A.N: So, chapter 8 finally up. This chapter can be somewhat... unpleasant to read since it will depict Sin's time in the arl's dungeon. For those of you who find it difficult to read about issues such as abuse, you might want to... brace yourself a little.

I have to do a few shout outs to: everyone who has subscribed, added to faves, added me, reviewed and has had the patience to wait for this update! Thanks so much. ^^

My special shout out goes to Mm-Burnt-Toast-Mm for being my trusty reviewer! It has helped me immensely to keep my spirit up. Thank you!

Also to LatentFI for proofreading both this story and Tread Carefully For Memories Claimed My Soul and for being a great and supportive friend.

Well, I hope you like the chapter!

Enjoy and till next time!

~Elmjuniper

THE NEWCOMER

IGNORANCE. IGNORANCE WAS THE one way to shield oneself from the darker side of the underworld and the underworld wasn't always as exciting and exhilarating as it was sometimes described. It could be cruel and raw, and treat any life form with such disdain it was hard to believe that there was room for any humanity and love within the underworld. The underworld was full of snitchers, backstabbers and cheaters, ready to sell their mother for a fistful of coin. Trying to sort out whom to trust was sometimes a near impossible task. Yes, the underworld was a cruel and cold place and the only way to keep it from breaking one down was to use every ounce of ignorance one possessed, and the underworld was full of ignorance. Wherever you looked. In the streets of Highever where guilders would rob a noble man, at the Ruddy Tavern where girls were sold as mistresses in the dingy backrooms to any man who possessed a little coin, in the dark alleyways where a guilder trying to leave and start over was put through the gauntlet, beaten to death by his former comrades, and at the dungeons where slaves, and prisoners were beaten, abused, and raped. Ignorance also served as a comrade to trust, causing the downfall of many rogues. Thinking one could never get caught, or letting your skills get to your head was more than likely to make you sloppy and would eventually get you killed or caught or worst case scenario – both.

Sinniralin had always thought of herself as clever enough to never fall into that trap – she had grown certain of it in fact. That was perhaps why she didn't try to flee when Vaughan and his men had caught her. She knew she had brought it on herself. She had grown sloppy, ignorant of her weaknesses. She had known the minute she set foot in the dim lit, musty room that something was wrong, but there wasn't any time for her to flare her magic before a templar stepped out from the corner of the room, stunning her. Vaughan had circled her, groping himself as he watched her where she stood frozen to the ground like a marble statue. She tried to free herself from the mental chains restraining her, but the templar kept using his powers stripping her of magic. It couldn't have been just him though. One templar would not be enough to strip her of all her powers. Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to discern how many of Vaughan's men were in that room. She counted five : two mages, one templar and two soldiers.

"Belkin's elven bitch." Vaughan taunted her, holding up the parchment with her chore on. He chuckled, placing his filthy hands on her hips, pressing close to her.

"You know Belkin always fancied himself to be someone special, with all his women, constantly followed by his little elf wench. " He licked her cheek and she cringed wanting nothing more than to break free and unleash the darkness residing within her.

He sneered at her where she stood helplessly frozen to the ground. "Yes, even the nobles have heard of the great con master's fall. He stole more from us than we've been able to regain the past seven years. He even stole my mother's prized jewellery, had her crying for weeks. Not that I care much for that wench, but still, I think it's only fair I return the favour." He laughed his raw, condescending laughter, pressing his groin against her, whispering huskily. "Just imagine the things I'll do to you. It'll make him cringe in his grave." Then someone hit her across the back of her head and the world went black.

Waking up hours later in the wet and cold dungeon she found her hands tied to the wall above her head, her tunic and slacks torn and ripped to shreds, barely covering her body. Above her, water dripped from the dungeon ceiling landing on her head with thunderous splashes that reverberated through her skull. She cowered in shame and disgust as images of Vaughan's face looming over her, contorting as he claimed her as his prize, filled her mind.

She shivered in the cold darkness. Her body ached everywhere and she saw the bruises and bite marks on her breasts and thighs. Closing her eyes she shut the pain away, focusing on her magic, trying to flare it. Nothing happened and even though she knew the wetness and cold in the dungeons prevented her from using her magic, she tried pulling at it over and over again until she screamed out loud, trying to pull herself free from the ropes holding her in place. She heard the raw, distant laughter of the guards outside as her eyes landed on the lifeless corpse of a naked, young elven girl tied up on the opposite wall, her dead eyes staring out at her. She tugged at the ropes in frenzy until they cut into her flesh, drawing blood that slithered and twisted down her pale, cold skin. She cried until she fell into a sleep filled with nightmares, just to be awoken what seemed to be only moments later by the guards who dragged her out to be tortured and defiled. Some guards joined in, others wore a horrified disgusted look upon their face before turning their backs, shielding themselves with their ignorance, shutting her painful cries out.

She lost track of time and soon faces began to blur, some she recognized, some melted into faces from the past, and others simply slipped from her mind the minute they tossed her back into her cell again. Then one day a young man from Highever came to claim his part of this wondrous little treat the arl had stacked away in his dungeon. He was unbuttoning his trousers in the same manner they all did, eager to bury himself within a heated centre. Looking up he stopped when he saw her beaten and swollen face, her head held high in defiance.

"S-sinniralin?" He stammered.

She sneered. Little Tomy Ratchkin who worked as a kitchen servant at Arl Belenus estate before being recruited into the home guard.

"Never did I think I would live to see this day." She said wearily placing herself obediently on the worn out mattress.

The young man faltered. "I-I didn't know..." He swallowed thickly at the sight of her body.

She smiled sadly. It was amazing what a naked body could do to a man – and to some women as well for that matter, the thought of dominating it fully did even more so and Tomy like the rest of them made up a thousand excuses in his head and when that had been done he advanced on her sitting down in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She knew this game. In their head they made love to her. She played along with him.

"I have always admired you Sinniralin. And I care for you greatly. I'm not going to hurt you." He said licking his lips as he put his hand on her wrist, guiding her hand towards his hard shaft.

She did what he wanted her to do, drawing satisfied groans from his mouth.

"You are so... so..." He shut his eyes.

She leaned in towards his ears and breathed onto his earlobe, drawing another aroused groan from him before whispering. "Never close your eyes near a guilder with a dagger strapped to your waist."

Poor Tomy Ratchkin had no time to react: he didn't even have time to open his eyes before she had drawn his dagger and sliced his throat, had he done so he would have seen the sinister darkness swirling behind her peculiar blue eyes. He made a guttural noise, clutching at his throat, hot blood spraying her face. She chuckled and spat at his corpse before pulling his clothes off, dressing herself quickly.

"This is going to be fun." She said as she felt her skin become dry for the first time in weeks, her magic flaring to life within her once again strong and hungry for retribution. The first guard outside the door went down before he realized what was happening, hitting the cold stone floor with a loud clanking of heavy armour. He was still alive when she bent over him sneering.

"Please, my children..." He gasped.

She laughed wickedly enjoying his fear, feeling it replenish her strength. "Your children, your children." She cooed tauntingly. "Oh, your children will be taken care of have no doubt."

"You witch!" He cried out before she sunk the dagger's sharp blade into his chest, rage surging through her from the pain and anguish, the humiliation and torture she had been put through. She thrust her hand into to the cut burying it within his chest, clasping it around the thumping heat. As she ripped it out his eyes widened in pain, then they flickered and went from green to a paler shade of blue, his scream dying with him. She tossed the thick, blackened heart aside as she stood up, eyeing his pathetic corpse when she saw something blue shimmering from within the thin leather pouch strapped to his waist. Emptying the leather pouch she laughed as four vials of lyrium fell into the palm of her hand.

"This is going to be child's play..." She chimed in an eerie voice as she let the darkness engulf her.

.

.

The soft nudging from the Harpia's beak on her cheek startled her awake from the dream of those weeks she spent in the dungeons, where she sat by the campfire half asleep. She drew her breath, her head jerking upwards as she unsheathed her daggers instinctively.

"Are you alright?" The heavy Orlesian accent reached her ears and her mind swam back fully to reality, recognizing where she was.

"I'm fine I was..."

"Having a nightmare?" The redheaded bard looked at her with a concerned frown.

"I... yes." She answered truthfully, patting the bird absentmindedly. The dreams never left her, they sometimes let her rest for a night or two before they returned, full force, reminding her of what had happened to her. She rubbed her temples in an effort to block them out again. To ignore them. There was no point in dwelling on the past. The bird pressed itself close to her in a protective manner.

"It's ok Little Thug." She cooed soothingly.

"It seemed to be very real for you." Leliana said getting up from where she sat eyeing the strange couple.

"Yes, very much so." Sin replied wearily as she let her eyes follow the bard with her tired gaze.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The bard pressed carefully with her soothing voice offering to lend the elf her ear.

Sin smiled. "You are a true bard, Leliana, was it?"

Leliana blushed at the seductress who so clearly knew this game far better than any other rogue she had come upon, perhaps as well as Marjolaine. "I see I cannot persuade you to talk by just using my bardic ways, so I'm just going to offer you my... friendly support."

Sin studied her for a moment, the strict rules of survival in the underworld still lingered at the back of her head. Trust. No, she couldn't put her trust in this Orlesian bard who caused her such pain whenever she came near. She studied the Orlesian's face, following the jaw line to her cheekbones then to where eyes and eyelids became one, her steel grey eyes gazing back at Sin quizzically. For a slight moment Sin felt a strange tugging in her chest almost as if pulled towards the bard by an invisible force. At first it was faint, then it grew stronger and with it the darkness within her burst to life wanting to erupt and overtake her, reach out for the bard and... Kill her! A sharp voice hissed to her. Sinniralin blinked in confusion as she tore her eyes away from the bard who seemed to have picked up on the strange connection, her eyes flickering insecurely.

"It is just... memories from an earlier life." Sin answered evasively still shaken by the cold voice in her head.

"Yes, I see. I think I understand." Leliana answered as she moved over to the small pile of fire wood.

Sinniralin let her gaze follow the strange bard as she leant over to pick up some fire wood, and the small amulet that hung from her neck swung out from the bard's leather amour. Sin squinted her eyes studying it. "Maker forgive your tres..." she read before the bard lifted her head smiling.

"You know the prayer?" She asked mirthfully, happy at the change of subject.

"I, no, I wouldn't say that, I just noticed your amulet." Sin replied.

"This one?" Leliana pulled it off her neck and tossed it towards Sin whose eyes widened in pain and fear as she reeled backwards away from it, flying to her feet.

"I just remembered there was something I had to do, please excuse me." She said spinning on her heels, disappearing into to the woods leaving the much confused bard standing. The big Harpia picked up the amulet and hopped up to her, dropping it on the ground at a safe distance. It glared at her before taking off into the night sky.

"I see you're chasing away our new comrade in arms with your charms." The witch said playfully as she came up towards the bard.

"I wasn't..." Leliana answered in confusion. There was something about the elf, something wicked and sinister. She had felt it when the elf had studied her. For a slight moment it felt as if... no, she had to be wrong. Why would the elf want to hurt her?

"I see you have found a new object of your infatuation." The witch continued to goad the bard who simply answered her with a cold silence. "I don't blame you though, she is most... unusual." Morrigan's eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"There is definitely something... odd about her." Alistair filled in, announcing his presence.

"Even more than what you think about Zevran?" Deanna emerged from the shrubbery holding two hares in her hand, giving them a reprimanding look.

"We... err... didn't mean to." Leliana stuttered a little awkwardly. She still hadn't quite figured out what kind of relationship the warden and the seductress had to each other. She wondered though. Sometimes it seemed as if the elf was avoiding Deanna as much as she was avoiding the bard. She frowned.

"I know you don't trust her yet, but you should give her the benefit of the doubt. She has not hurt any of you no more than what Zevran managed to." Deanna said seriously as she sat down.

"Eh, she poisoned us, remember?" Alistair pointed out.

"No, Deanna is right." The bard said shaking her head a little. "No one but the Maker can judge us."

"Is she always this preachy?" Sinniralin said as she stepped out from the shadows holding a wooden bowl in her hand, placing herself next to Deanna.

The bard shot her an indignant look. "I'm not preachy... why... are you always this rude?" She retorted stubbornly at the elf who laughed heartily at her.

"Well she is a lay sister." Alistair pointed out a little too gleefully.

"Like you should be talking, little templar boy." Leliana raised her eyebrow challengingly at the templar warden who blushed slightly.

"Wow Deanna, you've really picked yourself quite an... interesting group of people."

"Actually the only ones I've picked are Leliana and Zevran - the other ones were kind of a packaged deal." Deanna answered, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Hey!" Alistair protested as the rest of them fell into a friendly laughter before Deanna turned towards the elf.

"I must talk to you." She said looking serious.

"Very well, let's do so." Sin said standing up to follow the warden.

.

.

"How do you suppose they know each other?" Alistair asked as he studied the two women standing by the edge of the camp, too consumed by their private discussion to notice the companions observing them.

"Perhaps from Highever? An old friend?" Leliana suggested as she chewed thoughtfully on her bread.

"Yes, but she's a Guilder." He said in a childlike manner.

The bard chuckled. "Yes Alistair that she is indeed. Why does that shock you? The nobles and highborn are the most common patrons." She pointed out studying the newcomer with great interest. How did they know each other? By the looks of it, the small touches, the exchanging of bashful, sly looks, they had exchanged over the past days, they knew each other well. It was a curious thing. Even if a noble paid the guild to have a chore completed, it was rare that they had any bonds between them. And what kind of bond was it that they had? If Sinniralin knew Deanna at Highever, she must know what she was like before she became a grey warden.

Her eyes fell on the blonde warden. She was as lovely looking as she was as a person. Leliana had to admit she had been smitten with the young woman who led this strange group. She had not shown it however, suspecting that the warden would simply not be interested in such dalliance. Deanna had also shown a great interest in the templar boy and so she had decided not to get hurt again. There had been... too much of that. Looking over to the white-skinned elf she huffed.

"Is she always this preachy?"

"The audacity." She muttered to herself as she thought about the elf's words, though she found herself smiling at the small banter nonetheless. It wasn't the most usual thing ever that the lovely seductress indulged in a conversation with the bard, so Leliana figured she might as well see it as a small victory. There was something about Sinniralin. The elf annoyed her greatly with her evasiveness and nonchalant attitude, and why did she always seem to avoid her? Still at the same time she fascinated her, and the elf's exquisite looks had not gone unnoticed by the bard's meticulous eyes, it had in fact – much to her annoyance - piqued her interest even more.

The elf's wavy, white hair reached down to her waist and during the past days Leliana had noticed how Sin often put it up in various constellations, always framing her face perfectly. Tonight she had not bothered with it, and it washed across her shoulders. She wore a low cut, loose fitting, linen tunic, revealing both her sleek, smooth-looking shoulders, and a lovely cleavage, and the bard was not the only one who had noticed it. The templar had flushed fiercely earlier that day when Morrigan had commented on his staring at the seductress' chest as if he had never seen a pair of breasts before. Leliana had giggled to herself thinking that he was probably blushing more from the fact that he indeed never had, rather than being caught ogling Sin's daring cleavage.

The elf wore a silver chain around her neck with a beautiful charm hanging from it, and the bard found herself wondering quietly what the symbols on it read. The bard's eyes rested on the elf's pointy ears from which two large silver hoops hung. Leliana couldn't imagine how the elf was not frightened that they might be ripped off in battle. She shuddered at the thought. They did however make her look even more stunning, and when the elf smiled her crooked, sultry smile she had no doubt Sin could snare both kings and queens in her web. Leliana had manipulated many of her victims with flattery, her sensuality, and when it called for it even her skills when it came to satisfying her victims before... releasing them from this world, but she had never possessed the alluring, mysterious appearance Sin did. Perhaps it was the way her looks stood out?

She studied Sin for a moment longer wondering what it was with her that felt so dark and ominous. Perhaps it was the ways of the seductress, always alluring and sensual, still dangerous? That still didn't explain why she seemed to avoid her as if she was the blight herself.

Maybe Sinniralin just didn't like the Chantry? It was not uncommon for people who did not believe to be quite condescending towards lay people and followers of the Chantry. She thought about the elf's strange reaction to her medal, maybe she had had an unpleasant experience with the Chantry? The Chantry had after all been responsible for the second fall of Elvhenan. Maybe that was it? Or maybe it was her Orlesian background? She chewed her lip thoughtfully. When she first arrived in Lothering many of the residents had been wary of her, and she ha d even experienced the occasional verbal abuse when people who still had the Orlesian occupation fresh in their mind heard her heavy accent. She had tried to tone it down, but found it made her sound even stranger, so she decided to take whatever reaction she received with as much compassion she could. Besides the Maker had made her this way, no? Who was she to change what he had given her?

Her mind drifted back to the elf and she watched her as she talked to the warden. The elf seemed tense and rigid. Her posture was not as relaxed as it usually was and she gestured – not angrily, but still upset, with her hands. Deanna's face looked angry, or sad, Leliana had not yet spent enough time with the warden to be certain. Their discussion wasn't heated, but it seemed to be... emotional. She knit her brows together. Whatever relationship they had to each other, it seemed they had some things to sort out...

.

.

"Where did you go?" Deanna inquired when they had ventured off to a safe distance from the campfire.

"Well that my dear all depends on what you're referring to." Sin said suavely.

"Don't play games with me Sin." Deanna snapped. "I went looking for you, but you had left. You just left Sin, no explanation, no nothing."

The elf turned serious. "What was there to explain Deanna? You made your choice, it was not my duty to stand idly by and watch it."

"But you could have said something." The warden insisted feeling the heat of anger build up inside her.

"Said what?" Sin asked in frustration. "That I loved you? That you took my heart and cast it aside like some dockside whore. No Deanna, I do have some dignity. You had already made up your mind. I could only..." Her words got stuck in her throat and she turned her face away.

"Loved?" the teryness inquired, looking into the elf's eyes for answers.

Sin shifted before meeting her gaze. Then she simply shook her head and left the warden standing.

TO BE CONTINUED...