Ch. 2: A Tense Moment

The brown-skinned youth offered a small wave as he greeted the older elves. His wave went unnoticed as the three of them were preoccupied. Uncle Surana was focused on his toy-carving, while Dilwyn and Gethon were in another argument.

"Well, it's around the eyes, mostly," Dilwyn explained as Darrian came closer.

"I still don't see it," Gethon countered, "Whenever I look, I just see the mother."

"The mother was far more delicate," the elderly woman insisted.

Her husband matched her stubbornness. "It's the same sort of nose, you must admit. The breeding shows..."

Darrian thought of his small nose, the one he shared with his mother, and realized that the old couple was talking about him.

Dilwyn sighed. "There you go again with breeding. We're not horses, you know."

Gethon shook his head. "Of course not, but bloodlines are important. That's all I'm saying."

"I think the whole notion is ridiculous."

"Well, you have the freedom to think so. You come from good stock," Gethon snuck in before Darrian finally grabbed their attention, snapping his fingers.

"Well, it's the lucky groom, himself. Hello, dear," Dilwyn greeted him, her greeting as warm and bright as her yellow dress was.

"Now, love," Gethon chided, "He probably doesn't remember us."

"Oh, of course. I'm Dilwyn and this is Gethon. We were friends of your mother's. We haven't seen much of you since she...well..." Dilwyn uncomfortably trailed off.

"Father never mentioned you," Darrian bluntly revealed. He found out about them through others. In a small place like the Alienage, it was hard not to know everyone. The only reason Darrian had yet to approach the old couple was out of fear for his father's reaction. Until the wedding was announced, his father had said few words about Adaia, stomaching only the occasional question. Once when his father had found Darrian talking to Uncle Surana about his mother, the two friends had broken out in a harsh argument. Darrian had never seen his father so furious and since that time, Darrian had kept his questions few and far in-between and given only to his father.

"No, he wouldn't, I suppose," Gethon muttered. The old man glanced at Nelaros Surana. "At least you can spend as much time with the boy as you want."

The toy-maker finally noticed Darrian and offered a small, weary smile. He held the half-finished carving up for the younger elf to see. Four hooved legs stood out of a block of wood. "Good day Darrian. I hope to have this little halla finished by the time your future wife is with child."

Darrian nodded to the family friend; however his eyes were locked on the future toy. He knew 'Uncle' Surana hadn't meant to shock him, but the idea of him being a father before next year caught him off-guard. Everything is happening so fast. Marriage? Children? All I want to do is live life with no one telling me what to do and kill the bastards who murdered mother.

Dilwyn must have noticed. "Don't worry, Darrian. So long as you are here, you'll never have to worry about raising a family by yourself."

Her husband quickly added as he swept a hand over the Alienage. "That's right. We elves have to look out for each other. We're all family, and you can ask any of us for help. Our community has never abandoned one of our own." Gethon redirected his attention on the young elf. "It was the same with your mother and yourself. As full of life as your mother was, there were times when she needed our help too. Even then, she wanted you more than anything. It's sad that she never saw you all grown up"

His wife wore a rueful smile as old memories awoke within her. "We just wanted to see you today and express our good wishes."

The Tabris nodded as he listened to every word about Adaia. "Thank you."

Gethon wasn't quite finished as he pulled a small pouch off of his belt. "We've saved a bit of money for this day. We'd...we'd like you to have it to help start your new life." He finished as he offered the pouch to Darrian.

Darrian stared uneasily at the tiny bag. To live to an elderly age was a blessing and a curse. On the right hand, few people lived to such a point and it spoke of wisdom or wit to live that long. On the left hand, unless you were rich, most old people had worn out bodies and needed constant care to keep going, and that included money. If he accepted this, it meant more hardship on the old couple.

His hand closed on the pouch when he realized something else, it was disrespectful to reject a gift, and since these two were good friends to his mother, Darrian had no desire to insult them. "That's very generous of you," he proclaimed even as the weight in his hand told him of the few coins within.

Gethon smiled down at him. "Maker bless you."

Darrian waved them good-bye as he returned to his stroll, rounding around the large tree. He spied Taeodor on the other side, but the elf hadn't seen Soris either and asked that Darrian bring him over once found. Past Taeodor was a shop Darrian and Soris visited often, but Darrian knew Soris wouldn't be there. Thanks to the festivities, plenty of elves chatted and lingered around and if Soris was as nervous as Darrian suspected, his cousin would be searching for an emptier spot to stew in his nerves.

Going in the opposite direction of the shop, Darrian walked along a path that led to the Alienage's rear entrance. Not a minute passed before he found his cousin leaning against a sickly tree. He would have been an example of calm were it not for the tapping of his foot at three thousand taps per hour. He also couldn't stop fidgeting with his black locks, even though his hair was shorter than Darrian's.

"Well, if it isn't my lucky cousin," Soris greeted, his voice smooth and strong. "Care to celebrate the end of our independence together?"

Darrian wasn't fooled for a moment. "Getting cold feet, Soris?"

"Are you surprised?" the elven youth retorted, open anxiety laced in his tone. "Apparently, your bride's a dream come true. Mine sounds like a dying mouse."

"Maybe you'll get a cage for a wedding present," Darrian smirked.

Soris laughed loudly even as he shook his head. "That's terrible." He threw his attention back to toward the Alienage's center. "Let's go introduce you to your dreamy betrothed before you say 'I do'."

Darrian idly glanced at Soris' head. "You might want to stop pulling at your hair before you turn bald."

Soris' hand froze before he threw a knowing look at Darrian. "Yeah? And you might want your fingers stop twitching over your sides. I'll assume your father took away your knives for the day."

Damn it, Darrian swore as he noticed his own nervous tic. He abruptly balled his hands into fists to keep them still. "The sooner we're done with this day, the better. Oh, and Taeodor wants to see you."

Since Taeodor was Soris' friend, Darrian only nodded when he was spoken to while studying the bunched-up buildings for escape routes. The shop looked like a solid candidate with its many windows and awnings to climb up on. His attention only returned to the conversation when Taeodor revealed that his brothers had fled the Alienage to seek out the Dalish.

The Dalish. Darrian glanced up at the clear sky. Unlike the poverty and the grime the city elves had to deal with, the Dalish were supposedly free of both humans and their laws. Outside the stone walls of the human cities, they traveled through the wilderness on secret paths only known among their tribesmen. None knew how to track them for, legends had it, they practiced their own kind of magic that left templars and human hunters witless. Finally, they were the guardians of lost elven lore and secrets. Darrian turned his gaze on the old tree, the Vhenadahl.

The day his mother was murdered by the humans, he thought of fleeing Denerim forever and joining the Dalish. He was furious with the humans, but more enraged by his father's cowardice for not striking back. If this hadn't been the only life he had known, who's to say that he couldn't have been a Dalish by now? A master of the bow and raiding caravans with fat merchants who'd reaped their fortunes off the back of his people.

He snorted. Foolish dreams and nothing more. If I am to ever avenge mother, I need to be here. Taeodor finished his talk with Soris, wishing them both well before leaving. The grooms made their way around the huge tree, passing by an elvish family packing their few possessions into a wagon. Darrian recognized the youngest one, Nessa, a girl his age. Her family ran a small clothing shop out of their home in the Alienage, Darrian saw some, actually, all of their wares packed into half the wagon.

Before he could ask Nessa what was going on, Soris whispered, "That's them!"

Darrian's head whipped around before he noticed the group of women ahead of them. He recognized Shianni and Kallian mingling with other elven women, Kallian sticking out among them for her very human features, the full figure, the smaller ears. Before he could spot his bride, another group approached from behind them.

"Uh oh," Soris mumbled as the new arrivals, three human men dressed in rich clothing, began to cause havoc as one of them groped one unsuspecting elven maiden. The human, a tall man wearing a gold and red doublet, stood out as the leader as he directed his boys to 'grab a whore and have a good time'.

Darrian's hand snapped to his side only to be reminded yet again that he was unarmed. A fact he cursed at length. Another elf pleaded with the human lord for peace and received a slap for his polite request that knocked him off his feet.

Soris glanced between his cousin and the harassing louts. "I know what you're thinking, but maybe we shouldn't get involved."

"I won't let these humans abuse our women," Darrian seethed.

Tense acceptance descended on his cousin. "Fine. But let's try to be diplomatic about this, shall we?"

In Darrian's mind, the only diplomacy he needed was at the end of a knife's blade. He strode toward the human lordling that was now leering over Shianni. Unlike the other maiden, Shianni didn't respond meekly but threatened the blond man. Her defiance only amused the human. His attention diverted to Darrian and Soris, his arrogant smirk still glued on his face. "What's this?" he said in mock respect, "the two grooms come to welcome me personally?"

Darrian's words flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to think them over. "Human scum! You'll regret what you've done here!"

The insult was brushed aside by a scoff. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"A dead man." Rather, that was what Darrian was going to say. Until he noticed Shianni approaching the human lord from behind with a glass bottle. At his side, Soris shook his hands as he tried to keep her away.

The lordling noticed Soris' frantic gesture and turned, just in time to see the bottle smash into his forehead. The blow was strong enough to render the human unconscious, toppling into the mud. Darrian grinned at the fallen foe. "Serves you right."

The lord's companions were not as amused. "Are you insane!?" cried one of them, "This is Vaughan Kendells, the arl of Denerim's son!"

Darrian aimed his grin at them, popping his knuckles. "Then just imagine what we'll do to you two."

The other lordling sneered. "You've got a lot of nerve, knife-ears. This'll go badly for you." The man bent over and picked up his friend and the two of them left the Alienage. Darrian couldn't remember the last time he felt so satisfied.

Shianni did not share in his good mood. "Oh, I really messed up this time."

Kallian stepped up to her from out of a small crowd of onlookers who had been quietly watching the bout. "I don't blame you for what you did. That man was a pig."

"It'll be alright," Soris added, "He won't tell anyone an elven woman took him down."

Shianni glanced fearfully where the noblemen had retreated out of sight. "I hope so. I should go get cleaned up."

"I'll help you," Kallian offered. The two cousins walked away with the crowd dispersing a moment later, some of the elves muttering dark things about the incident.

Cowards, Darrian spat at the crowd. We'd be taken more seriously if we didn't simply bend over backwards to make our human lords happy.

Soris glanced over the few who remained. "Is everyone alright?"

A brunette with a mousy face answered him, "I think we're just shaken. What was that about?"

Soris nervously laughed. "Looks like the arl's son started drinking too early." He tugged on Darrian's sleeve until his cousin turned around. "Um, well, let's not ruin this day. Uh, this is Valora, my betrothed."

Darrian spared Valora a glanced before his eyes jerked to the woman standing next to her. Years of growing up with the same girls he saw day in and day out had led Darrian to believe that there wasn't a woman alive who could catch his eye. The beautiful vision standing before quietly undid that notion. Wearing a white dress with encrusted colorful stones and a matching necklace, the beauty smiled at him.

After a long moment, Soris elbowed him. Right! I should say something! "And, uh, your companion is mine? Er, my betrothed?"

His betrothed bowed her head toward him. "Pleased to meet you. Soris has said much of you - some of it even positive," she twittered.

She has some wit behind underneath those golden tresses, gyah! Why am I trying to sound like a bard?

Unaware of Darrian's internal confusion, Soris chuckled. "Don't get me in trouble, Nesiara. We'll leave you two alone, now."

Darrian had to resist a knee-jerk reaction to grab ahold of Soris to prevent him from leaving. He feared he wouldn't keep his yap shut and there was already plenty of strange words running around his head. But Soris was already gone and Darrian did his best to stomp on the unusual thoughts running through his mind.

With her future husband locked in mental struggle, Nesiara took the initiative. "Well, here we are… are you nervous?"

"N-not really," Darrian replied, cringing as he rattled his own words. It didn't help that his eyes had started to stray. The top of Nesiara's dress came up only a few inches above her breasts, revealing so much fair skin around her neck and shoulders. He wondered just how easily it would be to pull the hem lower and… "You?" he mumbled as he remembered that he was supposed to be talking to her.

Nesiara either didn't notice or mercifully didn't comment about Darrian's distracted state. "I was nervous on the trip down, but now that I'm here, I'm looking forward to what's next."

Me too! He nearly blurted. Bah! I need to think about something else. Knives, daggers, parry, dodge, thrust, thrust, and thru- no, not helping! Darrian scrambled for his next question. "So, er, how was the trip from Highever?"

"Uneventful, thankfully," Nesiara replied with a grin. "The trade caravan we accompanied had little of value, and a company of Highever troops marched with us. Between the two, I think that was more than enough to scare away any bandits."

Before the tantalizing conversation could continue, Soris rudely interrupted, "Come on, cousin. We should let them get ready."

Ready? Darrian glanced over his bride-to-be. What else can you do to make her ready? But control of the conversation steered away from him as the mouse lady echoed Soris' sentiment. "We'll see you two in a bit. Don't disappear on us."

"Or we'll hunt you down!" Nesiara declared with a lively laugh.

Before Darrian could sputter an answer, the two ladies walked toward the center of the Alienage. Well, the mouse walked. Nesiara was doing something far more interesting than plain walking, but Darrian didn't know how to describe it. "She's got spirit," he mumbled happily.

Soris rolled his eyes. "I told you that she was a dream come true. But enough of that. We have another problem."

Immediately, Darrian's thoughts grew sterner as he looked to his cousin. "Is it Vaughan? Has he returned?"

"Two more humans have walked in. Worse, they have a Mabari warhound. Could be Vaughan's men or random troublemakers." Soris nodded toward the opposite side of the Alienage square. On the other side of the Tree of the People stood the trio. One man was well-armed and armored with skin as dark as Darrian's. His companion was a fair-skinned young man dressed like a noble. Beside the youth was the Mabari, his snout opened wide in a doggy grin while his tongue dangled out.

Darrian's eyes narrowed at them. "We'll talk to them, but only after I get my knives."