Note: An update? I know, shocking. Sadly, life got in the way and it took me a while to get back to this. For that I'm sorry, but rest assured that "Denerim's Shadow" will now be updated once each weekend. Now, a note on this chapter. I originally had four chapters written about Tabris coming to terms with her conflicting salient identities as an elven crusader and good person to all races. Clearly, that was boring. So, her acceptance of herself got smashed into the middle of this chapter. I like to think I pulled it off somewhat well, but that's for you to decide. That's all.


"I think our team's too small. I miss that qunari guy, and I never even got to meet that dwarf Alistair offended.". Duncan barks in agreement, but Leliana and Wynne both sigh as I make my way around the marketplace. Wynne is the first to point out my flaws.

"You aren't exactly the friendliest of folks. I'm sure you'd come to hate them the second they started talking.". I cackle in amusement and, playfully, shove Wynne. The old woman and I have been talking almost nonstop the entire trip around the marketplace since Leliana has been fussing over a pair of shoes she bought and Duncan isn't exactly the best conversationalist. We've both grown to know quite a bit about each other, but the most important thing I've learned is that Wynne once had an elven apprentice she got killed.

Well, she thinks she got him killed. I doubt it, and I'm certain enough I've already made a mental note to stop by the Dalish again sometime since I know every elf who escapes the Circle or cities wants to join them. However, right now I have something in mind since I'm in the marketplace. I have dragon and drake scales and I know an armorer who could probably make something out of them. Thankfully, I already know where his store is and I've successfully made my way around the market to it. Leliana finishes messing with her shoes as we all go inside the shop.

"I thought you were taking us to that maid that needed to get the queen out or something.". I shrug. It couldn't possibly be anymore important than what I'm doing right now.

"Who cares? We'll go as soon as I give the armorer these scales. Besides, the queen's not going to die anytime soon. Hopefully.". Or not hopefully. Honestly, I don't care about the queen too much. What I really care about is the man standing behind the counter. I reach into my bag, pull out all the scales I have, and place them before him.

"I have some drake and dragon scales here. Can you make anything with them?". A shriek causes everyone to jerk as a mustached man charges into the room from deeper in the building. He scoops up all of the scales while thanking me. However, he asks me an odd question.

"What kind of armor do you want?". I dig around in my pocket, hand the armorer twenty golden coins, and tell him.

"The finest, heaviest armor you can possibly make.". The armorer rushes off while his partner just shakes his head and motions for me to leave. Odd, but understandable. I lead everyone outside and make sure we're ready to go.

"Anyone want to hang around for any reason in particular?". Everyone mumbles besides Duncan who doesn't respond at all.

"Alright, let's go find and save the queen. Hopefully, that'll mean something and she'll make it worth our while.". Nobody responds as I begin leading us to where the maid told us to go to save the trapped queen is. I know these backwoods streets better than the back of my hand since elves weren't allowed to use the normal paths like humans. Once again, a sting in the back of my head bothers me.

I should still be killing shem. Not fucking one and palling around with the others.

I've spent most of my time with Leliana desperately trying to get used to the fact I might not be the elf I was raised to be. Each time I think I'm accepting the fact I'm not the woman I thought/wanted to be something will happen that makes me want to be that woman again. Right now it's the realization I'm once again in Denerim with four shem and a dog as my only allies.

A tightness in my chest forms and I wish with all my heart I hadn't killed that elf, sent that qunari away, or let Alistair scare the dwarf away. Now I'm the only damned minority in a group full of my oppressors. The tightness in my chest hardens enough I actually begin digging underneath my armor in an attempt to massage it out. It doesn't work and my breathing begins to pick up. A burning desire deep in my gut reforms to be the woman I once was. Obviously, with some exceptions. I'm not going to harm Leliana, Wynne, or Morrigan. That's because I love her, I need her, and she needs me respectively.

The tightness doesn't go away.

Being on the road for so long has been nicer than I ever could have thought. It's let me get away from humans who would chain me. A shem isn't likely to insult and ridicule me if they need me, and the ones that want to oppress me at least won't say it aloud for fear of revenge sworn on them by a Grey Warden. I've gotten to learn about the humans I'm traveling with and make new friends.

I've gotten to forget what it's like to be an elf. I've forgotten what it's like to live in the slums of Denerim and have every human here look at me like I'm shit.

Even now humans we walk by are glaring at me for the sheer gal of me to walk in the same city they inhabit. The tightness doesn't go away, but I pull my hand from my armor. I've talked to Leliana about this so, so many times. About my yearning to be the elf I left Denerim as. To go back to being the terrifying monster my family saw me as. My vision begins to blur as I come to terms with how far I've strayed from what I once was. I want to get back to my roots. I want to become an elf again. Slowly, the tightness begins leaving my chest as I make a promise to myself.

I can't be the woman I once was, but I'll try. I'll go back to putting elves before humans and standing up for those who're oppressed in the cities and wilds of the world the humans claim is theirs. Hell, if I can I'll find it in myself to kill as many humans that want to chain elves as I can. I just can't be a raging, murderous monster like I once was. The woman would get put down like a rabid dog in the world outside of my alienage. Still, I can be clever about it just like the shem are. I can use subtle tactics to fuck the humans over while putting the elves above them. It's not how I want to bring about change, but it'll have to do. I'm a damned hypocrite, though.

Fucking Leliana and palling around with Morrigan and Wynne aren't things a woman like me should do. However, I'm still going to do them. All kings and queens have lovers or secrets they're keeping from the public eye. I'll become like the champion of elves like Shartan was so long ago. Besides, I'm sure elves like Shartan were hiding things from their fellows elves.

The tightness in my chest is completely gone.

Coming back to this city has done something good to me. It's reminded me who the fuck I am. I'm not a damned human, I'm an elf. Nothing will change that. Not status, not blood, not marriage. Even now the shem are still glaring as I lead my team by them. Humans in the filthiest, most crime-ridden slums still put themselves above me. So, why can't I put myself above them? I hold my head a little higher as I walk. I can't share this with anyone, but I'm still proud of myself for who I am. And, who I am is ultimately an elf.

I'll remember it this time. I can't forget. I can't let shem take away who I am.

A shem touches my shoulder as we near the castle I was told to come to. I turn in a fright and see the face of the shem I love. The face of the shem who I love holding me down and fucking into me without any thought of me as anything other than a warm hole to pound. I smile at Leliana as my love speaks.

"Are you ready to save the queen, or do you want more time to prepare?". I nod. I'm ready to go save the shem queen because some other shem wants her saved so we can overthrow some other shem and put a shem we want on the shem throne. My gut rolls, but there's nothing I can do. The shem still rule this land, and if I want their help I have to play by their rules. The endgame will just have to be looking out for elves. I turn and begin searching for the maid. I find her and begin walking towards her. As I walk, I try to rationalize my new self.

I'm not doing anything wrong or cruel. I'm just watching out for my race and taking out years of oppression on those who'd see us still wearing chains. It's like the elven version of what the humans do by keeping elves in the alienages.

My consciousness is satisfied with the merging of the kinder woman I've become underneath Leliana and the crueler woman I once was when I walked Denerim alone not two years ago. I think over it and realize I'm happy with myself. It's taken a return to my roots to satisfy the growth of myself both emotionally and mentally, but now it's done. And, now I have a world to save. Like it or not, I'm still a Grey Warden. Granted, the "Grey Warden" part of me comes after the "elf" part of me. Still, I have a duty.

When that duty's been fulfilled, then I can decide if I want to keep the face of a Grey Warden. Those thoughts, however, are for another time. Right now I need to save the queen. The elven handmaid waves me down when she finally spots me and we meet up behind a wagon. The elf whispers quickly and glances over her shoulder as she explains what we're going to do.

"We need to go around back to the servant's entrance. I'll tell you what to do after that.". I nod and follow the elf as she turns tail and scampers around the side of the castle. I follow closely after her without a moment's hesitation. We're halfway down the side of the castle when the alarm's sounded from above.

"Hey, someone's down there! Go check it out!". The handmaid "eeps" and scurries behind me and my team as we turn back towards the mouth of the alley we're in to face the guards. Four men in heavy armor with iron weapons come charging down the length of the alley to meet us. The sods don't even stand a chance against my team.

My team is perfection in mortal form. We are gods in mortal vessels. We are the cultivation of warriors bred and trained to fight without a single, fatal flaw. Wynne heals wounds before they even open, Duncan mauls with the strength his ancestors needed to survived, and Leliana rains death from above with precision that would make a surgeon envious. I am the final piece of the puzzle. I'm a warrior who fears no death and glories in the rage of battle. When we finally stop the four men are mere red streaks across the grass. I turn to the handmaid with blood soaking my face.

"Let's go save the queen.".