A/N: This is my first story of the New Year! Happy 2016 everyone! It is my take on a classic fairy tale with a Dragon Age twist. I hope you all like it

The Seven Dwarves

Ferelden: The King's Road. 9:29 Dragon Age

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!"

Thur raised his sword over his head as he dropped into a fighting crouch, all around him the rest of their party formed up attempting to build a defensive square around their wagons. Aradun had tried to teach his nephews the warrior disciplines, they might have been born on the surface but they still had warrior caste in their blood. The other two might not have been fighters, but even they understood what was at stake. This scum meant to kill them, and would if they did not fight back. So, they would stand their ground, and fight with all they could muster.

The dwarven trader pursed his lips.

He was no fool.

He knew it would not be enough.

Three days out from Lothering, and they had fallen under attack. Again. It had become a way of life; their business here had been threatened for months. They could have sold their claim long ago, but Thur would not here of it. He was not man who backed down to threats.

That did not mean that his enemies had stopped trying, he had lost many employees in the previous attacks, now it was just him, and six of his most trusted friends and kin.

This time, there would be no mercy.

This time…the enemy would go in for the kill.

This was the fourth time in as many months. Not the same gang, nor the same location, but…

The dwarf shook his head.

It was not hard to guess who was behind this.

Aradun barked orders to others. The white haired dwarf had been a warrior once, long ago, back before he had first came to the surface. They had been business partners for about six months, and before that he had worked closely with Thur's father. They had known each other for years. When the old man had first been banished, it was Thur's Father that had taken him and his kin in, gave them a chance to find a life here on the surface. Aradun had been just security back then, but he had more than proven his worth since Thur had taken over, which is why he had decided to make the old warrior his full partner.

Now…it seemed that their partnership was about to be cut short, most unfortunate.

The old man did what he could to rally the others, including his three nephews, both Garrim and Hagrim raised their bows, the latter was only barely proficient with such a weapon, but sometimes threat was all that was needed. Wendel jabbed with his long spear, discouraging any of the bastards attacking them from getting any ideas.

Chun held his ax in a two handed grip, the healer wasn't the best fighter, but he had the look of a fighter about him, especially with the scars on his face. Even Barab looked ready to fight, his face as red his beard. He shouted challenges while raising a wicked looking meat cleaver, swinging it like a savage over his head.

He might have only been a cook, but he looked plenty menacing.

Still, Thur was not kidding himself.

They still had no chance in this fight.

He could not get an exact count of the bandits, they were sticking to the trees and moving too fast, but it was clear that they were at least twenty or thirty strong. Seven dwarven warriors might have had a chance with those odds, alas; Thur's men were not warriors, not all of them anyway.

The dwarven trader shook his head. They had known this route was dangerous, and they had known that they were being watched, but…they had had few options.

If they failed in this run, it would like be the end of Thurimar's Independent trading company…

…Which, of course, was the whole point.

Thur's hands curled into angry fists.

That nughumper Goin was finally going to get what he wanted.

Once Goin had been a member of House Ivo, he had fled Orzammar years earlier when his connections to a Carta Clan had been revealed, he had fled just ahead of the city guard, likely escaping imprisonment in the mines or a quick death as a member of the Legion of the Dead. He maintained his Carta connections despite his flight, and had used their operations up here to build himself into a merchant lord of sorts.

Goin had never tried to act against them while Father was alive. Father's contacts had always been just a bit better than the old deepstalkers, and at the time the Carta had not had the coin to throw behind their ally. It had given Thur's father a chance to thrive.

The old man's death had changed all that.

Goin must have been working for years to bribe or threaten their old contacts into coming to work for him. In the last six months, three of their allies had had fatal accidents or chosen to flee to the Free Marches. In their absence, the Carta had placed people more…willing to do business with them in those places. As a result, the former noble from House Ivo now had just what he needed to be the great lord he had always wanted to be again.

It was only then that he turned his attention to his old rivals

It was only then that he had tried to buy up Thur's company.

The dwarven trader had refused to sell, and now…here they all were…

…About to get their blood spilled.

Thur snarled in fury.

One thing was for certain, if they were going to die, he would make damn sure that he took at least some of these sodding nughumpers with him.

In was then that a cry went up from the woods, the arrows that had been harassing the dwarves ceased.

Thirty men charged out of the underbrush. Most were human or elven, but a few dwarves could be seen as well.

Thur's eyes narrowed.

Ancestors guide our blades.

Two of Garrim's arrows found their mark, sending two of the attackers tumbling to the ground. A fresh volley from the bandits stopped the young dwarf from taking any more of their number.

Barab's panicked cry from the other side of the wagon alerted the others that a second group of bandits were charging from the other side, a smaller group this, maybe only ten men, but it would be more than enough when the groups met in the middle.

The traders were surrounded.

An overly ambitious human came in too quick for his fellow raiders to back him up. Wendell managed to impale him with his polearm, the human cried out until Aradun took his head with his sword.

The sight made the bandits hesitate slightly, not long just for a moment.

As it turned out, it was just enough.

Fire rained down from the heavens.

At first Thur had been terrified, Goin had found a mage somewhere! He meant to burn them all alive!

Then he got a good look at where the fire was directed…and then he smiled.

The fireballs were falling on the bandits, and their battle cries ceased as panic spread through their ranks. When they tried to reform a fireball flew out of bushes behind them, further destabilizing their ranks.

This was not what the bandits had signed up for; this was clearly not what Goin had promised them.

The bulk of the raiders scattered.

The ten who had tried to flank them now found themselves charging alone. Thur and Aradun rallied their small band; the seven met their attackers' blade upon blade.

Those ten men died rather quickly.

An elven archer, one of the thirty who had not scattered, attempted to turn things back in the bandits' favor. He shot once wounding Garrim, and had just started to draw on Thur when magic intervened yet again.

A blast of white light struck the elf, he gasped his last breath as an intense cold turned him into a frozen statue for all to see.

Thur roared as she charge, his blade striking the frozen bandit across the shoulder.

The man shattered like glass.

Two more quick fireballs ended the fight, sending the remaining bandits scampering back to their holes. Thur did not look away until the last of the attackers had fled. Only until he was sure that his friends and kin were safe.

Only then did he turn to see to the wounded, and only then did their rescuer emerge.

The dwarven traders were surprised.

A single cloaked figure emerged, wielding an old birch core staff.

Thur blinked.

One person had done this?

Ancestors preserve them.

He was not sure what to make of all this. Mages were an unknown outside of their gilded towers. Orzammar sold them lyrium of course, but that was only through Chantry contacts. As far as he knew the Circle kept all the mages caged for the most part, kept them all locked away, so that they could cause no mischief.

To find one…travelling outside the circle, travelling alone.

That was an unusual sight indeed.

Thur frowned.

A criminal then, a blood mage perhaps…

Still…why would a maleficar help save a company of dwarves?

It didn't make sense.

Aradun stepped up beside him; the old man wiped away the blood on his face. His smile had become pleasant, a merchant's smile, as he sheathed his sword. Thur gave him a dirty look, what if the mage was still a threat? He would meet that threat unarmed.

The old man chuckled, perhaps reading his emotions from the look on his face.

"Trust me laddie," he said, "If this one wanted us dead, we would be already."

Thur pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Now was not a time to argue.

Now was the time to present a united front.

"Good evening," their rescuer called out. Thur blinked again, the highness of the voice suggested either a young boy, or perhaps a woman.

Yet another unexpected turn it seemed.

"Evening, Lass," Aradun called out, "I take it you are not looking to cook anymore dwarves this fine eve, eh?"

The mage chuckled; it was a gentle sound a pleasant sound.

Still that did not change what they had seen, what she had just done.

That made her a threat.

She stopped just short of the range of their swords.

A wise move, Thur thought to himself.

Clearly this one is no fool.

"I hadn't plan on anymore cooking tonight," she replied merrily, "Not dwarf anyway."

It was then that Thur stepped forward, it was all well and good to have Aradun introduce himself, but Thur was still in charge.

Whatever…this was…it fell to him to keep it from getting out of hand.

That was what being in charge meant.

"May we ask what brings you out this far?" he inquired, "Are you on your way to Lothering?"

The mage leaned heavily against her staff; only now that she was out in the open did Thur notice that she was shaking.

Using her magic had clearly taken its toll.

"I was on my way out of Lothering actually," she said conversationally, "It was nice there but it is time to move on. Too many Templars for my taste."

Thur's eyes narrowed.

"Is anyone chasing you?"

The mage's back stiffened, her body coiled, she slightly lowered her staff, readying it for battle.

"Maybe," she said softly.

Thur gripped his sword tighter. They did not have time for this now. If the chantry were after the girl…?

For a moment, the air was pregnant with menace, mage and dwarf faced each other.

Once again, the old warrior defused the situation.

"Chantry business is not ours girl," Aradun called out, "Trade is our affair, and right now we still have our goods because of you."

The old warrior smiled slightly.

"That has earned you a small reward at least.

Thur almost shouted at his partner, once again the old man had taken responsibility when he shouldn't have.

They had lost much in the last few months. Getting involved with a rogue mage was the last thing they needed.

Still, Aradun had a point.

The girl had saved them.

Honor demanded that they at least thank her for it.

Again the mage seemed to relax, once again leaning against her staff.

"You don't have anything to eat, do you?" she asked.

"Dried fair mostly," Thur replied, "But if you wish something more…filling, there is a small clearing about an hour's walk from here. Barab's a decent cook if you don't mind waiting.

The girl licked her lips, or at least he though she did, it was difficult to see under that hood. What he could make out was her clothes, white blouse, and a splintmail vest over leather breaches, clothes more fitting for a farmer's daughter than a runaway outlaw mage…

…But then again, what would an outlaw mage wear, Tevinter battle robes?

Thur shook his head.

That wouldn't have drawn any attention would it?

It might have been his imagination, but he thought he could hear the girl's stomach growling from here.

Starving then, he realized, not surprising if the girl was on the run.

From what he could tell, the girl had no pack, not unless she had ensorcelled it to not be apparent to strangers.

Thur's eyes narrowed again.

She has not been at this very long. She had to flee Lothering in a hurry. She had no supplies, and likely would have not made it much farther if she hadn't bumped into them.

The trader pursed his lips.

Perhaps their lives were not the only ones who had been saved this night.

Perhaps the girl had needed them too.

Yet, still the mage considered his offer, not that he blamed her.

A mage did not stay free long if they were not careful, or so he had been told.

Finally, the mage sighed.

"I won't stay long," she promised, "My problems are not yours, but…if you are willing to share you hospitality for the night…?"

Thur crossed his arms across his chest and bowed slightly.

One meal, and then they would be done.

It was the least they could do.

Honor demanded it.

"You are welcome to it, Milady," he said, "It is the least we can do for someone who saved our business."

The mage nodded and approached, Aradun gestured and the others put their weapons away. None had been threatening the girl, but…

After the bandits, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Thur was still not sure about this.

Letting a mage into their camp…and if she was being chased?

His brow furrowed.

He had no desire to make her enemies their enemies.

They had enough of their own as it was.

The dwarf shook his head.

Enemies were bad for business.

IOI

"You are welcome to it, Milady. It is the least we can do for someone who saved our business."

The mage smiled slightly as she put her staff away. She sensed no duplicity in the dwarves, only a willingness to do their business, and the gratitude they felt for her helping them with those bandits.

That gratitude was good, but so would be their food.

She could not afford to turn down either right now.

She tried to keep from showing her weakness, four days without food and only a little water had taken its toll. Her shoulder still throbbed from where that bastard Harwen had shot her two days ago. She had healed the wound, but still…still…

She was clearly not at her best.

She was light headed, and likely could not manage a single fireball right now.

Yet, she had to keep going; Ser Drusilla was still out there.

She could not afford to stop for long, not now…

…Maybe…not ever.

She worried her lip with her teeth.

She had barely escaped Drusilla's mercenaries, and now…here she was…

If the Knight-Lieutenant found her among these dwarves, she would show no mercy. She had seen that much from their last encounter.

It was not an experience she was eager to repeat anytime soon.

The mage swallowed hard.

She had known Drusilla from the Lothering Chantry. Her twin brother Garrett had even been a little sweet on her for a time, she thought with a snort.

Garrett had always had bad taste in girls, tastes she had tried to curb. Drusilla was really not his type. She came from a powerful family; her father had been very wealthy. She could have married well, but faith had driven her down a different path.

…On the same path as her brother…her now late brother…

The mage shivered.

A path that was full of brimstone and righteous anger.

And now…all that anger was directed at her.

She still remembered the woman ranting, her fury brighter than the flames of a torch.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME! I WILL CUT YOUR HEART OUT FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE MURDERERESS! DO YOU HEAR ME MAGE!"

"I WILL CUT OUT YOUR HEART!"

She shook her head.

She suspected that Drusilla had not been making an idle threat.

She stood before the dwarf, and removed her hood. Two of the younger traders gasped.

The mage smiled.

She knew that men thought that she was attractive; personally she did not see it. She was too pale for starters, her black hair too unruly, which was why she wore it so short.

The leader of the party, a dwarf with a short beard, and shoulder length brown hair bowed to her.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he began, "I am Thurimar, of Thurimar's Independent Trading company."

He rose slightly.

"And we are at your service."

She bowed slightly in return.

"Marian Hawke," she replied, mimicking his gesture.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all."

A/N: Please review if you want to hear more of this tale, you know I like them!

DG