I had a request for a more sweary version of said BAMF Warden. We'll go back (probably) to our less cursing heroine next time.

When Alistair turned to face the young elven woman before him, his first reaction was to smile. It was rare to have a fellow Warden around the same age as him, and she was actually quite pretty. She was such a small thing, it was hard not to be charmed at the sight of her.

He however was significantly less charmed when she opened her mouth.

"Hey, are you that asshole Alistair all the guards told me to find? Shit, man, why are you hiding in the back of the camp like a little kid bickering with some man in a dress? Doesn't the guy have enough problems? Shems, man, I never understand you shitheads."

Alistair cleared his throat, "Excuse me?"

"Whatever," she grumbled, "Where's the food? I was promised a hot meal and a bath before we go through this Joining bullshit. You want to point me in the right direction or what?"

"Um," Alistair blushed, "Right this way, there's a...um...pot...for...you know, stew."

The woman shook her head as she walked beside him, matching each of his steps with ease, "You know you were almost articulate earlier. Cock got your tongue? Are there no women around in the Grey Wardens? Just one big ass circle jerk for everyone? No wonder Duncan's been in a snit. I ain't touching that shitpot with a ten foot pole, never rubbing his...hopefully not ten foot pole-"

"Duncan is a good man," Alistair protested.

"And the asshole completes a full sentence," she cheered, "Good. I was worried I would have to do all the talking myself."

"Somehow I don't think that would bother you."

She chuckled, "You'd be surprised. I bore even myself after awhile. Hey...what's happening over there? There's some shem in a cage. Is he a darkspawn in disguise or something?"

Alistair looked to where she gestured, "Deserter."

"And you lock him up like that?" She frowned, "If the man wants to go, let him go. Come on, let's go settle with this."

He wanted to call after her, but realized he had actually not yet learned her name. He chased after her as she stomped over to the cage.

"You," she barked at the prisoner, "They have you in for deserting?"

The man shuddered, "You didn't see those creatures...such horrible beasts..."

"Trust me, I grew up in Denerim," she laughed, "There ain't much that scare me. They give you a trial? Give you a few slaps on the wrist or what?"

"I'm to be executed in the morning," he said quietly, "Please, miss. I've been in here all day without food or water. Can you help me...just...please..."

"What shitting barbarians do you work with, Alistair?" She rolled her eyes, "What is this? The Orleasian occupation? Hang in there, friend, I'll be back."

Alistair was helpless as she shoved the guard back.

"What sort of sick son of a bitch doesn't let a man have a sip of water or a bite of food? I can smell pork even on you, you little pervert. You think you'll just go watch the man die while you stuff yourself, you sick bastard. Does that get you all wet and nasty?"

The guard looked in shock and glanced to Alistair for help before looking back at her, "I'm sorry, miss, they didn't give me enough provisions to-"

She grabbed the blade out of her boot, holding it at the man's throat.

"Well, look at that," she mocked, "I thought the quartermaster had given me a carrot, but I guess not. Maybe we can both agree that sometimes soldiers can make executive decisions about supplies in the field. Or I can feed this to you like a little bunny rabbit, if you'd like."

The guard threw his satchel of food at her and backed off, holding his hand protectively against his throat.

She grabbed it, pushing it through the bars. The man ate hungrily and Alistair could hear her whisper something to him. He glanced, seeing a small flash of metal pass between him and the man started to cry. Almost compassionately, she patted his hand and walked off to Alistair.

"What did you give him?" He asked as they walked away.

"Lockpick," she replied, as if it were obvious.

"He's a criminal," Alistair protested.

"He's 90 pounds soaking wet," she stated, "He's a draft, pure and simple. No man should have to fight if they don't want to and certainly no one should ever be in a cage like some...some animal."

Alistair glanced back at the man, scarfing down his food and holding the pick to him like a security blanket. He felt his anger soften and he looked back at her.

"Luthien Tabris," she introduced, "By the way. Louie to my friends. Tabris to my colleagues."

"You always go by your last name?" He asked.

"It's what you do in the Alienage," she explained, "You use a name that has meaning. I like to remind people that my mother was the most badass bitch who ever lived: Adaia Tabris. Back home, it reminds people not to screw with me."

"And here?"

"You never know. My mother made quite an impression during the war. You never know who she pissed off."

Tabris skipped forward cheerfully as if unaware of introducing him to several new insults and involving him in criminal activities within the first ten minutes of them meeting.

"Oh look," she pointed out, "There's another one of the circle jerkers. The blue's handy, it's nice to be able to see them easier. Hello, brother! I hope you're better with a clit than you are with that broadsword!"

Alistair pulled her to the side and hissed, "You can't say that sort of thing to a superior officer."

"Should I have been formal and said clitoris instead?"

Alistair blushed a deeper shade of red than he knew possibly as she looked at him with glee.

"Oh Maker," she giggled, "You're a virgin. Oh Maker, that's wonderful. You're like what, 23 at least? You're like a little unicorn. Let me guess, you were raised in the Chantry or had deliciously repressed parents. Or both? Were you waiting until marriage and now that's horribly backfired on you?"

He wanted to die. He wanted the ground to swallow him up right there and then.

She raised an eyebrow, "Have I hurt your feelings? I'm just screwing around with you, you know that right? Come on, I'm hungry. Where's this "um...pot...stew...thing" I've heard so much about."

Alistair tried to reclaim his composure, "Just over here. Can I get you something to drink?"

He could tell she wanted to make another joke, possibly again about his sex life, but to his surprise, she just smirked and nodded, "An ale would be divine right now."

She sat at one of the make shift tables, taking off her gloves in order to eat better with her hands. He saw her bow her head as if for a quick prayer before she ladled herself a bowl and broke off a piece of bread.

"Hey, recruit!"

Tabris turned and Alistair froze, recognizing Ser Pamell from her earlier taunts. He stood in fear, holding both pints as Tabris gestured to the seat beside her.

"You should treat your betters with respect, knife-ear," he growled, "Or face the consequences."

"What, that I'll be in conscripted into the Grey Wardens? Oh, wait, that already happened," she shrugged dramatically, "I guess I'll just have to cry into my beer and think about all my poor life choices. Oh boo hoo."

Alistair tried to hide a reluctant grin before Ser Pamell reached her side, attempting to pull her from her seat. Alistair dropped both pints in horror as she whipped around, head butting him. In his daze, she jumped up, knocking him to the ground before punching in the face repeatedly.

"I tried to make a joke of it, but noo," she growled, "You shit head shems have to make it always a fight. You always have to beat up little elven girls so you can feel like a man, you little micro-cock."

Duncan arrived on the scene, dragging Tabris off the larger warrior, who looked at her in utter shock.

"You should put your pet down," he warned Duncan, "Before she bites off more than she can chew."

"Trust me," she snarled, "If I bit off your miniscule excuse for genitals, I wouldn't even have to gulp."

Duncan hissed something to her and she threw her arms up, angrily marching off towards the tents.

Duncan apologized, "I'm sorry, Alistair, that I have saddled her with you today. She can be...spirited. And vindictive...and generally unpleasant."

Alistair grinned sheepishly and said, "I think I kind of like her."

Duncan gave him a frustrated glance and Alistair blushed and looked away.