Author's Note: A whole lot of reworking has been done since the first chapter regarding the Qunari protagonist of this series of drabbles thanks to lots of new info about the game (and in particular the PC characters). Thank you again to anyone still reading these (and especially for those leaving comments and favoriting), it means a lot to know someone other than myself is interested in all of this. :)
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Saare'Hissra Adaar would always be a foreigner in the eyes of strangers. Despite all her knowledge of tomes and legends, despite the fact that she'd spent a vast majority of her 38 years on Thedas traveling from one end of the known world to the other, she would never be known as a Rivaini, or a Ferelden, or an Orleasian, but as a Qunari. A beast. Creature, monster, bullwoman, anything other than a person others could relate to. She'd accepted it early on, after she'd had enough growth spurts to not only tower over the children her age but also her human mentor, when her horns became too big to cover with a hood, when she'd mend the most recent tears in her too small clothes at night by the moonlight in a hidden camp. Granted, the acceptance hadn't come easy, but when people screamed at the sight of your shadow and shouted words like 'demon' you'd understand that accepting it saved you a lot of pain in the long run.

"People are fools, Hissra." Raskin had once said. The words had come unprompted, when the two were sitting by the fire in their most recent camp. The sudden noise had caused her to poke herself with the needle she'd been mending with. "They believe too readily that the world is black and white." He stared at her, firelight gleaming in his brown eyes as he puffed at the pipe between his teeth. "The most sinister of villains can be redeemed just as easily as the most noble of heroes can be forever tainted by sin."

"Oh… okay." She could only blink and look back down at the cloth in her hands, at the speck of blood that welled up on her finger. He sighed, rubbing his chin through his graying beard.

"I heard those rather loud women in the marketplace earlier. You're not the only one who notices how crowds part for us, you know." That explained it. "Despite what others may believe, you're not a monster. People are fools for thinking so. Eventually, you'll meet people who truly understand that looks can be deceiving." He puffed at his pipe a few more times before shaking the spent tobacco from it and standing with a grunt. "Though I can't guarantee they'll be half as good looking as myself." He ruffled the hair between her horns with his usual rough affection as he limped awkwardly towards his tent. "Don't forget to put out the fire when you're done." She didn't finish mending the trousers she'd been working on that night, suddenly too busy mulling over what the old man had said. The important parts anyway.

Over a decade later she thought she'd finally found these illusive, accepting strangers when she joined the Valo-kas mercenary company. They had to accept her; they were Qunari, after all. But she was a mage, a Saarebas; a very real, very present danger in the eyes of her new comrades. Not only that, but she'd been raised and trained by a human of all things. In their eyes that made her even less welcome. She was a foreigner even among her own people. The word Saarebas was used so often behind her back that she added the important part to her name; Saare'Hissra. For 11 long years she was forced to tread the thin line separating fear and respect, a feat that she found she was rather good at; keeping her head down and following orders proved to be the perfect way to gain the respect of her commanders, even if it proved to be difficult through all the insults. And then she was finally rewarded with a job she was uniquely suited for; the Chantry Conclave.

It would've gone so well, if not for the explosion that sent her into the Fade. It had utterly destroyed everything and everyone at that meeting… except for her. There she was, lying on the ground, unable to breath and with an utterly excruciating pain in her left hand, feeling like the unluckiest person in all of Thedas. She wondered where it had all gone so wrong, how the Maker or the Creators or the Old Gods or whoever could punish her like this. And then, just as suddenly as the damned explosion had destroyed her life, it gave her another.
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"Quizzy!" The door to the Inquisitor's office flew open with a great bang. Saare'Hissra's eyes shot open as she sat up rigidly, fists clenching around the papers scattered across her desk.

"I swear, I was just resting my eyes!" She shouted, hurriedly shifting the crumpled and torn papers in her hands from one side of the desk to the other. After a few seconds she looked up, shoulders sagging when she finally noticed the blonde elf who'd woken her up. "Oh, thank the Gods, it's just you." The smaller woman let out a bark of laughter as she sauntered over to the desk.

"Oh yeah, it's 'just me' alright." Sera replied, peeling a piece of parchment from the Qunari's face that she hadn't noticed. "Hah, Josie's gonna kill you." The Inquisitor groaned, rubbing her eyes.

"I know. I've been putting off all this damn paperwork for too long, if I don't finish it now… well, I really don't want to test Josephine's patience any harder then I already have."

"Yeah, yeah, that's great. You-" Sera jabbed a finger into the Qunari's nose. "Need to get down to the bar." Adaar stared at her blankly.

"You… did you not just hear what I said?"

"Don't care, you need to be in on this." Grabbing a fist full of collar, Sera began pulling the taller woman up. "Bull and Varric are betting that we can't out drink 'em."

"Sera-"

"Don't care, I'm not losing because you decided to put off your work." Sighing in mock defeat, the Inquisitor stood, stretched and followed the smaller woman out of the room with the faintest hint of a smile.

Saare'Hissra Adaar would always be a foreigner in the eyes of strangers, but at least she was right at home in the eyes of her friends.