Chapter 1: Nice Crime You Have Around Here

The sky above Denerim was clear, and the sun shone warmly upon the stone city. A nice day all considered, rare for these parts. People were out in full force, taking advantage of the fickle weather before the warmth was absorbed entirely by the stone walkways. Vendors called out to potential customers, their wares scattered across tables as people picked up what caught their eye and clumsily placed them back out of order.

"Fine dwarven crafts!"

Sasha ducked her head down as she passed through a gaggle of what looked to be young nobility, who had halted in the middle of the thoroughfare. They were chattering amongst themselves and seemed to be oblivious to the dirty looks cast their way by the average passerby.

Sasha knew she was safe from notice; her clothes were relatively ragged, though in decent order, dirty enough that the most she'd get would be a cursory glance before the eyes would slide past her to look at someone else more interesting. Not ragged enough to be mistaken for a beggar by any means, but the dirt on her face and the state of her hair, held back by a soot-stained headband that doubled as a cover for her ears, marked her as decidedly lower class.

She hurried by nonetheless. She was safe from a cursory glance, but a sharp eye would see the tips of her ears that the headband and her dark hair couldn't conceal and the fine cheekbones that marked her elven heritage, and she had no time to suffer their disparaging remarks.

Her hand instinctively covered her satchel and its precious contents. The market was rife with thieves and pickpockets. She knew too well their operating schedule, and though the young nobles made for a far grander target than her, she couldn't take any chances.

A heavy portcullis marked the entrance to the alienage, where a single guard stood, turning their head from side to side as they took in each passerby. Sasha froze. Evidently her errand had taken her too long. There was a new guard on duty and they looked much sharper than the half-dozed regular.

Trying to make her sudden change in direction look as natural as possible, she slowed to a stop in front of a nearby stall and pretending to be interesting in the wares. The merchant, a dwarf dressed in a fine red and gold doublet, winked at her.

"Direct from Orzammar," he told her, offering a dagger for inspection.

Sasha smiled back, taking the dagger, and pursed her lips as she examined its weight. She then shook her head and handed it back to the dwarf. Sasha glanced quickly behind her, but it seemed that the guard had taken no notice of her. She turned and walked into a nearby alley, where another entrance to the alienage was hidden.

While it wasn't illegal for elves to leave the alienage, security had tightened somewhat about those entering and exiting its limits. The official response was that there had been an increase in smuggled goods, but everyone knew the real reason.

Young elves, specifically young women, had been turning up dead in the sewers, and unrest was rising. It wasn't uncommon for death to come to those of any age in the alienage, but this couldn't be blamed on local crime. The rate at which these girls were found, throats slit open, bruises marking their wrists, their thighs, their faces, was far higher than anyone could remember.

The guards declared each new body the victim of domestic abuse, a mugging gone wrong, a prostitute plying her trade on the wrong person, whatever excuse seemed most suitable. Sasha did not consider these answers satisfactory, and neither did anyone in the alienage.

Regardless, Sasha couldn't take the chance that the new guard wouldn't search her satchel. She would have to take the tunnel entrance, hidden in the back of an abandoned warehouse behind a stack of crates. Before entering the warehouse, she nodded to the watcher on the roof, who whistled a small tune, notifying any who might be inside of a Friend entering.

Sasha stood for a moment on her doorstep, letting the sun warm her face, before walking into her house. It was nearly as warm on the inside, a rarity. It made for a nice change.

"Father, I brought-" She froze.

Standing in the main room were two templars. Sasha felt the blood drain from her face. Before she could react, her father stumbled out of the closet that served as his room, carrying a small chest. As soon as he saw her, he stopped, awkwardly struggling with the weight of the chest.

"Ah, Sasha… would you mind-"

Her father was interrupted by one of the templars. "Leave us, girl." The voice sounded cold and faintly muffled underneath the steel helm that masked the templar's face.

Sasha remained, frozen in fear.

"Have you got shit for ears, girl? Let your elders talk," came the command from the other one.

She regained her senses and managed a nod, before dashing out the door. The sun, once warm and comforting, now felt cool as dread filled her veins.

She blindly stumbled down a side alley that ran along the backside of her house and came to a dead end. Checking for anyone behind her, she finally dared to breathe once she was sure she was alone.

Sasha sat, clenching her fist and opening it repeatedly. Why were the templars here, of all places? Had someone seen her? Did they know?

As the questions unfurled in her mind, she forced herself to take a deep breath as common sense reasserted itself. If they knew, they wouldn't have told her to leave. If they knew, she would be halfway to Lake Calenhad by now. She was safe, Sasha told herself. Two breaths later and she finally thought to glance at her clenched fist.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she saw thin crackling lines of red energy dancing around her hand, their tendrils spiraling up her forearm. Glancing around, she saw the bits of moss that formed at the edge of the muck that served as their roads change color, from a murky green to a dry brown. Concentrating hard, she kept breathing at counts of eight. Eight beats in, eight beats out. Repeat. Repeat.

Looking at her hand again, Sasha saw that the red glow had dulled, the tendrils had shrunk. Keeping her concentration on her breathing, she watched as it eventually faded.

Sasha sighed in relief. She had left just in time. Had the templars seen… she didn't think even the entirety of the alienage had enough sovereigns to pay them to look the other way. She looked back up at the entrance to the alley, making sure that no one had seen her. She breathed another sigh of relief. She was safe. For now.

"Father, why were the templars here?" Sasha asked over dinner that night.

Her father paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. He set it down and cleared his throat a bit. "They were collecting," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Collecting? Protection money?" It was common knowledge that some of the city's guards were involved in protection schemes, but she hadn't heard of the templars doing anything of that sort.

"Ah, no. Collection of a different kind." He scratched the back of his neck. "It's the chantry's responsibility to hold onto dowry payments until both parties are joined in union."

Sasha felt her face twist into a scowl. She knew this day would come. She'd been expecting it even. She also knew that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The two sat in silence, neither touching their stew. One minute passed. Then two. Then Sasha broke the quiet. "Who?"

"A lad from Highever. Nelaros, I think his name is. A nice boy, according to his elder."

"When?"

"A month from now. Enough time for them to prepare for the journey and for us to schedule it with the chantry."

Sasha stabbed the chunks of potato in her stew with her spoon.

Her father's face was sympathetic. "Look, Sasha. I know how you cherish your freedom. You always have, and that's an admirable quality. It's what drew me to your mother. But sometimes… sometimes we have to do our duty for the greater good. You can't remain a child forever, and I can't protect you forever. The world-"

"Fine, I'll do it."

"You… you will?" He caught himself. "I mean, uh, yes. You will."

Sasha hadn't known how tense her father had been until his shoulders sagged in relief that she hadn't fought him on this. She grimaced. On any other day, she might have. But after another flare up of her hand, she couldn't afford to get into an argument. She couldn't risk it going off again.

She silently resolved to do everything in her power to get out of this arrangement as soon as possible. Until then, she'd have to take care to control her emotions, her temper.

Changing the subject, Sasha looked up at her father and said through gritted teeth, "I got the medicines from Sister Hannah's apothecary easily enough, she was too busy bickering with Sister Lorine to pay attention. They're in the satchel. But there will have to be fewer trips in the future. They're upping the guard around the alienage, and there can't be much foot traffic around the back way."

Her father nodded and sighed. "Unfortunate, but necessary. Good job. Valendrian will be pleased."

Sasha got up, cleared her dishes, and went into her room.

Pinned to the wall was a shard of mirror she had scrounged from the tub of discarded spell components outside The Wonders of Thedas. She cast it only a cursory glance, enough to see the hopelessly tangled state of her dark hair, before she collapsed onto her bed, exhausted.

Try as she might, she could not fall asleep. Perhaps it was that her days in this bed were now numbered that made her so restless. Perhaps it was the rising threat of some killer out there. Whatever it was, Sasha wished with all her heart that it would leave her the fuck alone.