Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.
Author's note: Again, random filler chapter because I wanted Shianni to make an appearance.
In this chapter: Family gets to ask everything. Really. Even that you'd rather they don't.
007.
When a child, Shianni had been as certain of her future as she was of the existence of the Tree of the Alienage every time she stepped out of her house. Just as she knew her brother was a crybaby and her cousin had a penchant for fantasy stories only rivaled by her own for war stories and heroes. She was the leader of their band, the tomboy extraordinaire, constantly jumping walls and climbing trees like her life depended on it. Dresses, dolls, why would they matter? Tasha liked those. Soris liked figurines. Shianni liked wooden sticks and make-shift weapons. They were kids in a world contained by grey walls and that was just right.
Then the future became present and dresses were forgotten, shovels replacing figurines and weapons were divided and shared. They changed little. Soris was still inconstant, shining, always happy, shifting from one thing to another because everything would become boring. His sister was still the stubborn one. Walk forward, call attention, support and act, those were the things in which she thrived. She liked protection, she enjoyed the fight, even if without weapons. To bend was for others. And Tasha was the person right behind her, stating her opinion but, in the end, doing exactly what she was supposed to do.
Things do change though. Andraste shrugs, the Maker sneezes, the world tilts on its axis and, out of the blue, she has a whirlwind for a cousin.
First, she raids the palace and Shianni's gratitude has no bounds. She turns into a Warden and news of her death are steadfast and too repeated to be ignored. Only her very mortal ghost shows months after, blades in her hands and a will to not be denied that's definitely novelty. A destroyed city, a dead dragon, her – of all people – made into a Bann and a noble replacing her non-existent wedding ring. Maker above, she has to wonder just what Tasha will dare to do next. Find the Dalish, establish the Dales once more? It seems probable, if not likely.
Shianni's sure her cousin can't see the differences between both of her selves.
Tasha stands near the king and the noble, gleaming in the silver armor which she has been carrying around like a second skin. Her hair is longer, brushed but cut hazardously with a dagger, already covered in dust from the road. Tanning skin and getting darker by the day, a soft smile that seems permanent – happy, almost childish – as she places two swords on her back. Movements so casual that make them seem jewelry, clothes, something a more normal woman would use.
The Tasha she knew loved the Alienage – even with all its faults – and remained behind as support. Only she now walks in a way that shows the paths they walk are no unknown. Goes back and forth between the different groups, mingles like noble born, always with a trailing Mabari by her feet. And Shianni's cousin is hidden underneath the Warden, so deep that the girl can only see it sparsely. A slap on the back of Soris' head, a kiss on Cyrion's cheek, inner jokes no human would get.
Shianni can't be prouder. Still. Still, where does that leave her now that her cousin is strong enough to stand by herself?
An armored arm takes her own carefully, trying not to harm her in the process. Suddenly, there's her Tasha all over again, armored, plated and armed like there's no tomorrow. "You've been so quiet, cousin. I'm sorry for dragging you this far."
Not more than Soris. That one's so afraid of saying anything wrong all over again that he barely whispers. She made sure he was. Dumb kid. They help him out and he dishes everything cowards did on them both? Really? No, better him to fear her and keep quiet. Order in her house, then the Bannorn. Bannorn. The idea's still laughable. And about leaving, well, anxiety doesn't bother her if she gets to see something else, learn something more. Tasha sounds serious though. Apologetic.
"It was necessary," she continues, her armor clinging a little uncomfortably against her flesh. "Teagan will be made Arl soon enough. To have him marry an elf is already enough of a regret for his people. To have him marry outside Redcliffe, it would be enough for an uprising."
"You don't have to worry about me." The issue is waved off and Shianni decides, there and then, that she won't have her cousin speaking to her as if she's one of the others. She's more. She's blood and family and her Tasha's definitely somewhere underneath. "A question though?" Her head turns slightly to the side, a tiny twisted smile because she is her cousin, she can do this. No one else will. "Why haven't you slept with the man yet?"
The elf underneath the Warden and the Warden herself stumble over nothing, almost dragging them both headfirst into the rocks beneath their feet.
"Seriously," Shianni continues airily. Oh look, he's listening in. A shame, really. "Do you need permission to jump his bones or something? Dear Maker, it's given freely, just get to it."
A gauntleted hand tries to silence her but it's the same as trying to stop time.
"I thought you didn't even like him!" Her cousin hisses, trying to keep the discussion between them. A futile effort. The assassin has a leer strong enough to be seen by all of Denerim and they have already passed Amaranthine a good week before. And the dwarf who snickers, the mage warden turning so red that it's a wonder he's not bursting into flames right into the path. Of course, the man himself. If his mind isn't directly in dark depraved places, she is a Qunari.
"Don't like his race, almost all of it. He's not so bad. Just see." Wide wave with her free hand. "That's a fine ass."
His time to stumble. Maker, this is sort of fun. She should have done it before, perhaps even in front of Soris. It might make him laugh, push him out of his frightened repentant state.
"Cousin!"
"Fine rear end."
Distaste that's little more than a show and laughter just below the surface. The whirlwind stops and reacts just like the cousin Shianni knows, chuckles hidden on her fabric covered shoulder.
"You are an awful person. He's listening in, you know?" Making a poor show of not doing so too.
"I can see that. I should ask him the same question." Teagan makes a small detour and delves directly into conversation with Mother Boann. Maybe later. "And so is uncle. How can I still shock him when he found us arriving drunk and falling asleep under the table?"
Shianni can't be her shield anymore, can't be the front of battle. However, she can always remember her cousin where she comes from. Be her connection and roots. Or, generally, a person who can still get under her skin, make her act younger or just bother her. Family does that.
"I seem to think there are stories here that have yet to be shared," Zevran intervenes literally from nowhere, leer lightened to a mild gaze filled with innuendo, her other arm taken with just as much permission. "What is this about drinking all night?"
The Warden keeps her head well hidden and her laughter vibrates through Shianni's body like water.
"Try climbing roofs like that. In skirts. All three of us."
So does her cousin.