himself at how easily he was able to say all that, but during their time together, Eebon and Endrin had both become very comfortable around each other.

Endrin eyed her friend a bit skeptically, and it was her turn to arch a single eyebrow and say, "So you don't?" She had intended it as a joke, and although Eebon knew that, he could not find it funny.

"I didn't say that." He said seriously, his eyes staying focused on the swirling pool lava far below.

"Kylae?" Endrin asked.

"Yes."

"You still love her don't you?"

"Yes." Eebon said again.

"And what about Leliana?"

Eebon winced. "I see you know about that."

Endrin nodded. "I notice a lot of things. One of the added benefits of my hunter training I suppose."

"Does anyone else know?"

"I can't see how they don't." Endrin shrugged. "So what about you and Leliana? You've been getting rather close recently, and I've noticed that she tends to stay up with you when you pull guard duty."

"I don't know… I really don't. She seems so sweet and innocent, but if you read between the lines when she tells her stories… as well as what she's told us about her past life as a bard… Well, let's just say that she's not as innocent as she seems. Not that I really have a problem with that, I'm no pillar of righteousness myself, but it does make we wonder how well I actually know her."

Endrin sighed. "Her past life is really doesn't make much difference to me, it's who she is now that's important. I know that she's been a good friend to me, and she's been a great help to all of us. But she's no Kylae, that's for sure."

"I miss her… Kylae. I mean I miss the way things used to be with us. She was a good friend, and much more than that to me. You've seen the fiery side of her, and how she is very guarded as to who she lets in close to her. But I've seen what's past that. She has a soft side, a tenderness and vulnerability that she works hard to hide… but I saw it. And then I had to ruin it."

Endrin instantly was reminded of the night she had sparred with Kylae, and then the City Elf had shared the story of her mother, and her mother's disappearance. Endrin laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You need to tell her how you feel. And that you still care for her."

"How?" Eebon shrugged. "She hates me right now. The last time I tried to talk to her she just glared at me until I looked away. She's convinced that I was only used her to satisfy my own needs, both as a Grey Warden, and…" He couldn't finish. "How am I supposed to tell her that she's wrong? That she's so much more than just another Grey Warden to me, and not just another pretty face?"

"I don't know." Endrin admitted. "Matters of the heart are not exactly my specialty. But there hasn't been a single obstacle we haven't been able to overcome yet, and I'm sure that you will not be defeated by this one either."

Eebon grunted, but finally tore his eyes away from the lava pool and looked into Endrin's eyes. In the glow of the lava, her eyes looked black rather than green. "Thanks Endrin." He said. "You might be wrong, but it's good to know that you believe in me."

Endrin smiled. "Hey," She said, and the mischievous aspect of her smile returned, "You believe in me as a leader… I think it's only fair I return the favor!"

Eebon chuckled, then quickly and lightly wrapped Endrin up in a hug, releasing her just as quickly. "Thanks again." Eebon said, "You're a good friend. Almost the sister I never had."

Endrin arched an eyebrow again, although this time it was from surprise. Eebon rarely let his emotions show, other than his rage on the battlefield or annoyance with one of their companions, usually Alistair or Roaran. But for some time now, Endrin had begun to feel as if Eebon were something of a brother… an older brother to be sure… one who would not hesitate to give her the metaphorical equivalent of a good hard slap if he felt she deserved it, but just like an older brother, Eebon had demonstrated that he could be sensitive and supportive when she needed it.

"Ma serannas, emm'ashin. Emma lensil viinan."

Whenever Endrin spoke elvish it always sounded poetic to Eebon, even when she was angry, and even though he didn't have a clue what it meant. He recognized the first two words, as Endrin would usually say them several times a day.

Endrin grinned when she saw the look of confusion on Eebon's face. "I said, 'thank you, my brother. I am happy to know that.'… Sometimes it just feels good to speak in the language of my people."

"I can understand that." Eebon replied, and they turned away from the edge of the road and went back to idly walking through the commons, looking over the merchants wares with muted interest.

By the time Endrin and Eebon had returned, the raucous celebrations had indeed died down somewhat. A number of dwarves lay across the floor in various stages of drunkenness. Roaran sat on the far side of the room, still holding a mug of alcohol, and telling the story of the Proving in typical Roaran fashion… with a little bit truth, and rest wildly exaggerated. They immediately spotted Dulin at one of the tables, talking with Dharr. Dharr waved them both over.

"There you are." Dharr said when they came close enough. "We'd been wondering where you two got off to."

"I had to get out of here." Endrin answered, "I could almost hear my brain rattling around inside my skull."

Both dwarves chuckled before Dulin said, "If you are ready now, I will take you to my lord, Harrowmont."

Endrin nodded. "I'm ready… Is everyone else in sober enough condition?"

Dharr chuckled again and answered. "Yes. Kylae and Tylis are a bit more drunk than I'd like, but not too bad. Roaran must have had close to three gallons of ale, but he can still walk an almost straight line. I'll gather them all together and we can head out."

Dulin led the way back to the Diamond Quarter, the Wardens and their other companions behind him, Rica coming as well. Roaran was humming a tune that no one else recognized and would occasionally misstep and nearly trip. It was hard to tell whether it was from the alcohol he'd consumed or his strenuous exertions during the day. Tylis on the other hand was obviously drunk, and while he managed to keep following the group and keep moving in the right direction, he more than once had to lean on Eebon or Alistair to keep from falling. It was an interesting sight to see them all traveling through the city.

"So… let me get this straight." Alistair said as he tapped Dharr on the shoulder. "Dwarves live underground… but the farther underground they live the poorer they are?" He motioned with a thumb over his shoulder back down the stairs. "The commons are down there. The casteless live below that. And up there is the Diamond Quarter where all the nobles and the rich live?"

"Yes." Dharr nodded.

"So the ones who live closest to the surface are generally the best off? But the ones on the surface itself are not even considered citizens of the kingdom, right?"

Dharr nodded again.

Alistair shrugged. "That just seems strange to me."

"Don't even get me started on everything about you humans that seems strange to me." Dharr mumbled.

"Can I ask another question?" Alistair asked.

"If I said no would it dissuade you?"

Alistair chuckled, "Not really… What happened to the dwarven language? I don't know much about your people, but I do know that at one time you had your own language, but I've never heard anyone speak it. Why is that?"

Dharr slowed his pace marginally and looked up at Alistair just as they finished climbing up the stairs and entered the Diamond Quarter itself. "Now that actually is a good question, and I really don't have an answer to it. Thousands of years ago when the dwarves first emerged from underground and began exploring the surface, humans, elves, and the Dwarva all spoke different languages. We dwarves developed the language we are speaking now at first as a trade language, because it's a simple language and relatively easy to learn, and then over the centuries we began to use our native tongue less and less. If you scoured through the Shaperate then you would almost certainly find a few books detailing our ancient language."

Endrin had been walking silently behind Dharr and Alistair, but now asked, "What's the Shaperate?"

"The very heart of our society!" Dharr said proudly. "In simplest terms, it's a library, but calling it that is more of an insult than anything else. The Shapers, are our judges, teachers, scholars, scribes, and so forth. They record everything that happens to the dwarves, and nearly everything that happens in this city and to our race as a whole."

"Maybe I'll go there myself." Endrin said. "I'm curious whether I'm the first Dalish to see Orzammar or not. And who knows… if your histories trace back that far, then maybe they have some information or history about the Elvhen or Arlathan."

Dharr nodded again. "As a Grey Warden, you would be more than welcome to visit the Shaperate at any time… And if I know Lord Shaper Czibor, he would be happy to help you. That man always did love his lectures."

By that time the group had reached the front steps of Lord Harrowmont's estate. Dulin pulled the door open and motioned for them to enter. Dharr however stopped before he entered the grand looking building that was almost a palace in itself, and looked out over the Diamond Quarter, and further down, Orzammar itself. It was good to be back, even if he was nothing more than an exile lucky enough to have been accepted into the Grey Wardens. On the surface, he'd always felt like a stranger, at least here in Orzammar he had grasp of what was going on beyond, 'kill the darkspawn and renew the treaties.'

Just as he turned to enter the lavish home, a small group of women caught his eye across the street from Harrowmont's estate. The S-curve tattoo under their eyes marked them as casteless. Noble Hunters. Dharr thought to himself. Most of the nobles, particularly the men, looked favorably on the noble hunters, as it wasn't uncommon for said noble to take multiple lovers, even if he was married. Dharr himself had never given them much thought, his calling was as a warrior, and his place was on the battlefield, not in the palace or the assembly. Although there had been one-

"My Lord Aeducan returns." A sultry voice called from the small group of women.

Dharr went rigid, freezing in mid-stride while only half-way through the door. He slowly turned to see that one of the noble hunters had separated herself from the group. He remembered her. Her blue eyes and blond hair, which were both rare for a dwarf, silken voice that sounded most natural when it was laughing. He remembered her full lips, ample curves, and her delicate demeanor. "Mardy…" Dharr said her name but could not find any other words.

"So you do remember me." Mardy said.

Dharr nodded, coming down from the steps, they met to one side of the stairs, Roaran and the others now looking down from the doorway. "I remember." Dharr said, "Although I do find myself surprised that you would remember me."

"Do you remember the day we met? Or the night of passion that we shared? Because I will never forget either! Nor will I forget the son that you left me when you disappeared into the Deep Roads!"

You know... every time I read through this chapter I think to myself that maybe I should have made Endrin and Eebon a couple. Well... too late for that now! On that note however, I have a challenge for you all. I want someone to write a story with a Cousland and Mahariel pairing. I've checked already, and unless I overlooked something, I don't think there is one of those on here. Let me know if you're up to it, I offer to betaread, and co-write if need be.

Okay, got that out of the way. I'd actually forgotten about Cailan's letters up until I started writing this chapter, and the subject of them will definitely come up again, but I'm just not sure of how and when that will be.