Raviathan smelled wine as a light kiss brushed his cheek. "Wake up, cousin. You remember what day it is?"

"Get drunk before noon day, isn't it?" Raviathan murmured.

Shianni snuggled against his back. "Silly. Can't remember the last time you slept late. Soris is already dressed."

"You two have had breakfast?"

"Like an hour ago," Shianni said with a laugh. Her laugh was light and warm. Like her.

"Why'd you let me sleep so late?" Raviathan sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Thought you might need it. After all, you're going to be up late tonight."

Raviathan returned his cousin's impish grin and kissed her. "Go enjoy your wine while you can."

She left him to eat a simple breakfast of toast and tea. Feeling soft from sleep, Raviathan enjoyed the quiet meditation of eating alone in the morning. He was stepping into his own life, making his own choices. Tomorrow, he would wake with his wife in his arms, and she would finally learn everything about him, about his family. She would learn why they had escaped the Tevinter slavers, the struggles he and his family had lived with, the dangers their children might face. Would she be able to hold their secrets? He had no fear of his wedding day, but tomorrow was another matter. Would she feel betrayed? Maker, please let her understand. I had no choice. I was born with this legacy. Let her understand that I love her, and nothing will change that.

After breakfast, Soris arrived and the two dressed together for their shared day.

"I never thought I'd touch silk let alone wear it," Soris said, his small smile doing nothing to hide his nervousness.

These were the finest clothes they would ever wear. Nesiara had picked out his colors, dark leather and rich, dusky blue silk with silver threading woven in. All Raviathan knew about his wife's wedding clothes was that they were a combination of silk and doeskin. He had no idea what colors she would wear or the cut of her dress. Normally the making of wedding clothes helped bond a daughter with her new mother, but in his mother's absence the task had fallen to Shianni. She had recruited Valora's help and together the three had worked diligently on all the clothing, keeping as many secrets from the grooms as possible.

Soris's clothes were lime green silk and rust colored velvet with gold trim. The color combination resembled jester's motley. "I think Valora is trying to get back at me with this outfit, though I don't know what for."

"The red coloring suits you."

"I guess. It's the green that makes me look like a clown."

Raviathan opened his mouth to comfort his cousin when they heard voices outside. Since he lived at the top of the building, Raviathan was unused to the traffic near Shianni's home. A clatter of voices rose, carrying an urgency that caught both men's attention. Shianni entered with Nessa and Nola in tow. Nessa's arm flung around Shianni for support. Nola stared at Raviathan, her eyes travelling up and down. She blushed and turned away, ratcheting up the tension between them. They hadn't spoken since the night she told him off.

"Shianni?" Dirt smudged her dress, and she was pale. Raviathan got a wet cloth and some soap.

"I'm fine." Her voice shook. Raviathan kissed her temple as he cleaned her.

Nessa blurted, "There were humans here!"

"Humans," Soris said, tension pulling him wire tight. "What…?"

"Nobles. Three of them," Nessa said. She lowered her voice, "Vaughan was here."

Raviathan and Soris froze at the name. Soris asked, "W-what happened?"

"Before we even knew what was going on, Isa told us to run," Nessa said. "Then she was gone. Those men wanted us to go with him. They were after women. Shianni hit him over the head with a bottle. Knocked him out cold."

"Cousin," Raviathan said in shock. Vaughan was here? That demon?

"I didn't think," Shianni said, and she sounded ready to cry. "He grabbed Ness…"

Ness…Raviathan dropped the soapy cloth, fear freezing his brain.

"She's fine," Nola said, still not looking at him. "The two shems left carrying Vaughan."

"I…" Raviathan's voice broke.

"It's okay," Shianni said. "You can go."

"I'll take care of her." Nessa put a hand on Shianni's shoulder.

Raviathan didn't remember leaving the apartment or hurrying through the streets. Half blinded by the harsh, winter sunlight, he ran to the square. Shem violating their home was bad enough, but Vaughan? The presence of the Arl's son was as invasive as a knife in his gut. "Ness!?" For a second, he was startled by the boom in his voice, they way it carried through the square and stopped the buzz of conversation from the gathered elves.

"Here."

He turned toward the sound of her voice and found her leaning against a wall of Valendrian's home. His breath caught, fear stuck raw in his throat. When he held her, he could feel the faint trembling that still effected her. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Not at all. How's Nola?"

Raviathan pulled away, his gaze intent as he examined her. He brushed back the fine slips of her hair that had escaped her braid. She was pale in the thin sunlight, her fine skin almost translucent. "Nola?"

"She was grabbed too. That… that shem was so harsh with her. Shoved his tongue in her mouth. She was gagging. Tossed her around like she was a doll. Oh Maker, I wanted to throw up."

"I… she didn't say anything. Ness…?"

"Really, my love. I'm fine. You look good," she said trying to smile away her nerves.

Raviathan pulled her into his arms. "Please, Ness. You're alright?"

She nodded and leaned into him. "Just let me be here for a minute."

"Anything, my love." His lips brushed across her temple. Raviathan closed his eyes, opened himself to the calm her presence provided. Her hair smelled like soap and water, clean and pure. She relaxed into him, her shaking easing away, and only then did he believe she was unhurt.

She kissed his neck. "I'm going to find Valendrian. Let him know what happened."

Reluctant, Raviathan released her. "Ness, if there's some danger, anything, I want you to run. You hear me? Just get away to safety."

"Yes, my love." She kissed him before she left.

He watched her leave, the rest of the alienage a distant clatter that didn't matter. She stood out, the one clear image among the blur of colors and movement of the other elves. Raviathan leaned against the wall where she had been and rubbed his temples to ease the sharp headache that had appeared.

"Cousin?"

Raviathan stood straight, his arm going around Soris' shoulder. "Did you see Valora?"

"She's fine. A little shaken. Ness?"

Raviathan nodded, "The same." He squeezed Soris, kissed his temple. Humans brought death as they both knew all too well.

"It's…" Soris' voice cracked. "It's going to be alright? Nobles…"

There wasn't a guard in the city who could protect them from the Arl's son. Soris looked about ready to faint. "Don't worry, cousin. Valendrian will know what to do." Raviathan shook his cousin gently. "Come on. They're gone, and it's our wedding day. You've got bigger worries."

"Yeah." Soris cracked a nervous smile. "That worry doesn't seem so big anymore. I'll give Vaughan that."

"We'll send him a rat tail as a thank you. Maybe in his soup."

Soris heaved a sigh to clear out his thoughts. "Wine? I think I could use a cup."

Raviathan nodded more to have something to distract his cousin than want for a drink. The elves gathered under the vhenadahl were jittery. The last attack had been four years ago, and had cost Adaia's life. Before that was the purge.

"Is Ness alright?"

Raviathan turned to see Alorn, her son wrapped up in a blanket. "Fine," he replied. "A little frazzled."

"It's been years since I've seen a shem. I forgot how big they are," she said.

Taedor joined them. "Me too. And their eyes? Creepy. Just so… dull. Like there's nothing there."

"Maker protect us." Alorn made the sign of the sword over her heart. "I had forgotten that too. Whether they're working or murdering, it's the same fish-eyed flat. Like they've got no feeling in them."

"I've been working with them for over a month," Soris added, "and I'm still not used to it. Never know if they're going to yell at you, hit you, or say 'good job'."

"Hey," Raviathan said. "It's our wedding day. I want to remember more than some shems. Let's not let them ruin it for us."

"Of course," Taedor said with a smile. "This will be the first wedding in years where you get to dance more than play."

Alorn hoisted her son up higher on her hip. "The lace sisters of the alienage have been looking forward to your wedding for years."

Raviathan laughed. "I'm not sure how much of a husband I'll be tonight. Drioni has had this look in her eyes for weeks."

Soris was still pale, so Raviathan made excuses and led him out of the crowd in case he was going to be sick. Bad enough Soris was worried about his marriage now this. This was the last thing he needed today. Parasitic shems. They made everything worse. Raviathan glanced at the vhenadahl as they passed, but this time he received no comfort.

The vhenadahl was painted white and red for the wedding. The colors for spring were blue and white, but since this celebration came between the winter and spring annum, the elves had decided to mix the red of winter with the white of spring. As the colors didn't go together during any season, Raviathan found the mix unsettling. The combination of spring and winter patterns clashed, strange in their unnatural jumble.

"Cousin, there's another human."

Raviathan's stomach clenched. Of all days, why today? Why couldn't these damn shems just leave them alone? Raviathan found the man leaning against an apartment building in the shade, casually surveying the alienage. The shem was a northerner, darker than Raviathan. His dark skin contrasted with his steel armor and pale cream cloak. Another noble? Not the right look. Not a guard either. "You think he's from before?"

"Don't know, but Rav, he's armed. W-what are you going to do?" Soris asked, trotting up to match Raviathan's quick march.

"Kill him."

"Wh-what? Cousin, you can't…"

"Oh, come on, Soris. I don't even have a knife on me. The three of us are going to have a nice, friendly chat, and if that doesn't work, I'll get him over to the bridge and push him off. With that heavy armor, he should sink."

"Rav. You're crazy. You can't…"

The dark human's gaze fell on Raviathan with an interest that gave the elf pause. Raviathan tried to shake off the odd feeling, but his fear rose, making him wish he had a weapon. What did this man know? "Ser. This is the alienage. It's no place for humans."

"I am well aware this is an alienage," the human said. He was older, mid forties Raviathan guessed, with his black hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He wore one gold earring in a style found in eastern Thedas-Free Marches, Rivain, or Antiva-but no accent marked his mild voice.

"Then you know you shouldn't be here. The gate is just over there. Ser."

"I have no intention of leaving." The human's attention was too sharp. He hadn't just wandered in, not that many shems did, but he was here for a reason. Those two humans Raviathan had hurt a month ago wouldn't have the money to hire a sell sword to go after him. Bounty hunter for the templars? That made no sense. Raviathan still wasn't openly practicing as Solyn had.

Why? Why this difficult shem here on his wedding day? "There is no reason for you to be here. Ser, this is a day of celebration. Your presence here is not only unnecessary, it is unwelcome. Would you please leave?"

"So persistent." The dark human smiled, which only bothered Raviathan more. They both knew an unarmed elf against an armed human was no match. "What will you do?"

What was with this shem? "You can't be this dense. What is your purpose here?"

"For now, my purpose is my own business."

Considering how heavy the shem's armor was and his age, Raviathan was sure he could out run the warrior. Pick a fight, then lure him out. Raviathan circled so his back was to the gate. "I said get out. You've no business here."

The dark human's smile never left. In fact, he seemed pleased. Did he come here to pick a fight? "I'm armed and armored. I refuse to leave. What will you do?"

Soris shifted from foot to foot, ready to bolt. Deciding to go for the unexpected, Raviathan surged forward, putting all the weight he could into shoving the shem. The push forced the human back a few paces, as much a show of strength as Raviathan was capable of. He danced back in case the shem went for his sword, and growled, "Bring it on, shem."

Soris waved his hands, backing away. "Try not to die!" He ran, yelling over his shoulder, "I'll get Valendrian."

Raviathan expected anger, or at least indignation. The smile he was getting was only confusing him more. Was this shem laughing at him?

"What's going on, Rav?" Three elves broke off from the crowd but kept a wary distance from the swordsman.

"Rav," the human said, musing over the name. "You are Adaia's son."

Raviathan straightened in surprise. Fear chilled him. He cursed himself for giving away the truth. He should have controlled his reaction. Too late now. "You knew her?"

"You resemble her quite a bit, you know."

Who was this man? Feeling trapped, Raviathan struggled against the fear that snaked up his spine. This man knew too much about him. Fallout from his mother's legacy. In that moment, Raviathan wondered about his wife's safety, the safety of his future children, his grandchildren.

When Raviathan remained silent, the warrior said, "Your mother trained you, did she not?"

Fear stabbed at Raviathan again. From his childhood, he remembered the crack of thin ice under his feet, how one misstep could suck him under the Drakon River, to be dragged into the black water, drowned, and out to a frozen sea. He felt that same fear now with this man. To say nothing would be an admission. To say the wrong thing would be a trap. This man knew his mother, knew what she was. Was he here for blackmail? But Raviathan didn't have anything of value. To force him into service of some gang? Fear for Nesiara and his family rose. "No. She died before I learned anything."

"Hey, Rav. You need some help getting rid of this shem?" The three elves walked up to stand behind Raviathan, four pairs of hostile, jewel bright eyes pinned on the human.

"I told you, shem," Raviathan said. "You don't belong here. Get out."

"Duncan!" Valendrian's jovial voice called out, breaking the tension that hung in the air. "How are you, old friend?"

"You know this shem?" one of the elves asked, mystified as their hahren shook hands with the warrior.

"Watch your language," Valendrian admonished. "I will have no insults to my guest."

The stunned elf gave Duncan a hasty bow in apology. Raviathan squeezed his friend's shoulder in thanks before sending the three back to the festivities. Soris remained close, his hand comforting against Raviathan's back.

"I apologize. Ser," Raviathan said. "Had you said…"

"No. I take no offense," Duncan said. "I kept you in ignorance."

"Grooms." Valendrian turned his attention to the two men. "You have wives and festivities to return to, and I must catch up with my old friend."

Raviathan wondered at his hahren's phrasing, but he nodded and took Soris's hand.

"Cousin," Soris whispered, "you really scare me sometimes."

"Sorry. Those nobles got to me."

"I'm glad we weren't there. Rav…" Soris gripped his hand painfully hard. "I… the nobles… what if…"

Raviathan pulled his cousin aside where he wouldn't be in full view of the other elves. "It's alright, cousin," he whispered, holding him tightly.

"Don't scare me, Rav. Picking fights. I'm…I'm already…"

"I'm sorry." He glanced over and found that the shem was still watching him. Whatever momentary respite from his nerves Raviathan had gotten from the presence of his cousin disappeared. An old anger formed like embers in his chest. He ran his fingers gently through Soris' hair and remembered back thirteen years ago when he'd held his cousin during the last purge. The screams and smell of burning elves. Ash, smoke, and elves—faintly like cedar.

"Rav?"

"Fine. I'm fine. We've got a few hours. Do you want to lie down?" Watching.

"I don't want to be alone."

"Then let's get some food to settle your stomach. How about that?" Still watching.

Unnerved, Raviathan led his cousin back the rest of their brethren. What reason could Valendrian have to tolerate this shem? "It'll be alright, Soris."

"Don't know why we're having the wedding today. Bad luck."

"Well, maybe we got our bad luck for the day out of the way. It can only get better from here on, right?"

Soris nodded, his head bowed and eyes darting around the square. Raviathan understood all too well how his cousin felt. Trying to watch everything as if that would keep harm at bay. He'd seen Soris do that when he was tense or under attack. Raviathan brought his cousin a cup of wine, hoping it would calm him. If Soris didn't start looking less green, he was definitely going to faint during the ceremony. Raviathan kept rubbing his cousin's back and joked with the other elves. Gradually, Soris regained his color.

After three more dances, Cyrion joined them, grinning broadly at his son and nephew. "Son. Oh, my boy. You look splendid. You too, Soris."

"Thank you, uncle."

"I feel like I should be in a parade in these clothes." Raviathan ran a hand over the silk of his shirt. "They're so fine."

Cyrion opened his mouth to reply when he noticed Duncan. Though Duncan had stopped staring, his attention had remained on Raviathan.

"Father?" Raviathan glanced between the two of them.

"N-nothing, son."

"Do you know him?" Raviathan's fear came back. Of course his father knew this shem. His father knew a great many more humans from his work, but this shem heralded bad news.

Troubled, Cyrion returned his son's gaze. "Not well. He was at my wedding. I didn't expect to see him here again."

"Your wedding?" Raviathan glanced back, saw the human watching him, and felt dread settle like stone in his stomach. "Father, I don't like the feeling of this. Let's cancel the wedding."

"Son…"

"It's bad luck not to have a wedding on an annum anyway. After all the trouble today… Ness and I will talk tonight, have the wedding in two months like we should."

"No," his father said quickly, panic in his voice. "It's best if you do this today. I…I will speak to Valendrian. I'm sure everything's fine."

Raviathan frowned at his father's retreating back. Duncan was still watching him, and Raviathan felt cold in a way that had nothing to do with winter. Enough of these shems. Soris was spooked. His wife, cousin, and friends were mistreated. And now his father was scared. An armed shem didn't belong here. Frustrated, Raviathan stalked over to Duncan, eyeing the dark human with open mistrust. "Who are you?"

"I thought I made that clear." When Raviathan's glare hardened, Duncan smiled in return. "I am a Grey Warden."

Raviathan's eyes narrowed. "Funny. Didn't see your griffin when you came in."

"So you know about us. That's a start."

Start of what? "Stop pretending." The Grey Wardens were mythic warriors, but they had died out with their griffins centuries ago.

Duncan bent at the waist, his arms folded across his chest. "And what proof do you require?"

Raviathan leaned back, uncertain. "The darkspawn are gone. Why this game?"

"Are you so sure of that, lad?"

Raviathan cocked his head, not sure if he was being taken in for a fool or not. "Why are you here?"

"I have business here," Duncan said as he straightened.

"Why are you watching me?"

Duncan smiled again. Raviathan wanted to punch him. "All in due time."

"No. I'm not interested in games or guessing."

"Rav!"

He turned to see Nesiara standing at the edge of the crowd. Raviathan could feel the beat of his heart increase. She was beautiful in the doe skin and white silk wedding dress. Pale and gold as a beam of sunlight. He didn't want this shem to see her. No hungry shem for that matter. They didn't belong here. Not in his home. He glared back at Duncan. "Do any harm to my family," he said quietly, "and no one will ever see you again."

He didn't wait for Duncan's reply. That shem was probably still smiling. Doubtless the warrior thought he could take an inexperienced elf easily. Raviathan could use that against the warrior if he had to. He knew more than one way to skin a cat.

"Come, Ness," he said wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Who is that man?"

"Says he's a Grey Warden."

Nesiara glanced back in surprise. "I thought the Order died out centuries ago."

"He's probably lying."

"Valendrian wouldn't hold a liar in such high esteem." She looked back again. "I never thought I'd see a Grey Warden in real life."

"Ness, love, you're not helping my nerves here."

"Nerves, huh?" She bit his neck gently, then again at the base. He laughed, a pleasant warmth chasing away his fears and letting calm settle into him. "Then let's dance. It's our wedding day, my love. I'll be damned if I let some humans ruin it."

Raviathan's eyes widened. "I don't think I've ever heard you use that word."

"Come on." She dragged him under the vhenadahl. The colors from dozens of stained glass ornaments splashed the square. "Taedor. Would you play? It's time for us to remember this is a celebration."

A few elves cheered, clapped, or raised their drinks in toast. Raviathan whirled his wife around, her laughter filling his chest, dispelling his fears. Her body, as slender and supple as a sapling, was real and warm in his hands. Her smile, the blue of her eyes, the cream of her skin, were the summit of the Maker's will. Make the Fade real, craft the chaos of energy into a physical form, and she danced before him as perfect as the light of his own heart. Nothing would tear this asunder. Whatever that shem's plans were, he couldn't force Raviathan to do anything. Though he might be a lowly elf, Raviathan wasn't defenseless. This, what he had now, was worth all that he was to protect.

More elves applauded, couples pairing together. Taedor started playing, the fiddle chords humming through Raviathan as if he were the strings. For the moment, the dappled sun and shades of colors that graced over Nesiara as she spun were more real than the world outside their home. This is our home. Our day. Our lives. Nesiara fueled his heart, the light of her spirit touching his own. Ever after this day, we will be bound.

Red and green flashed out of the corner of Raviathan's eye. Soris and his bride were dancing as well, their steps deliberate. Shianni's laughter rang out as she danced with a younger boy. This is the way we were meant to be, thought Raviathan. Free. Without shems, we could have the peace we deserve. The Chantry and its templars wouldn't exist. All his people would have magic again, live eternal with in communion with the Fade. Instead of decades, he would have centuries to dance with his bride.

"Enough, new wife," Drioni said. "It's time to let the old dames have a bit of fun."

Eolas was already in full swing with Soris, the groom relaxing in her company.

Nesiara laughed, bowing to her elder. "Of course, granny."

Taedor winked at him and started a fast jig. Raviathan took Drioni's hand, ducked under her arm not quite avoiding a pinch on the rear, then spun her back into position. Half the game was trying to keep her hands as busy as her feet, the other half in keeping up. While Drioni and Eolas were the most infamous, many of the alienage's grannies partook in the game of wearing out the grooms.

"Don't worry, young buck," Drioni said patting his cheek in parting. Her flush made her skin glow, dropping twenty years of age. "If you're tired tonight, lie back and let her do all the work. I'm sure you'll have that much left in you."

When she turned, Raviathan took the opportunity to pinch her, a small revenge for the years of her play. "Ho-oh!" Drioni wagged a finger at him, her smile wicked. She called out, "Ladies, have at this one."

"That's cruel," Raviathan said, and kissed the hand of his new partner, Eolas.

"Cruel indeed," Drioni said with a snort. "Old wives protect the new. We want that bride of yours to be able to walk tomorrow."

The music switched from a jig to waltz, so Raviathan held the dame closer for the slower music. Taedor was being sympathetic in his choices of music. "Ah, Rav. You've done a lot of growing up these last few months. Always were a bit beyond your years. Even as a tot. Your mother and aunt would both be proud."

"Thank you, granny."

"Do you still miss them?"

"Sometimes. It doesn't… I don't know how to describe it. I remember them all the time. I think about what they would say to me, or what they would think, but it doesn't hurt anymore."

"As it should be. Their memories are friends now. Pain is hard to let go, but you have to or you'll miss out on all the other gifts in this life. And that serene smile of yours proves it."

Soris yipped, and Raviathan could easily imagine what Drioni was doing to him. At least Drioni would help keep his mind off the shems. For all her mischief, she and her sister were two of the kindest elves he knew.

"Granny, was it hard to let go of your child?"

Eolas didn't miss a step as they spun under the vhenadahl. "At first. The way she was cut out of my life, it was like a death. Hard enough for the first, but when the templars came for Drioni's… Sometimes I wish I had taken them and run to the Dalish. I couldn't have guessed that magic was so strong in our family to take three children. At least they have each other and a cousin. Protection in family. That's a comfort. Our babies are together, like my sister and me."

"You weren't scared of their magic? Not ever?"

"No," Eolas said, her brow furrowed in annoyance at the thought. "Ridiculous boy. They were our babies."

"You were a good mother, Eolas. It's a pity you didn't have her for longer."

"Mm. I wish I really could be a granny. Wait and see, Rav. That's the best part. You can spoil your grandchildren rotten, and your child can't say boo." At his soft smile, Eolas squinted at him, measuring. "You're already looking forward to that. My dear boy, you're growing up too fast. Won't live long at the rate you're going."

Raviathan chuckled. "Thinking about summer doesn't make the day warmer."

"Sometimes, dear boy, I worry about you. We elves used to live forever. Now all we have are a few decades short of a century. Our lives got squished down to a few years, so we had to use them up faster. Don't shorten your life by growing up too fast. Once the years are spent, you can't get them back."

"I'm only eighteen, granny. Hardly ready for a cane."

"Eighteen my ass."

"Yes, and you should get your hand off mine. I've got you figured out, Eolas. You're just as bad as your sister."

She cackled. "Well. You'll be officially claimed within the hour. Let me enjoy while I can. Keeps me young, my dear boy."

The music came to an end when Mother Boann arrived in the company of Valendrian. Raviathan gave Eolas a hug then looked about for his bride. After Vaughan, he shouldn't let himself lose sight of her so easily. The edge of panic started to cut into his mind when he saw her speaking with that shem. Maker's ass. Why couldn't she be more afraid of them? He didn't want to get close to the shem again. "Ness. It's time."

She curtsied to the pretender before joining him. "Ness. Really. Why are you being nice to him?"

Nesiara scoffed and took his hand. "He's not a bad person, Rav. You'd realize that if you'd be a little more open minded."

Soris and Valora were making their way to the stage where Mother Boann and Valendrian waited. Raviathan squeezed his bride's hand. "We are not going to fight right before we're married."

"That's right. I'd be so much easier if you just agreed with me and be done with it. I'm right after all."

Raviathan smiled, pulling her in for a kiss before they took the stage. "Of course. But I'm right too."

"Yes, husband." She kissed him back. "This is your last chance to run off to find the Dalish."

"Yours too. Do I need to track you down?"

"No. Just marry me."

Raviathan led the way up the stage, his fingers entwined with his wife's. He'd never been this close to Mother Boann before. She was a short, stout woman but still taller than any elf. Plain for a human. Over the past month, Raviathan had been getting used to dullness of human eyes, the rough texture of their skin. Females were rare around the docks, only the occasional prostitute or vendor who were willing to brave shiploads of desperate men.

Mother Boann started her speech. Raviathan settled in for the tedium. He focused on the thick wrinkles that permanently marked the back of the Mother's neck. Humans had short necks. Some didn't even have a neck, their heads forming out of their shoulders. After a few minutes, Raviathan's eyes glazed over as he went into his own head to wait out the ceremony. Why were they compelled into these shem traditions? How did the Dalish perform wedding ceremonies? The Mother's voice droned on amidst the rustle of the vhenadahl's leaves and the occasional cough. Raviathan was dozing on his feet when he heard the clanking of metal.

The far off rhythmic march of armored boots chilled Raviathan's blood. He had never heard anything like it, but he knew what it meant. His brain snapped to alertness. They should have called the wedding off. Once the shems started, they never left elves alone.

"They're coming for us," he whispered. They needed to run. Come on Rav, move. You have to move. He took a hesitant step forward, his brain frozen in fear of what was coming for them. Nesiara gasped, and he realized he was squeezing her hand too tightly. The Mother kept up her stupid chanting oblivious to the sound. Raviathan looked at the sea of elven faces gathered under the vhenadahl, faces too bright, too expectant of the celebration to understand.

"Run." No one heard him. Isa had been the only one smart enough to stay hidden. "Run." Nesiara stared at him still not understanding the danger. "They're coming. We have to get out of here." His wife's family had been smart enough to escape a purge. Would he be able to keep her from danger now?

Shrieks from the ends of the crowd started getting the attention Raviathan wasn't able to. Now everyone heard the marching. The elves gathered together, clutched at their loved ones in panic. "Not a purge," a woman wailed.

"We've done nothing to warrant a purge," a man said but that eased no one's terror.

A young man ran from the west side of the main street. "There are guards coming! They've closed the portcullis!"

Trapped. We're trapped. More cries of a purge sounded from a dozen mouths as the elves surged around the vhenadahl.

The lords were there. One of them grabbed Miram. She struggled when he pulled her against him, one hand squeezing her breast, the other clutching her sex through her dress. She yelled as much in pain as in humiliation and tried to force his hands away. "She's a bit old," Lord Jonaley said looking the woman over.

"Still a pretty little wench though," Braden replied.

"There are lots of pretty wenches. No reason to settle."

"Fine." Braden pushed her roughly away so she hit a building before falling. Her dark eyes glittered in fury. If she had a dagger, she would have buried it in the lord without a second thought.

"Now, now," Vaughan said with a laugh. "She can always be a bit of sport for the guards. Let them chase her around the barracks for a time."

"My Lords!" Mother Boann was livid in fury. "That you would do this at all, but in front of a Chantry Mother!"

Vaughan snorted. "You indulge these pets of yours far too much. Dress them up for tea if you want to, they're still just knife ears."

"The Chantry will hear of this," she spat. "On a wedding day no less. This is beyond shameful."

With startling athleticism for such a large man, Vaughan leapt up to the platform. Instinctively, Raviathan pushed Nesiara behind him. All humor was gone as the current Arl glared down at the Mother. The menace in his low voice carried the threat of the city's army commanded at his whim. "The Chantry is going to stay out of this. The Mothers aren't all so stupid as you. Creating an incident over a few knife ears?" He smirked at her with all the warmth of a sadist at play. "Go back to your superior. Your time with your pets is over. Now that I'm Arl, we won't be indulging these little rats like we used to."

"You won't get away with this," Mother Boann said, but she was already cowed.

He laughed in her face. "Who's going to stop me? The guards I command? Stupid woman." Vaughan turned to his friends. "Pick who you want." The guards had the square surrounded as solid as a dark wall closing them in.

Lord Braden tossed Nola to a guard who held her fast then looked about the faces. He moved through the crowd tossing those aside who couldn't get away fast enough. "Where is she," he muttered, barely audible over the sounds of panic. "Where is she!?" he bellowed.

"Sister," Eolas yelled when Drioni was shoved and fell to the ground.

Vaughan looked upon the drama impassively. "Scores of knife ears. Why is he so bothered with that one?"

"Who knows," Jonaley replied sounding bored.

"Bad form that," Vaughan commented. "I was hoping this little adventure would help cure him."

"Eh. We still get to have a bit of fun out of this. Maybe we should take the grooms as well," Jonaley said with an appreciative leer. "They're pretty enough. We could put them in your mother's old frocks. Chain them up in the basement. Have their wives watch. I'd be fun to break them in with a captive audience."

"No point in appetizers when we have enough dishes for the main course. Speaking of which," Vaughan said turning back to the couples, "take a look at the lovely bride."

"Touch her and I'll kill you," Raviathan said.

Unimpressed, Vaughan smirked at him. "Don't worry. She's going to enjoy the feel a real man instead of a little cock rider like you."

Raviathan's attention was caught for an instant when he heard Valora shriek and Soris yell out, "No!" He barely had time to register Vaughan's movement when blackness fell.