A/n I wanted to write this, so I am. Does it make sense? I don't know. Would it even happen? Probably not. Nothing worthwhile and long lasting was ever achieved without Violence. (Likely said by someone in Thedas at some point)
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No one was surprised when the Grey Warden, As'lana Tabris, put Alistair on the throne. No one was surprised when she led the forces she gathered, to victory at Denerim. No one was surprised when Alistair the new king of Ferelden named her Hero of Ferelden and promised the Grey Wardens Amaranthine, with a thank you. No one blinked when she reclaimed Soldiers Peak, and Vigil's Keep became a hub for Grey Wardens and elves alike. No one was surprised when she opened expeditions into the Deep Roads with her fellow Wardens and Dwarven allies. There was not a batted eye while she sought out other bases and abandon keeps to hold for those that looked to her for guidance and hope. There was a pause that was quickly forgotten when she found a decimated castle deep in the Frostback Mountains, on the border between Orlais and Ferelden. There were curious stares as the castle was built and strange runes were carved into the stone while it was being restored. Still, no one looked closer with a critical eye. Tevinter briefly noted larger amounts of slaves, human and elf alike, escaping and vanishing without a trace. Orlais celebrated as elves left and humans began to fill their roles.
Those looking to the Warden grew, and with that growth came a need for space and resources. Space found in the Frostback Mountains and the Deep Roads. Resources cultivated from the Mountains and trade. Not one nation cared, as the Warden took to occupying long abandoned tunnels and holds in the Frostback Mountains, left from days before Ferelden, before Orlais, and even before Tevinter. She made allegiances with the Avaar and reinforced her bonds with Ferelden, Orlais continued to care little for the activities brought on by a single elf. No one wondered how she cared for so many, when there was little in the cold unforgiving mountains.
The surprises came much later, after her had been Warden Commander of Ferelden for five years. Her power and influence within Ferelden, the Free Marshes, and Orlais had grown to a point that leaders and spy masters began to finally take notice.
The Hero of Ferelden's home in the Alienage in Denerim emptied over the span of one year. The elves seeking the protection and hope for a better life with the Grey Warden who saved them all. Elves from all over Ferelden flocked to her banner, quickly over populating the spaces. She used her connections with the dwarves and the Deep Roads to fund expeditions with Grey Wardens at the front to discover forgotten treasures and support her growing population.
Little came out of the community sprouting up around her. Despite her seemingly, accepting everyone policy, spies would enter her holds, farms, or castles and would have little to share of secrets. She offered food, work, and a place for anyone who wished it. With the increase of numbers, more field hands were needed, soldiers to protect them from bandits, smiths for armor, and so much more. The bulk of her people were elves, who made up around eighty-five percent, but humans and dwarves alike were welcome.
She was often moving between each place, gathering influence and aiding those during the Blight and after. She never turned her eyes away from anyone in need; that was what the commonfolk said. No one below her gaze. She built her communities up with trusted support of humans, elves, and dwarves. The Grey Wardens recruited from Ferelden or those that came from Orlais sprinkled in every step.
It was on the fifth year, as everything seemed to fall into place for the Elven commander, the Circles rebelled. Many mages turned against their keepers and sought independence. The center of that rebellion was Kirkwall. The Warden offered up Skyhold, her rebuilt castle in the Frostback Mountains, to the mages for sanctuary. Grand Enchanter Fiona, seeing no better option, lead her people to the keep. The Templars seeing the actions of The Warden as blasphemy began attacking the Frostback Mountains with little success. The harsh climate and hidden safe houses kept them far from the castle.
A few months later, issues in Orlais began. Gaspard, seizing the opportunity of unrest, betrayed Empress Celene forcing a Civil War between the two nobles; and like with most wars, it was the People who suffered the cost of those battles. Orlesian commonfolk fled the fighting, moving toward Ferelden taking up space in the Dales, Templar movement preventing them from crossing the Frostback Mountains.
Bandits using the war to seek independence found themselves facing what appeared to be Emerald Knights, who attacked in the dark. Their Vallaslin glowing silver, mirrored the moon they attacked under. Those fleeing the war had nothing to fear from the strange men and women who attacked bandits, soldiers, and Templars who tried to harm them, but left food and clothes for the refugees. At their head was said to be a beautiful Elven maiden with fire in her hair lighting up the night and emerald green eyes. Her armor was silver as their vallaslin and sparked with magic. She rode a copper colored Halla, painted with markings to match her own. The commonfolk told of their visits every night to the mortal realm, defending their long-lost home even in death.
It took another year before the war moved away from the place that was once the Dales and focused on the capital of Val Royeaux. The Emerald Knights had pushed the armies out of the Exalted Plains and liberated refugees from their violence. The forts the armies had tried to hold were emptied as supplies ran out and arrows rained from the heavens at night. The once elven keep occupied by Celene's forces was abandoned when the defenses left by the Dalish elves were activated and killed many. The Emerald Knights continued their defense even as the violence receded and refugees took to the Dales as their new home. Templars took up posts leading out the Frostback Mountains hoping to surprise any mages that attempted to flee the unforgiving climate. They combated Avaar and other local inhabitants they disturbed by their presence, and were loyal to The Warden.
As commonfolk began cultivating the fields again, feeling safe from the wars, they offered up their harvests and thanks to their nightly saviors. Halamshiral was overtaken by survivors of the war, after one long night of fighting by the Emerald Knights, who somehow overcame their defenses. The palace was turned into a hospital and refuge for healers, mages and surgeons alike. Seekers of knowledge flocked to the once out of reach library and history stored in the Winter Palace. A few Dalish clans had made their way to the Dales, taking up space around the palace and agreeing to teach all who wished to learn of their ways. The Warden surprised everyone when she made it known that she knew enough Elven to communicate with them.
When the armies of the Orlesian nobles retreated closer to the capital of Orlais, The Warden began assisting those left behind. Soldiers who were left to die or tried to outrun the war their leaders were undertaking, found solace in the Dales. The Warden enlisted mages from Skyhold and the Grey Wardens to aid the sick and hurt. Her people moved from the mountains and cared for those damaged by the wars. The Templar presence was pushed back and they were forced to retreat and regroup at one of their fortresses in Ferelden. Between the Emerald Knights and The Warden's aid the Dales were for the most part independent from Orlais for the first time since the Dales fell.
Many, human and elf, began calling themselves Dalish, talks of seeking true independence began happening at the end of the second year. Celene and Gaspard busy fighting amongst themselves took little note of the Dales. Gaspard promising to his followers that once Celene was ousted he would put the upstart attempt at rebellion in its place. Celene was kept informed by her spy master, Briala, but saw little value in speaking of war on two fronts.
Another year ticked by, the war for the throne going nowhere, and the Dales operating more and more independently. The Warden moved many of her people into the new area, easily taking up positions of influence and power. The refugees looked to them for guidance and aid in disputes. The Emerald Knights appeared less and less, instead The Warden's guard defended the people from bandits and those that would bring harm to the people that settled there, as well as rogue Templars that plague them. Any who wished training, was giving it, causing the sleeping military might of the Dales to grow.
The support behind The Warden grew as well. Many once Orlesians seeing the woman as one of them, not a noble using them in her war, but protecting them as a mother would. She offered them a home and guarded their backs fiercely. There was still fighting between the different groups, but rarely did it go to blows. Anyone who harmed another was dealt with swiftly. They were all here together, and they would need to support each other and stand together if they wished to continue.
The Revered Mothers operating in the Dales began adding Shartan back into the Chant of Light, connecting the main groups more. Leliana, a friend of The Warden suggested the best fits for the changing Dales. They worked together and had the different figures shuffled around at the approval of the Divine. The Dalish taught the Elven Pantheon and found many who gladly changed. Some, blended the two faiths. Either way, under the guidance of The Warden and her people, fighting remained at a minimum.
Word of the mage rebellion spreading out echoed through the half-formed country. Mages began to appear in numbers, slowly over the year as if trickled with purpose. Children mages and those that had not passed their Harrowing were brought to the Winter Palace to continue their training. Templars present, but heavily vetted before allowed into the Dales. Often the men and women were under disguise to hide their duty from those that would harm them. Many of the Mage children and youth were living in the Winter Palace, under the protection of The Warden herself, and the carefully selected Templars, who merely wanted to keep their charges safe from others as well as themselves.
The bulk of the Dales was suddenly occupied by elves; by the hundreds elves from all over Thedas migrated to the changing Dales. The whispers of reclaiming their conquered homeland were sung from every corner of the known world. The Warden at the center, offering a home to any who needed it, human, elf, dwarf, or Qunari. All were welcome under her protection. Her keeps and holds in Ferelden were left with Grey Wardens and a few caretakers. King Alistair had nothing to say on her change of location. They were good friends and had good standing. Ferelden had little to fear from the Elf who ended the fifth Blight.
The Warden sent word to Ferelden, stating that while she and her people stood with Ferelden, the newly forming Dales was not hers to offer in alliance. She was helping those that needed help and nothing else.
As the Civil War seemed to turn in Gaspard's favor, the Templars offered him an alliance. Gaspard seeing an opportunity to reclaim the lost home of the elves, supported the Templars in their quest to defeat The Warden. The Emerald Knights reappeared, keeping the Templars at bay while the people escaped deeper into their homeland. The Emerald Knights fought in the night, while The Warden and those that followed her defended the people in the day.
With Gaspard's forces divided between Celene and The Warden, he quickly lost the advantage in his Civil War for the Crown of Orlais. With her victory almost assured Celene called for a Peace Talk, wanting to end the suffering and struggle of her people. Gaspard pulled his army back together, readying to face Celene head on and abandoning his Templar allies. Before the Peace Talks could happen, Gaspard died in his sleep. The likely cause was poison, but nothing could be proven.
For a moment Orlais breathed a sigh of relief. With Celene's position on the throne secure, her army turned their eyes to the rebellious Dales. The Warden along with those willing to take up arms, stood ready to fight for their hard-won peace. Before the armies could clash however, Tevinter seeing the chance to take the weakened Orlais invaded. The Warden kept her army at the ready, if Tevinter reach their border, the Dales would not fall. Over the course of a year, Tevinter pushed further and further into Orlais easily overpowering the divided and weakened Orlesian army. More refugees flooded into the Dales seeking the protection and hope the elven Warden offered.
The Warden had her army stationed at Val Firmin. The city marked the edge of her controlled domain. She had not wanted to go passed it, and knew the city was an excellent place of trade. The city was a perfect representation of the country of Orlais and all its faults in a few miles. The once human control marble structures dwarfed the hobbles servants, human and elven, resided in. The nobles that once lived here would take their fun out of the women and children in the slums, any who fought back were giving very public punishments, often designed to humiliated them, before death. This was the one city The Warden had taken directly without any push from those she protected.
The Winter Palace had been taken, not because she wished to, but because they wished her too. The elves of Thedas were thirsty for salvation. They wanted a home, to be safe, to feel a part of something. All of those things had been taken from them; first by Tevinter and then Orlais. She had not intended to be the force that brought their wishes to reality, but here she was. Standing at the frontline, People she considered her own at her back. Those that followed her, shed blood with her all around.
She had set out to establish the Grey Wardens and hopefully help her people as best she could from that place of power. The unending number of elves that sought her protection overwhelmed her resources and space quickly. Every time she thought for a moment everything was in hand, more showed, forcing her to keep moving and growing. It wasn't just those that sought her out that needed her, no, others did as well. Fereldens abandoned by their nobles who could barely keep their own keeps and villages fed. The Blight while short had ravaged the land, food was scarce and with Alistair still new to the throne, she picked up the slack, knowing that one day he'd take it back from her.
Year after year and the numbers under her protection grew until she had little choice but to move outside of Ferelden's border. Parts of the Deep Road were sealed off and turned into space they used. The Castle in the Frostbacks had been a blessing. The soil around it rich with nutrients and magic. It had been easy to branch out from there and settle the caves and tunnels within the snow-covered peaks. She stored as much food as possible, knowing that eventually she would out stride her resources and did not wish her people to starve.
The need to care for others was how she found herself suddenly the leader in the Dales. The army looked to her for guidance and her people, protection. Involving herself with a country at war had been a risk, but she could not sit by and watch innocence suffer needlessly. The commonfolk tossed about by a Civil War and the Templars foolishly thinking they could conquer the Frostbacks. Velanna had come up with the idea of using the Emerald Knights as a cover for their involvement.
"Let those idiots think ghosts are helping them." The planned worked flawlessly, Velanna along with the Dalish Clan from the Fifth Blight marked her and her warriors faces and mounts with Vallaslin, using a reflective mineral found all over the mines in the Frostbacks. The Commonfolk did the rest. Word of mouth, giving hope to an otherwise hopeless situation, and fear to everyone else. No one wanted to fight the dead come back.
She wondered if this feeling of righteousness was what the Emerald Knights of the Dales felt while standing against the oppressor that was Orlais and the Chantry. As'lana had never been a religion person. A faith that claims we are all the children of the Maker, but some are clearly better than others was not something she'd give weight to. Battles were won with numbers and determination; the Maker had no place on the field. She took in a slow breath, waiting for the fighting to arrive was stressful and boring.
"Commander," Howe walked to her on the wall she stood on. The Commonfolk had taken to calling her my Lady, her fighters called her Commander, for that was what she was. The Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden. She had wanted to pass the title to Clay, a Grey Warden from Orlais, but he refused. She was still waiting for her involvement with this conflict to blow up in her face. Wardens were not supposed to be political. She wasn't trying to overthrow the empress; She'd gladly step aside if it would result in no more harm. But that wasn't the case. If she bowed to Orlais now, the Dales would suffer, every Elf that had come to find safety and a home would suffer. She'd die first.
"What is it Howe?" Her eyes never left the horizon. Trade still entered and exited the limited parts of the city still open to such things. She could not risk a bomb or something else getting in and killing any of those here at her command.
"There... there are two elves sent by Empress Celene who wish to speak to you." She turned her eyes to her fellow Warden for the first time since he walked up beside her. "Unescorted."
"Did they say what it was they wanted?" Maker, she hated politics. Give her a sword and an enemy any day, dealing with the nuances of politics and nobility was exhausting.
"No. But if I'd venture a guess. The Empress is likely seeking aid." That was a surprise. The war against Tevinter was not going well then. They received limited knowledge of the ongoing battles between the two nations. Leliana had supplied much of it. With the Templar-Mage rebellion mostly contained to the Frostbacks, the Divine had set her eyes on finding peace between the two nations. Once that was done, As'lana was certain she'd have the Chantry and Orlais to keep at bay.
"Shit." She looked up at the midday sun, letting out a breath. She thought the hardest part of being here was parading around as a ghost at night and leading her forces in the day. The lack of sleep was preferred to this. Howe laughed, shifting on his feet. He had been bred to be involved in politics. His father was a good enough player to almost successfully raise his family up a few steps. Unlucky for him, it was while a Blight was going on, and a certain elf Grey Warden cut off his head before it stuck. "Can't you go?" Howe tips his head with a raised eyebrow, letting her know he thought her question stupid.
"I sent them up in your study." He smiled. "Didn't think you'd want them out for everyone to see." She ran her hand over her head. Since her nightly dances as an Emerald Knight, she had taken to keeping her hair tight and controlled at the back of her head. The hair pulled at her face making it appear tight and severe. The tight skin lightened her eyes, making them appear more blue than green. Letting out an annoyed groan, she moved to head to her study, giving Howe the finger when he burst out laughing again. He was a great friend.
The marble house they were staying was silent, many of the soldiers out in the city training or doing other duties. She had them removed as little art and décor as possible, since there was no way currently to transport it anywhere else. Eventually, she'd like to turn The Winter Palace into a college of some sort and move much of these frivolously things there for everyone to enjoy. A school to teach those who wished to learn. She had already distributed teachers to as many settlements as possible, hoping to have a population that could all read, write, and do basic math. In the Alienage she had the advantage of learning because her father had a kind employer. There was not many who did.
She stopped outside the door she knew the strangers to be behind. The Knight guarding the door, smiled at her warmly. He was a human stationed in Halamshiral, protecting the commonfolk from the nobles' wrath after his sworn lord had died in the Civil War. She had met him in the night while glowing and otherworldly. He had bowed to her immediately and swore fealty. It had been a strange moment, but she never regretted having him by her side.
She turned back to the door and wondered for a moment if she should have stopped to get tea before coming. She was not well informed on the ups and downs of Orlesian niceties. Frowning at the overly decorated door, she shrugged and pushed it open. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Standing in the center of the room was a male elf, broad in the shoulders and wide ears narrowing sharper than most. He turned and looked at her with bright violet eyes. If she had doubted it before, she was certain now. This was an Elvhen. She had encountered the ancient elves a few times in her travels to secure resources and allegiances during her time before the Dales. They had all been unyielding and outright unkind. The immortal members of her race, saw her as no better than the humans elves were enslaved by. His Vallaslin was for Mythal if she had to venture a guess, but like Velanna it was not one she had seen before. He had a small piece of wood entangled lightly at his side. Neither spoke, eyes taking each other in. She sighed letting her eyes slip to the other elf in the room.
She was taller than As'lana, but still shorter than the elf beside her. She had bright copper gold eyes and wore an Orlesian mask of a courtesan. Her dress of green, and As'lana took note of the bow at her back, and knifes at her waist. These two would be a fight worth having, was the thought she had when she finished taking them in. The woman stepped forward, a letter in hand.
"We come with a message from Empress Celene." As'lana groaned, running her hands over her face a few times, before joining them fully in the room.
"Right to it than." She shook her shoulders, leaning heavily against the desk, her own blue-green eyes sparking in her annoyance. "I'd like your names." She crossed her arms and waited. The woman's name came easily enough, Briala. As'lana knew her to be Celene's spymaster. It was interesting that the Empress would send her best weapon after an unlikely ally. The male smiled at her, humor on his face. She took note of what was a sign of a good-natured person. Such a change from the other Elvhen she had the displeasure of meeting. Felassan was his name; slow arrow in the common tongue. "What does the Empress have to say?" She gestured for the woman to read it. Briala nodded and opened the rolled-up parchment.
The contents were simple, the Dales aided Orlais pushing Tevinter back, and if successful, they would have their independence. As'lana closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Fucking Politics. The man cleared his throat eyes still dancing with amusement.
"Isn't that what you want? You could rule the Dales." Then lightness of his voice spoke to his understanding of her motives being nothing along those lines. She didn't want to rule the Dales, fuck she didn't want to fight Templars and Bandits, and whatever else this world threw her way, but she would not leave other to suffer when she could do something.
"It gives the Dales independence, not that I will rule it." She stretched, walking around the desk to look out the window at the city that was once divided. She had not wanted a lot of things, but still they came to her.
"Who but you?! They only stand whole because of you." Briala's blunt voice filled the silence. "You could give the Elves a homeland!"
"Then you be the queen of it." Her voice snapped. She took in a calming breath, eyes burning with her emotion. "I never wanted this." She shook her head, eyes drifting to the man at Briala's side, his eyebrows raised. "What would you do Elvhen?" The distinction in the word was lost on Briala so focused on her rage, but Felassan picked it up, surprise on his face.
"This is the best chance of an elven homeland. I doubt there will be another." She tapped her fingers on the wooden desk, taking peace from the clicking of her armor. Her eyes slid to Briala who was watching her with a mix of hatred, hope, and envy. As'lana stood on the edge of something, whether she would fall or fly remained to be seen.
"Very well." Briala took in a surprised breath, relief and hope obvious on her face. Felassan didn't seem fazed, an enduring smile on his face. "I..." As'lana groaned again. "The Dales will stand with Empress Celene against Tevinter... in exchange our independence from Orlais will not be questioned." Briala nodded handing her the rolled parchment, which she placed in a bag at her hip. "Come along then." She went to exit the room, ignoring the expressions on their faces. She ordered the knight at the door to find the captain on the west side, and have his men gather in the courtyard. They walked the halls stopping and ordering knights and soldiers to gather her forces all together. The process took over an hour, Briala and Felassan followed behind her quietly, both keeping their council to themselves.
Howe eventually appeared while they wandered, informing the Warden the forces had gathered. With another sigh and shake of her hands the Warden exited the marble palace and stood at the front steps. In front of her was eight thousand fighters from the Dales. This was less than half of those available to defeat their home, but she had not wanted to leave the Dales defenseless should something happen. They were mostly those who had come to the Dales to escape the wars or find a home. She had the two dozen men and women who fought with her as Emeralds Knights, and more than a hundred Wardens. Mages were mixed into the army easily at least one for every platoon, both healer and defender if needed. The Warden wanted the mages to be seen for the good they could do, rather than destruction. Everyone present was well trained and ready to defend their home.
She gestured for Briala to stand beside her. Felassan, stood off to one side in the shadows to watch. The Warden stood tall, her shoulders back, and no one could doubt her presence.
"People of the Dales." The Warden's voice echoed across the courtyard silencing the men and women standing ready to listen to their leader. "We came together, not because we shared a common faith, a common trait, or even a common view of the world. We came together to protect each other. To help our neighbors when no other would do so." She took a breath, eyes moving across the crowd with purpose. "We aided our fallen fellows and fought hard to keep those who could not fight safe and sound. None would say that the Dales bowed in the face of struggle." She tugged her hair free, letting the waves spark around her like fire. "None would deny our independence." A loud cheer erupted from the men and women. She smiled; eyes bright with emotion. She raised her hands for silence. "I fight for those who need aid. I wield my sword for others before myself. That was what brought me to the Dales. Now, another calls for me." She took another breath knowing this would not end well. "The Empress of Orlais asks for aid against Tevinter, and I am answering her call." There was silence, eyes burning in question and emotion, but all waiting for her to finish. "I will not order you to follow. I am not a queen nor a noble demanding you fight my wars." She shifted her stance affection in her gaze. "But I will ask you, my brothers and sisters of the Dales, will you follow me and aid our neighbors once again."
There was a moment of complete silence as if the very air had stopped at her words. Many present would claim the Maker himself bless that moment. That The Warden looked as if she was born from the fire around her head. None were surprised when every man and women cried out in agreement.
The Dales would aid Orlais.
She thanked them and told them to ready their march; they would leave at dawn. The men and women filed out of the courtyard to do what was asked of them. Briala stood by her, eyes wide in shock and awe. Felassan had a large smile on his face.
"And you do not wish to be queen?" The Warden turned to her elven companions and frowned; her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "That was quite a speech for having just come to you."
"People like to feel good and to have honesty. I merely gave them what they wanted." She entered the palace, gesturing for them to follow. "I was going to aid the Empress regardless of their choice, and I will not force any to stand and fight when they do not wish to do so." Felassan stared at her for a moment, a thought passing over his face that he kept to himself.
"You sound far to wise for you age, Da'len." The Warden laughed, brightening up the room.
"I can't say anyone has had cause to call me that since I was forced away from the Alienage." She had not felt like a child in a long time. Growing up in Denerim took much of that innocence, the Blight took the rest.
Tomorrow they march into Orlais and aid the country that would see her people barely better than slaves. Still, they would go; it was the right thing to do. She locked eyes with Briala; if she was willing to support the empress, maybe there was something worth saving.
The March to Orlais was harsh with the land ravaged first by the civil war and then by the war with Tevinter. The commonfolk were cautious of the mostly elven army, but seemed more curious than afraid. Pieces of her army broke off and aided those around them as best they could. Resources were scarce, but the Mages were able to heal and treat the sick. Surgeons did what they could when they stopped for camp. The Dalish shared what they were able. Luckily the weather held and the road was undamaged. Briala and Felassan guided their path. They brought much with them, unsure how long the war would last, but were ready to hunt and forage if need be.
They were healthy and well-fed, despite the fighting that ravaged the rest of the country. The Warden saw to that, food was rationed, and no one went hungry while the fields were restored and manned in the Dales. The heart of Orlais had no such luck. As they moved closer and closer to Val Royeaux where the Empress was holding out against the Tevinter army surrounding them, the health of the commonfolk worsened. The Warden struggled with every step, wanting to give food and shelter to as many as she could. The trait was an honorable one, but there was only so much she could do. They did what they could every time they camped. Healers went out with guards, and cared for those around them. Some repairs to houses and farms were conducted. Once a dozen soldiers dug a ditch to move water to a desolate village.
Briala and Felassan kept their opinions to themselves, merely watching how The Warden's treatment and care for her people, bled from them onto those around them. She cared and thus so did they. As they moved along, scouting parties began running into small groups of Tevinter soldiers. Sometimes they were other scouting parties looking for the army of the Dales, other times they would attack commonfolk and take resources. The Warden had a standing order to kill any who harmed the people around them. Scouts seeking information were captured and held as needed.
They camped with a day left to reach Val Royeaux. The Warden stood by a make shift table, her captains around her with Briala and Felassan. The two elves had an idea of what exactly the position of the Empress was. The rest was discovered by scouting parties moving easily between the two armies. The Captains looked uncertain of Briala, but did not question The Warden's decision to allow them in the room. The map before them showed the Tevinter army's general numbers, the army had more mages than she had hoped. They had Templars in their ranks, but not enough to be of great use. The Warden had armor to prevent the worst of the damage caused by mages, but not everyone did.
There would be casualties in this fight, more than she had anticipated. Going to war was not for the faint of heart. Everyone man and woman following her knew there was a chance they would not make it home again.
"The best chance would be to use the Emerald Knights." The Warden shifted from foot to foot, "We are quick with our bows and accurate with our aim." Briala gasped, but Felassan didn't seem surprised. "Plus with our armor and the fog, casualties will be kept down while we removed as many mages as possible."
"That would put you and our best fighters at greater risk." The dialogue moved from there, each pointing out faults or reasons for doing certain actions. In the end it was decided that the Emerald Knights would attack first, followed by Templars, and then the rest of their force coming in from the sides. Hopefully by the time the bulk of the armies reach each other, the mages would be of smaller numbers. The Warden dismissed everyone, giving them time to distribute the plan. She was not comfortable with risking the lives of so many, but it had to be done for the safety of the people of Orlais. The cost of being able to fight and protect, meant that they would die fighting and struggling so others could live happily and in peace. That was the first lesson of being a Grey Warden.
"You were the Emerald Knights." Briala walked over to her, eyes narrowed in distrust and arms crossed.
"Of course, I couldn't get involved in a civil war." The Warden smirked. "But spirits of the Dales? They answer to no one." Felassan laughed, drawing the eyes of the two women.
"You are a wonderful surprise Warden." He chuckled again, giving Briala his own smirk. Briala huffed, but uncrossed her arms, a good-natured smile taking over her face.
"Well, now that that is out of the way, rest well, for tomorrow we aid our neighbor." The Warden waved the two out of her tent, before sitting down heavily on her bedroll. She was steeling herself for blood and death, asking her fallen brothers and sisters to guard their backs. She knew this was the right thing to do, but had yet to know the true cost of it. Tomorrow would be the moment the knowledge would be given to her. She striped out of her outer hard armor and laid down, sleep came easy but her dreams were strange.
She had found herself walking through a forest she had never visited before. The sounds muffled as if she was submerged underwater. The air was warm from the summer sun she could not see through the dense canopy of the trees. She was wearing the dress from her days in the Alienage, no weapon in sight. It was peaceful and unnerving in equal measure. She could not recall the last time she did not feel the need to be ready for battle. The nagging habit whittling at her hazy mind. She should at least have some way to defend herself; there was always someone or something trying to kill her.
She turned at the sound of the air shifting, a new form appearing or taking shape in the shadows of the trees, just off the path. She felt the muscles at her back tensing in ready for a fight. Even without a weapon she was not a force to be taken lightly. She frowned, when her long blade appeared in her hand, but did not think too hard on it; the strange muffled feeling scattering her thoughts. A single wolf emerged from the shadows, eyes glowing with green magic. She took in the creatures, realizing that this was a dream. With a laugh, she dropped her sword which vanished when it left her hand. She kneeled, sitting eye level with the wolf.
"What sort of spirit are you?" She reached slowly toward it, pulling back when it growled. "I apologize." She placed her hands in her lap a smile on her face. "I've never seen a spirit take such a shape." She glanced around, taking in the world around her with her eyes. She chuckled, surprised she had not realized the dream world before. She'd find herself here often enough. "Did Valor send you?" The creature looked momentarily surprised. "I am surprised he isn't here." She tugged her hair, a nervous tick she lost when she became a Warden, but reappeared in her sleep. "He usually visits me before a battle of this size." The wolf did not speak or move merely watching her with a thoughtful expression. She didn't move from her own position, hoping the wolf would prove to be as interesting as she thought.
"Pride." She turned around sharply and standing behind her to the left was a blue spirit, magic dancing around him. Valor had been her friend since the battle for Denerim. He had visited her dreams, drawn by her spirit before the assault. He had told her that she was a light of Valor and Hope that could be seen burning throughout the Fade as she moved to end the Blight. He became her teacher and friend. He taught her how to fight and lead, how to speak elven, and much about her People's lost history. He guided her down the path of a warrior, a hero. He was why she did not wish to be queen. She belonged on the battlefield, leading men and women in righteous fights against oppressors. She was not forged to die old in bed; she burned too brightly to settle for such a fate.
"Valor! I knew you'd visit me." She stood, pausing for a moment when he did not reach for her. They had embraced when meeting for years now. "Valor?" She turned her gaze back to the wolf, who had grown in size. He was large enough for her to ride should the opportunity arise.
"Why do you seek out my Little One, Pride?" The wolf returned his gaze, lips pulled back slightly in warning. As'lana gripped Valor's shoulder, knowing he wouldn't turn down a challenge of any sort.
"What do you mean? Seek me out?" The blue spirit, pulled her behind him, tense in a way that told her he expected a fight. The Wolf pulled back his lips tighter growling. She gasped as Valor pulled a spear. She had never seen a spirit fight another in the Fade. Valor had told her to do so was a great dishonor. Spirits like Valor and Rage would battle deep in the Fade and recreate wars from Thedas, but to just fight was rare. Disputes did not happen in the Fade like they did in the mortal realm. Space was endless here, and each had their domain; there was little reason to encroach.
"Test me Pride, if you wish, but Little One has my protection." The Wolf looked surprised again, glowing green eyes moving from Valor to her. He looked curious and thoughtful, lowing his aggression, but not shrinking in size. He turned away, bounding into the trees. He looked back for a moment, eyes taking in the scene of Valor on guard standing between him and the dreaming elf woman. He let out a long howl before vanishing.
"What was that about?" She didn't step in front of her friend, still feeling his tense posture. After several breaths, he returned his spear to himself. He didn't speak immediately, eyes watching her with the deep affection she had come to know. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She could almost feel him pressing his power into her skin. His desire to protect her was well known, but he also knew she was much like him and battle called to them.
"Wake Little One and remember to be weary of Pride." She jerked awake, heart pounding in her ears. She had met other spirits while Valor walked her through the Fade. She was not a mage and could not traverse it as they did. But in her dreams Valor could show her the way. He altered the Fade and guided her see things she wouldn't have been able to otherwise. She had seen spirits of Compassion, Hope, Rage, Desire, and so many more. Wisps of Curiosity dancing around her singing their questions and thoughts as children would.
Never had another spirit even hinted at challenging Valor. His honor would force him to accept, and he was far stronger and older than any other Spirit she had met. She pulled her hair back out of her face. Rubbing her eyes, and tried to figure out what it all meant. She had encountered Spirits of Pride before, they were loud and boisterous things. She would say King Cailan was a good human example of such a spirit, many of the Orlesians she had met over her time. Nothing gave her any hint to this Pride that had Valor so on edge. The form he took was another interesting thing. She had Nightmares take the shape of Darkspawn and an Archdemon, a spirit of Compassion showing her mother glowing gold.
The wolf, beside his eyes, was no different than any other wolf she had seen in the mortal realm. Spirits never got that great at details. If she had been alone, eventually she would have assumed he was a Dreamer, venturing into others dreams, to steal secrets or possible entertain himself. But Valor called him Pride. The wolf was a Spirit, and she needed to be weary of him.
She gave up on finding the dream world again and dressed for her battle. The silver armor of the Emerald Knights was enchanted to shine and keep attacks to a minimum. She needed to clear her mind and calm her heart if she wanted to be at her best for the assault. She exited her tent and was surprised to find Felassan standing off to the side, face thoughtfully looked out on the half asleep camp. The sun had yet to rise.
"Felassan..." She started then stopped. She had intended to ask him about the dream, but was unsure if that was offensive or not. He turned to her, head tipped in question and his endless friendly smile on his face. "May I ask you something?" He nodded, following as she started walk through the tents. She explained her dream, speaking softly, not wanting anyone to hear her unease.
"Spirits are more than people give them credit." He started. "This Valor has taken you under his protection. Older more powerful spirits will do such things, when they find a particular mortal interesting." He kept up his pace beside her; his smile widened. "Pride likely found you interesting as well. Maybe to kill you or possibly to claim you as Valor did." He gave her a humorous looked. "I wish I could have seen Pride's face. For two powerful Spirits to seek out the same Mortal is quite a rare thing. He was probably very surprised and unnerved." He laughed, loud enough for her to looked around nervous they were going to awaken the camp. "To care enough to even consider fighting!" He seemed to be speaking more to himself then her.
"What of Valor's warning? Do you think Pride will try something?" She stopped watching the elf beside her turn from humor to thoughtfulness quickly.
"I do not think he will risk conflict with Valor lightly, but does that mean Pride will not visit again... I do not know." She nodded slowly, wishing she had had more time to speak with her friend and teacher. There were many questions she wanted answered and no one who could answer them. Either way it Pride, Valor, and her questions would all have to wait. There was a battle to fight and war to be won. Felassan seemed content to end the discussion there, nodding lightly before he left. As'lana stood slightly, watching the tents as her men and women emerged and began readying themselves for the battle. The sun had yet to rise; they had intended to use the rising sun to hid the true might of their forces. The Emerald Knights would ride opposite the sun, and the army would use the surprise and blinding light to their advantage.
As'lana joined her two dozen Emerald Knights at the makeshift corral, where their Halla were being held. The mounts were unlikely to run and could easily jump out of their pen, but the fences kept many questions at bay. Her Halla, a copper-colored Pride of Arlathan wandered over to her, having already been painted by the Dalish clan that cared for them. They had decided to wear the full attire of their ruse, and play on superstitions as here as well.
"Hello Solas, my pride." She ran her fingers along the arch of her Halla's nose, making certain to leave the paint untouched. The others were already painted and Velanna had come up beside her paint in hand. She stood quickly, taking peace from him. The mount had been at her side since he wanted into Skyhold while it was being repaired. Solas would allow none but her to approach and eventually gave her the honor of being his rider. He had been the catalyst that sparked Velanna's suggestion of using the Emerald Knights.
"Don't do anything stupid Commander." Velanna set the paint aside having finished her task. "These shems aren't worth it." As'lana snorted at her friend's words. The Warden did her best to make peace between the human and elven members of her people, but there was still much that could be done. Velanna would never hurt anyone under her protection, but speaking of her fellows in such a way was not helpful. Velanna's smug face told The Warden that she knew it.
"Thanks for the advice. I will do my best not to die." They shared a good-natured laugh, until the other Knights mounted up. The Warden gripped the horn of Solas and easily slid just behind his shoulders. None of them were using saddles and reins. The riders and their Halla were bonded together. (translate to Elven later)
"All together." She buried her fingers into the thick hair at her mount's neck, back straight, and eyes glancing at her fellows. Her red hair was loose, bits of the glowing paint sprinkled in the locks to give it an otherworldly glow. The paint on her face designed to enhance the bright green of her eyes. The other Knights were wearing a mix of silver and green armor, making it easy to identify her as the leader. There had been more than one protest to the choice, but she never faltered.
"We stand together, we fall together." The others chanted back to her. Readying themselves for their solitary charge. She nodded and they walked slowly through the camp, the rest of the army, prepared as well. They were moving to their units, some praying as they passed, many nodding in respect. The Emerald Knights were the first to die for the Dales, and that would not be any different today. She smiled briefly at Felassan and Briala, standing at the edge of camp. They were not to be involved in the direct fighting, but standing at their backs as a safety net.
"Ready Solas?" She touched her mount at the back of his head; he gave a snort of approval. Felassan burst into laughter at Briala's side, but she didn't look; eyes burning at the sight of the slowly rising sun. Let it begin.
The Emerald Knights took the Tevinter army by surprise, kill more than twice their numbers in mages before there was any retaliation. The mages tossed fire lightning at their group to no effect. The Knights kept their distance as much as possible, raining down arrows at the army sieging the Orlesian capital. They moved quickly encircling the invaders while keeping their focus. The Tevinters noticed the charge of the bulk of the Dalish forced just before the reach them. The Warden's men and women easily drove the Tevinter army away from the capital gates, and divided them, while they fled into the tree line and down the road. The Warden still on the back of her mount chased the largest group, her Knights following.
Around a thousand of her men and women died. An Emerald Knight had been struck by fire, but none of the others were hurt. Her men and women took up the abandoned place of the Tevinter army, readying for a return assault. The gates did not open for six days, but the Dalish had little issue with it. Briala had found her way back into the now liberated capital and reunited with the empress. The Tevinters tried to take back their stance four times over those days with no success.
Eventually The Warden's scouts reported their movement of retreated closer to Tevinter. As'lana decided to wait rather than chase the invaders. She was not going to push the whole army out of Orlais with just her own forces. This would be a joint effort, or they would be returning home.
On the sixth day she was called into the capital, and the gates were opened. Men and women from what were left of the Orlesian army stationed in the capital emerged, and an exchange of some sort occurred. As'lana would say it was polite if a bit bitter. They likely did not want to be indebted to a group that was still seen as nothing more than a weak rebellion. The Orlesian scouts moved out of the city to gather was what left of their forces scattered around the country. As'lana walked into the large imposing white stone walls, eyes stayrng straight, not wanting to see the splendor that was built on the backs of her people. Others saw wealth and achievement; she saw blood and death. This country was built on the conquered, no different from Tevinter.
The palace was just as over the top as the rest of the city. Large statues present the power and wealth of the Orlesian royal family. The stone steps immaculate even in the middle of a war for their entire way of life. She thought to the Winter Palace once such a place, merely built to rub the difference in stations. Now Halamshiral was filled with injured and mages. There was still the splendor but it was open for all to see and experience. The place belonged to the Dales, not to anyone person or family. Much of what was taken during the wars pushed out at both sides belonged to the people now. They were not protecting noble's interests of positions of power. The people of the Dales were protecting their brothers and sisters; their home.
Empress Celene was as cleanly dress and ready to entertain an important guest as any queen at war could be. Standing at her side was Briala, still in her green dress and ornate mask. They looked as if no war was waging outside their doors. The Warden still wore the silver armor and glowing paint. She had not bother to fix her hair, knowing that Briala likely already informed the Empress that it was not Elven spirits that drove her and Gaspard's armies out the Dales but rather a rogue Grey Warden. She was free of blood, since she had not gotten close to the fighting for some time.
"I am afraid I do not know how to address you." The empress spoke, her face and emotions covered by a mask. The air was stiffled; no one was comfortable.
"My People call me my Lady; my fighters call me Commander..." She tugged her hair free from where it had snagged on her armor. "You may call me As'lana, or Tabris if you'd like." She was fighting back the discomfort, eyes drifting to the two other women in the room thoughtfully. "I would like us to be allies, your grace, if not friends." The feeling in the room tensed for a moment before lightening.
"Friends? After you seized the Dales?" There was a tone of conversation to the Empress's words. She knew the battle for the Dales was lost; curiosity was the drive now. "I thought Wardens were not to be involved in politics." The Warden took in a breath, feeling the normal annoyance she felt when dealing with politic. There were right and wrong answers, often truth was wrong.
"I did not intend to take control of the Dales." She watched Celene's shoulders tense. She had not expected honesty. "I wanted to help the people suffering and in pain." As'lana took a step closer to the queen. "The Civil War was doing nothing good for the Commonfolk." Celene nodded, turned away for a moment, to think or in shame the Warden cared little to think of.
"I would thank you for helping the people of Orlais." The conversation switch gave The Warden a headache. She had not been sleeping well these passed six days, the uncertainty of a visit from Pride, the adrenaline of waiting for an attack. She was surprised she slept at all.
"I answered a call for aid." She smiled warmly, when Celene's mouth opened slightly in shock. "If anything should be learned about me from my actions in the Dales, it is that I will not ignore a call for help; if it is within my power to do something."
"Yes, Briala recounted your speech to me." There was silence. "I will keep my word. The Dales will face no conflict from Orlais." The Warden nodded, and a truce was reached. The Warden worked with Celene's generals and plotted out the best course of action against the invader. There were a few moments when she would have to remind them politely that without her and the forces for the Dales, Orlais would have fallen to Tevinter. She challenged six high ranking officers to duels of Honor, winning easily, before their opinions changed, or they learned to keep them to themselves. The armies mixed well enough, humans and elves of the Dales were polite if a bit cold, and the Orlesians were no different. Still nothing brings people together like fighting to protect does.
Tevinter lasted another three months in Orlais, with forces made up of the Orlesians and the Dales drove at them over and over. Resources from the Dales were imported in, feeding the armies and the commonfolk effected by the wars. By the end a treaty was reached and Tevinter pulled completely out of Orlais. Their cost for losing the war, was acknowledgement of Orlais and The Dales independence. Another force had been at work in Tevinter freeing slaves and encouraging discontent. The Dales grew each day with escaped slaved and other Dalish Clans.
In the end The Warden lost a quarter of her force, and Orlais more the half. Between the Civil War and the war with Tevinter, it would be some time before Orlais was able to fully recover. The Warden had been surprised when many of the humans that had been hiding in the Dales for safety decided to return to Orlais. The human Dalish made up less than a percent of their population when it was all said and done. For the first time since Orlais conquered the Dales, Elves had a homeland again.
Briala joined the Warden in returning to The Dales when the fighting ended. She proclaimed herself The Warden's spymaster. Felassan had disappeared at some point, but Briala wasn't worried. The Warden saw to the construction of the new country and its structure. Each Dalish Clan was giving space and their Keepers or representatives were given seats in the new ruling body. The country was mapped out into areas of population where the local communities would select someone to sit when the new body met. The Warden had been heavily against the idea of a king or queen, mostly because she was afraid, they would want her to take the position.
This took several years, and moved slowly. Until it was set in stone The Warden with the help of Briala ruled. They kept food growing and distributed, fighting to a minimum, and signed treaties with both Orlais and Ferelden in friendship and aid.
The first meeting of the new body was taking place, with The Warden overseeing it for a while longer. The Warden held the loyalty of many respected leaders in each community and found the hall filled with friends and comrades. The Dalish Clans grew in number since the founding of the reclaimed Dales. It had created some turmoil each time a new clan found their way to the country. The Warden made sure there was plenty of space available for each group, but it almost always involved mixing in elvens that were already there. Many wanted to learn the old ways, but some wanted to keep to Andraste and the Maker. These disputes would continue to happen for many years to come, as the country grew and adapted. Each group thankfully respected The Warden, and she knew that for the rest of her life, she would be involved in keeping peace in the country. Briala wanted her to remain in charge to a degree for at least ten more years. The Peace felt turbulent and there was a deep fear that without The Warden in charge fighting for power would divide the brand-new country.
Commonfolk felt comfortable relying on a noble or monarch to keep things flowing. The thought of a new system, close enough to Tevinter to give everyone pause. What was to stop the Keepers or local leaders from keep power and starting a new noble class. Who did they turn too when their leader abused his or her power? These were all questions posed to The Warden, and she did not have an answer. No system was perfect, but this was worth a chance.
The Meeting started simply enough. The treaties and much of the policies started by the Warden were kept. It was when someone suggested a role like the one the Warden had now, to be a deciding force that kept the arguments on the floor to a minimum that things turned down hill. The voices in the hall grew to mind numbing levels, everyone wanting to be heard. Finally, The Warden smashed a goblet into the ground startling everyone into silence.
"Enough! I suggest this body vote for a member to be elevated to a position that will oversee disputes between member of this body." She watched several faces twist in pleasure at her words. She had spoken to Briala a number of times over the years, about different solutions to problems with the house of leaders. She had blurted out the solution she agreed with the most. Struggling to keep her emotions in check as she saw more and more of the same expressions.
"I nominate As'lana Tabris take the position of overseeing this body." There was silence. Not of surpise, but the silence of a plan working out and everyone to overwhelmed to respond.
"Seconded." Eventually one of the Keepers called out. As'lana glared, it was the Keeper from the Fifth Blight. There was more silence, until everyone agreed with the nomination. As'lana watched this all happen in complete and utter dismay. She stole one glance at Briala who looked completely smug. The Warden mouthed the accusation that she had planned this. Briala just shrugged. The Elven spymaster had told her over and over that she wanted what was best for her people, and that currently was The Warden. With a sigh and a frown, The Warden accepted the position. The duties were a great reduction of her current activities, of which she was thankful.
Everything fell into place. The Commonfolk were relieved of The Warden's involvement, and the nobles of the other countries were pleased to have one who brought stability to the region in a position of power. The Warden was the only one who was no completely happy with the arrangement. Her only political task was to oversee the House of Leaders, as well as being an ambassador from time to time. She still found time to visit as many villages and settlements as possible. She enjoyed watching them move from tents to more permanent structures.
It was on one of these journeys that she encountered Felassan again. He had been traveling around the Dales with a few companions since the war in Orlais had ended, at least that was the rumors. He was an unique elf, and easily spotted. The Warden was visiting the latest Dalish clan to enter the Dales. The Warden tried to help as many as possible with resources and paths to return to their newly reclaimed homeland. The Clan had been somewhere in the Korcari Wilds, if what they claim was true. They had Vallaslin but like Felassan's it was different from any she had seen before. They would speak almost entirely in Elven to each other, avoiding common whenever possible. This had not gained them any friends from those that were around them. Many Elves that settled there had little to know knowledge of their ancestral tongue. The Warden was slowly teaching the language at the Winter Palace, turned school. A few at a time from each community, if they wished, were given a place to learn Elven culture from the Dalish.
"Hey-oh Felassan." She set her feet off her mount, eyes moving over the man standing beside him, watching her curiously. She had taken to wearing a basic tunic and leggings with a small sword at her hip. There were two knives hidden in the wraps around her shins and a bow strapped to Solas. The good-natured elf's expression was vastly different from those behind the two men. She took one look at them and frowned. The whole lot was Elvhen; this was going to be trouble was her only thought, returning her gaze to the two in front.
"Greeting your Grace." His smile giving away his joke.
"Not likely." She smirked. "Thought if everyone had a say, the story would be different." She patted her mount lightly, walking over to the old elf. "Did expect to see you again so soon." She glanced at the group watching behind him, and then to the man beside him. He was greyish violet eyes, a bald head, and ears similar to Felassan. He wore a green tunic, well-worn and basic leggings, much like her own. He had a wolf jaw necklace on a leather chain, as well as a mage staff at his back. Mages were allowed a great many freedoms they were not in other parts of the world. Fiona and her lot still occupied Skyhold and parts of the Winter Palace housed children. The Dales were not limited to elves, though that was the most common race found in it. There was a certain decorum however. Their magic was not to be used for violence against others or hunting. One mage had almost burned down a forest, which was why that rule existed. They had little issue otherwise with their magic user population.
"I wasn't about to stay away. Briala had been working toward this for some time. She'd spent hours speak of how she would build the Dales back up and create a home for her People." The Warden nodded, having experienced the enthusiasm of the spymaster more than once.
"I did not think you actually had a clan. Did Elvhen move in groups like the Dalish do?" The man next to him tensed, she glanced at his face and saw a mix of disgust and contempt before he schooled it.
"Some like that." Felassan rubbed the back of his head, eyes glancing concerned at his companions. "Where are my manners? As'lana Tabris meet my good friend Solas." There was a moment of silence. Felassan had his hand over his mouth, clearly fighting a laugh. As'lana was remembering the warning her friend gave her, and continued to remind her of whenever they spoke. Be wary of Pride.
"Solas? That's an unusual name." He didn't respond, his eyes searching her for something. "Do you find yourself to be particularly Prideful?" He continued to watch her silently; her judging him as harshly.
"Tell him the name of your mount." Felassan was red from the effort to not laugh. "Please." She smiled, finally understanding the joke.
"My pride." She turned her eyes on the mount who looked up at her attention, snorting before returning to his grass. "I named him Solas." Felassan lost it, doubled over with laughter. As'lana chuckled, but Solas looked unamused.
"It is good to see you." She pulled Felassan into a hug. When she pulled away his laughter turned into a mere smile. Solas watched them for a moment before speaking for the first time.
"You are not as I expected." She turned to him, giving the elf her full attention. She had never gotten along with Elvhen, with the exception of Felassan. They did not seem to want to get along with her either. This man was clearly going to be no exception.
"That could be a good or a bad thing." She tipped her head, finding the thoughtful expression familiar but unable to place it. "Which do you wish to imply?" She heard Felassan take in a breath. The men and woman around them took notice, but stayed back.
"It remains to be seen." His response had her laughing. The tension of the room, evaporated as she laughed hard enough to turn her own face bright red. Felassan looked on a confused smile on his face. Solas looked annoyed. She took several moments, palms pressed into her eyes, before she was gathered enough to speak.
"Oh Blighted Hell, that was exquisite." She chuckled again, eyes bright and watering from her laugh, hair twisted and loose around her head. With a large friendly smile, she offered him her hand. "I think I will come to be quite fond of you, Solas." She smirked when he didn't take her hand immediately, but didn't drop it. "Through you will never be my favorite Solas."
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A/n man this could have been so much longer, there was so much I wanted to write but didn't. This like my other one-shots will not have more added. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, if you enjoyed reading it half as much, I call it a win.