Thanks to : Malymin, who is my beta blanket and stew when I get lost in the Deep Roads of the english grammar.

Chapter 29: Decisions

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Her awareness returned in layers, accompanied by a sense of being oddly sheltered and comfortable.

Within her still hazed and drowsy mind, Lenya tried to figure out what was causing this treacherous, wrong feeling. Ostensibly, she was lying on something that was rigid yet warm, and her nose perceived a distinguishable scent, around her that wasn't her own.

Willing her mind to finally shake off sleep, the elf dared first to open one eye, then the other. Lenya ponderously heaved her head a bit up to take in the surroundings and gazed right into the still sleeping face of her fellow Warden. Instantly, her eyes widened with shock and she jolted up and right out of the bed, her heart racing.

WHAT THE – ?

Involuntarily, she looked down at herself and ascertained to her great relief that she was still fully clothed, but her mind was racing. Why but why had she been sleeping with a human in one bed, on his chest, no less? A shudder of disgust rippled through her and she suppressed the urge to puke as she swallowed, her mouth sticky with a stale, atrocious taste. At that, her mind clicked and brought the previously forgotten memory back to her consciousness.

Right, I drank alcohol. And a lot of it. With him.

Her head was thrumming madly and only confirmed the suspicion. "Great, just great." Lenya rolled her eyes and winced, as her body responded with a fierce jolt of pain. Slowly she straightened herself up to sneak to the door without waking that idiot up. That proved to be a difficult task with every muscle in her body aching. Alas, before the Dalish could reach the door, the huge figure on the bed reared. "Argh, my heeead," Alistair groaned and discerned her frame in the semi-dark. "Lenya? What are you doing here?"

Oh huge Halla crap.

The Dalish froze right on the spot, but the shock was quickly traded for irritability.

"You ask me that? Really?" she growled, ignoring the pain even speaking caused her.

He sorted through his thoughts of yesterday, which were still hazed a lot.

"A-are you feeling better now?" was the first best thing that came to his mind.

Way to go, Alistair.

Her only answer was an angry scoff, as she turned to go.

"Maybe, you shouldn't have drank so much." His tone was sheepish and his throat felt rough as he spoke. She responded with a fierce slamming of the door after she left, which resounded as multifaceted pain in his head. And me neither, he added in mind and wondered why his chest felt so comfortably warm.

He blushed deeply, as he remembered.

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Right after leaving Alistair's room, Arai trotted up to his mistress and whined reproachfully.

He prompted her to place a comforting hand on his head, which she did. "I know, Arai. I'm sorry for leaving you behind. Have you waited here all night?"

She couldn't remember if her dog had been followed after them when they left Tapsters. If she was honest, she couldn't remember on anything too well.

Thinking hurt, moving hurt, light hurt.

For the first time since their arrival, Lenya was actually glad that the only light that illuminated the room was the soft smoldering from the hearths and glowstones on the wall. In the bright light of the day, her head surely would have exploded at once.

"Some friend, I am, huh?" The mabari made a dog-like huff and nudged his wet nose under her palm. "I'm sorry. I'm still not used to domesticated animals follow me around. The ones I have known before were all...free."

Arai slanted his head and whined, as if disapproving. He pawed at her thigh and barked quietly. Lenya gave in and slowly bowed down to him, embracing his massive neck. "But maybe we aren't that different. I can feel the taint in you, you know how hard that is, right?"

His answer was a slobbering lick with his tongue over her cheek. "And maybe I'm also nothing more than a domesticated animal anymore, that once was free."

Arai growled this time, the sound rolling as a low but assertive tone from his throat. His soulful, dark eyes peered up to her, as if he wanted to say 'but I have chosen to be with you' with just the way he looked at her. And after a moment she seemed to understand.

"Thank you, Arai."

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~V~

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"Warden."

Lenya started up at the voice behind her and flinched, as the impulsive motion ached her very being.

Right, that's it. No more alcohol. Ever.

Maybe muting the voices wasn't the only reason she went overboard with that. Perhaps she just wanted to feel so careless and free again for once, before her life became the oppressing mess it was now. An exasperated grumble snapped her out of her reverie and the Dalish turned to face the still waiting Qunari. "Sten."

He made a disgruntled noise at her sight. "You look awful... and you reek."

Lenya chose to revert to sarcasm.

"Why, thank you. Must be the dog-spit, I guess." After saying it, she ruffled Arai's ear in an apologetic 'I-don't mean it like that'- way and the mabari stayed quiet.

"Alcohol, more likely. Your behavior is not acceptable."

She arched an eyebrow, tone equally sarcastic. "Oh? And what should I do to make it appropriate?"

"Kill the archdemon."

"I approve of this idea." Lenya said and pinched the bridge of her nose. "But as you might have noticed, Sten, this isn't so easy as it seems."

"So behaving like a fool is easier? You are a Grey Warden, are you not?"

"Yes, but this was not by choice."

He looked at her with a stern expression. "Why are you here then?"

Her eyes shot up to him, utterly surprised. This question hit the elf thoroughly unprepared.

"I–I..." she swallowed and her head hammered as she searched for an answer underneath the layers of pain and haze only to realize a few moments later that she hadn't a proper one.

"To fight. To survive," Lenya finally managed to say, though it was more for the need to say something than a real reason.

"And still you hesitate," the Qunari stated evenly.

"The Deep Roads –" The Dalish halted and sighed. It would make little sense to explain it to him. He wouldn't understand it like - Lenya frowned at the mere thought of that human and subsequently shook herself in the need to dispose of the memory of his odd warmth from her mind. At least the following pain of headache put her back on focus, and Sten.

"I don't have to justify my actions to you," Lenya finally added, putting her chin defiantly up to glare at him.

"Maybe," he answered, unimpressed. "But if you fail you will have to justify it to others. And even if you succeed it will be just by sheer chance, anyway. You are a Grey Warden, yet you know little of your own order; nor do you know yourself or what you are here for. Parshaara."

With that he turned and left her behind, dumbfounded.

It took a moment until the almost forgotten feeling of pride kicked it, creeping its way from underneath back into her consciousness. The fist balled, she stared into the long hallway where Sten vanished.

"I know who I am. I'm a Dalish." And with muttering that, she became aware of what she had to do, even if she didn't want to. She was a Dalish and would never simply give up like that.

Her pride wouldn't allow it.

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"I hope you don't mind that I'm like that coming in like this."

Arai shot up and growled at Nithius, who justly entered her room without to await her answer.

"Actually, I do. And my dog does as well." Lenya casually uttered, without looking up. Various papers and books were sprawled around her on the floor, with her sitting in the middle of the chaos she created. "What?" she added as he still didn't turn to go.

"I hoped to..." his eyes flickered nervously to Arai who still was snarling at him, his massive form protective in front of his mistress "...speak with you. It's important."

"Uh-huh." She was not even particularly interested in another talk, especially not with someone who simply barged into her room. The last one who did that saw her – ugh. Lenya made a face, irked. That was the sort of reminder she really didn't need. It only added to her foul mood.

"You are venturing into the Deep Roads soon, I heard?" The elf mage asked, a bit unsure, driving a hand through his cropped, raven hair. "Errm, could you call your hound off? He is making me nervous, you know."

"Good. He would be offended if you weren't."

The Mabari barked in agreement, glancing proudly over to the elf, who had changed her dirty and ragged leather armor for a casual set of dark linen. If it weren't for the soft light adjusted just bright enough for reading, she would have melted completely within the shadows.

"Not so loud, Arai," she chided him softly, her hand reaching for the side of her forehead, groaning. The dog whined quietly in return and pawed at her, momentarily forgetting about the intruder.

"Rough night, huh?" Instantly at the sound of his voice, Arai flexed his massive muscles again, as he turned and growled to keep the foreign person at the same huge distance.

Lenya was still rubbing her temples, her eyes burned from reading. Although she hadn't been doing that for long now. "Huh?"

Nithius smirked, his pale blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, nothing. Just a night of drinking, so I heard. Singing from the top of your lungs and frightening noble passersby, that kind of thing. With the other Warden." He lifted an eyebrow. "You two seem to be close."

Lenya's breath stopped at that. She looked up to him and had to suppress the wish to throw the book within her lap into his head, just to wipe that irritating smirk out of his face. Or let Arai eat him for breakfast.

Food, her face contorted, all but that. Suddenly she felt very ill and there was yet another urge to suppress.

"Got a bit of a hangover, huh? Let me help you," he uttered softly and with a wave of his hand a glimmering blue light enveloped her being, making her sigh in relief. Unfortunately, Arai saw that as an attack on his mistress, so the dog leaped forward to bury the mage's lithe form under him, snarling vigorously.

The Dalish got up in one fluent movement and was for a second amazed how everything did NOT hurt anymore. Ironically, quite the opposite was the case for her unwanted guest.

"Ouch," was all that was to hear from the elf, buried under Arai's sinewy body.

"Arai, back off," she commanded and her Mabari obeyed immediately. As he trotted back to her side he glanced over to the mage, still not trusting him fully. "It is okay, boy," she reassured him with a pat on his head and the dog huffed critically. Then she turned to the mage who lay on the ground, panting and shell shock in fear. "He's quite protective, you know? Sudden magic makes him nervous."

Lenya shrugged and reached him a hand to help him to get up.

"Good to know," Nithius shuddered as he got up, wiping the dust from his dark blue mage robe. "Such a hound would surely come in handy when the Templars are on my trail again." He sighed. "Can we speak now? I think you own me at least that much, Warden."

"Lenya."

He blinked. "What?"

"My name is Lenya. Everyone calls me Warden here, Warden there. I truly don't need to get a constant reminder of what I am, so use my name, for Creators sake." Lenya sat down on a chair in front of the desk and Arai lay down aside of her feet. "So you wanted something, right?"

"Yes, Wa-Lenya. You are venturing into the Deep Roads soon, right?"

She sighed. "It appears that there is no other way than this, so yes. Why are you asking, Nithius?"

"Take me with you."

"Why? She asked, flabbergasted. "Have you a death wish, or something?"

The mage chuckled. "As well as you then, huh? But no, not really. I just want to help. I want to become a Grey Warden."

"As much I appreciate the first sentiment, you are clearly insane for the second one."

Nithius knitted his brows. "But you are a Grey Warden as well. You don't like it?"

That comment caused her to laugh out loud, but its sound was cold and mirthless. "Oh, I'm sure there is certainly nothing wrong with sharing the same blood with those rotten creatures I kill." She looked him in the eyes, making sure he understood. "I'm tainted. Just like them. You want that kind of life? You got to be kidding me."

He sat down on a small footstool near her and shrugged, his mage robe rustling at this movement. "Better than to run away all your life, like I was forced to do."

"I would be glad to have this option right now," Lenya mumbled, more to herself, yet he caught it.

"You disappeared yesterday and yet you came back. So you had this option, but decided against it."

"Seems like I have a death wish as well, then," the Dalish scoffed, shaking her head. "But as you might have noticed 'we' – that includes me and that dimwitted human who happens to be my only fellow Warden– aren't actually recruiting right now. Not while we are too busy focusing on survi – " he silenced her with holding his hand up.

"It might sound crazy to you, yes, but I for myself, am tired of running away. And as much I enjoy the safe shelter the dwarves gave me as an apostate in Orzammar, this," he made a sweeping gesture within the stony room, "... is not a life for an elf. I have lived too long in the forest for that. I want to see the sky again, the sun. Smell the scent of grass again and all those little things I miss so much being constantly under all this stone."

"Yeah, then are the Deep Roads the most logical step, of course..." Lenya muttered and averted her eyes. Despite her words, she understood what he meant. Maybe even better than she wanted.

"Touchè, I would say, my lady," he laughed. "See it as a test to prove myself worthy. I know that when I'm travelling with you that the Templars and the Chantry can't touch me anymore. Being conscripted by a Grey Warden would give me that kind of immunity."

"What you don't say..." Lenya rolled her eyes and sighed annoyed. "I was conscripted myself, actually. So you had planned it all along, huh? Charming."

"No, it's rather a fortunate coincidence. Also," he winked at her, "I'm quite useful. I'm an adept healer, as you already know. I have dabbled in the old magic of your people as I lived with a Dalish clan for a couple of years. You know Zathrian, the keeper of the Alvaran clan, perhaps?"

"Not personally, but that name rings a bell. Our...clan has traded often with them, though. And at the last Arlathvhen I was too young to really remember much. Or better said it was much more interesting for me to play tricks on our guests with my frien – " she stopped and frowned. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"I see," he murmured, rather perplexed by her sudden mood change. "So what do you say?"

She shrugged. If that fool wanted to risk his life, why shouldn't she profit from it? "You are aware of the severe darkspawn corruption down there? I'm immune but you –"

"Yes, I know, but there exist potions to hold it off for a while. I could make some and not only for myself. Provided Harrowmont gives me the needed and enough ingredients for it, of course."

"He will." Lenya nodded. "After all that durgen'len wants something from me. Just one condition about them. I want you to show Morrigan – the mage in our group – how to make the potions, while you make them."

Nithius arched an eyebrow. "Still don't trust me, huh? Well okay for me, if that soothes your mind."

"Nothing personal." Lenya heaved her shoulders. "So since there are a couple of things to do beforehand, it will take a while until our departure. Yet it's better when you stay nearby."

"Ma nuvenin, Lenya. Ir ma serannas," the elf exclaimed in joy and smiled.

Upon hearing those words, the Dalish closed her eyes and did not answer until he left. The melancholic feeling of its sound was just too strong, overwhelming her. As the door clicked and she was alone again, she uttered. "Na'nehn" but asked herself at the same time if taking him with her had been a good idea just now.

Lenya had her doubts.

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The tone in her voice was indifferent and mirthless.

"Okay, I'll do it."

Alistair was surprised to hear that she wanted him and the rest of their companions to gather in Harrowmont's study after supper. Yet nothing came close to the surprise he felt upon hearing those words from her lips. Lenya had been reluctant about Harrowmont's idea from the start and it baffled him now that she had changed her mind.

The Dwarven lord, however, seemed to be most pleased about it. "I'm most glad to hear that, Warden. And be certain that I will do my best to ensure that you have all the equipment needed to secure the success of this dangerous mission."

"Good," Lenya breathed, bringing forth a long piece of parchment. "This brings me to my conditions."

"C-conditions?" Harrowmont repeated and blinked, rather confused.

Oh Lenya. Typical. Alistair had to suppress a grin. Somehow he had surmised that there was a catch to her sudden willingness.

The Dalish let out a small sound of annoyance, drumming her fingers against the paper. "Yeeees, coooonditiiiions," she echoed slowly, as if he was dumb. "I'm the one going down there in this darkspawn invested shit-hole, while you are sitting with your ass in your nice, cozy study. You are waiting for me to do the dirty work you and your men are too stupid to do, so that you can become king in the end." Lenya closed her speech with a sweet smile, peering innocently at the flabbergasted dwarf.

Behind the elf, Morrigan burst into a laughter. As Leliana threw her an irritated glance for that, the witch only shrugged. "What? 'Tis true, after all."

"So now It is blackmailing midgets rather than the other way around? Fun," Shale stated and added after a second more excitedly. "Do we crush its head if It not agrees to it?"

"No!" Alistair exclaimed and all pair of eyes darted to him. He cleared his throat. "I mean we neither blackmail someone, nor do we crush their heads."

"Boring clown-knight," Shale grumbled and turned to leave for the main hall. For the golem the discussion was over, since Alistair killed all the entertaining possibilities.

"I must advise you to rethink your tone in front of me, Warden," the dwarven lord exhorted her after overcoming his state of shock.

"I can't remember being impolite, Harrowmont. I was just stating the obvious," Lenya replied calmly. "You want me to go down into the Deep Roads to find your paragon to support you for the throne. One that is most likely dead by now. So the least thing I can expect then, is that you are fulfilling my conditions for our support."

Alistair watched the scene with a mixture of fascination and horror. Maker, that woman was even scarier when she was all composed...and logical.

"Don't let us forget that you gain something out of it as well, Warden," Harrowmont objected.

"What?" She tilted her head, "Do you speak of the troops Orzammar is obliged to give to the Grey Wardens in a time of a Blight?"

The dwarven lord pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, knowing he had lost this argument. "Alright what are your conditions then?"

Lenya looked smug. "Oh, it is all written down here. Only the little things, though." She handed Harrowmont the long list of supplies. "Furthermore I want for each of my companions, new armor and weapons, as well as for myself. That's all."

Harrowmont's mouth stood agape for a moment and he blinked before finally regaining his composure. "Don't you think this is asked a bit too much, Warden?"

"In exchange for risking my life?" She paused to think. "No, not at all, actually. Also haven't you promised me the best equipment before, or have you not?"

Oh, fun. Alistair's attempt to hide his smirk behind his hand was all but subtle. "I assure you we will do our best to find Branka then, my Lord," he added.

The dwarf caved in to them. "Okay, so be it. I'll call your companions for the armor fitting then. Is there anything else?"

"Yes. I have a question, actually." The Dalish took a long breath and Harrowmont winced, afraid of what would come next. "The people down there in Dust Town, I have been wondering...why do they have to live like that? After all, they are durgen'len just like anyone el – "

"They are not!" He interjected strongly. "They are casteless. They are a worthless bunch of scum, without the ambition or the ability to improve..."

"I see." Lenya maintained a straight face, but Alistair noticed how her body tensed at those words. How her fists clenched and unclenched on her side. He wasn't with her in Dust Town on that day, and knew next to nothing about it, but seemingly it had become a touchy topic for his fellow Warden. He couldn't help to wonder why.

"I will take my leave then," she pressed forth through gritted teeth and immediately turned to go.

Elvish notes:

Ir ma serranas - Thank you very much.

Ma nuvenin - As you wish/ very well.

Na'nehn- You are welcome.