Zoya's eyelids drooped, her feet leaden as they navigated their way through the tunnels. Had it really only been one day since she'd woken up hung over and complaining about her bed? It felt like it had been a fortnight since the last time she'd slept - she'd trade all her pilfered Chantry baubles for an hour on that lumpy, old mattress.

It was that final push of healing energy that had exhausted the last of her already waning reserves. But it had been worth it to see Shianni's eyes flutter open and the color flood back into her cheeks. Sneaking a look at her cousin, she felt a surge of pride at what she'd accomplished. While the girl's wounds hadn't knitted as cleanly as they might have under Anders' care, she was alive, and that was the most important thing.

Shianni recoiled, her fingertips digging into Zoya's arm as a clumsily kicked stone clattered against the wall of the tunnel. She looked so young, so lost and vulnerable. Zoya could mend her physical injuries, but no healing power she knew of could speed Shianni's emotional recovery. Only time and love would do that. Tears welled in Zoya's eyes as she realized that she no longer had the luxury of time, that she wouldn't be around to help Shianni fully heal.

The Alienage would be the first place the Templars would hunt for her. It probably wouldn't take long for the palace guards to find the bodies of their lord and his cronies. A band tightened around Zoya's chest as guilt settled in; they'd been forced to leave Nola's body behind when they fled the palace. She pushed the image of the elf's lifeless eyes from her mind with a shake of her head. As dense as the average guard was, it would be obvious that the elves were responsible for Vaughan's death and come here to search for the murderers. If the Templars and guards didn't come for her, well… then there was still the marriage to contend with. She bit back a bitter chuckle - it was absurd to think she would put the looming threat of marriage in the same category as execution or Tranquility. It came down to the same thing, though. No matter which way she turned, someone wanted her... except the someone she wanted back.

This was not how she'd anticipated things would go following the Chantry heist. She'd imagined returning to the Alienage for quick goodbyes and giving her family a portion of her plunder before sailing off on The Siren. Giddy with the promise of adventure and romance, she'd pictured herself wrapped in Anders' arms as they watched Denerim fade into the distance. Instead, she was left behind to watch The Siren sail off into the sunrise without her. Almost expecting to feel the anger flare to life again as her thoughts turned to Anders, she felt only a gaping emptiness in her heart left by his unexplained abandonment. She didn't have the energy to try to understand her fickle almost-lover. Given the uncertainty of her future, she needed to stay focused on getting through what was to come, not what could have been.

Anders had once called her naive and idealistic. She sighed heavily. She'd trusted Anders, believed in him. It had been so easy to fall for his charms, to develop strong feelings in such a short time. Naive? Foolish? Yes... those words certainly seemed to fit.

None of the party had spoken as they worked their way through the tunnels. A mess of angry voices brought everyone to a halt in the short alley that joined with the center of the Alienage. Tension was thick in the air, and Zoya strained to untangle the chaotic rant. A frown dragged at the corners of her mouth and creased the smooth skin between her eyebrows. "It sounds like everyone in the Alienage is out there. The masses have been roused and they're not happy."

Turning her attention to her cousins, she flinched as she met haunted eyes. The events of the evening had aged the young elves, lending them a seriousness that had been absent before. Zoya recognized that look. How many times had she seen it in her own reflection? lt was so much harder to bear when she saw it in her loved ones. A knot formed in her gut as she realized that their worlds would never be quite the same. What she wouldn't give to turn back time to before the palace, before Vaughan...

Her heart ached as she watched Shianni smooth nervous hands over the borrowed dress and lean wearily against Soris. He absentmindedly held his sister, offering what support he could. Even when he was preoccupied, his instinct was to give comfort. But his focus was on his own hands, rubbing them together as if trying to wipe them clean. Some of Zoya's concern was soothed by the unconditional bond between her cousins, certain they would take care of each other after she'd gone.

Zoya's voice was as gentle as the hand she lay on her cousin's arm. "Soris, maybe you should take Shianni home. She needs her rest, and I don't want her to get caught up in this if things get out of control."

Shianni bit down on her lip, her cheeks paling as she protested. "I don't want anyone treating me like some fragile, broken doll." While her words were brave, the trembling in her voice betrayed her. She shifted her eyes to Soris, looking to him for strength as she tightened her arm around his and added in a stronger tone, "We go where you go."

Zoya shook her head sadly; even now Shianni was trying to put on a brave face. "There are some places you can't follow." She looked to Duncan for support.

Wariness ghosted across his face before it became an impassive mask again. Turning his attention back to the disgruntled rumblings beyond the alley, he spoke in a gruff voice. "No good will come from lingering here. I suggest you say your goodbyes quickly."

The three elves exchanged anxious looks, their hands latching tighter. Zoya knew Duncan was likely right, but that didn't make their impending separation any easier. It's too soon. I'm not ready. Maker knows... life in the Alienage wasn't perfect, it wasn't even safe. But this was home, family - did anything else really matter? Taking a deep breath, Zoya turned to her mentor. "I understand. But... I need just a little more time."

Duncan's expression softened for a moment as he regarded her, conflict playing behind his dark eyes. Offering a tense nod, he murmured, "As you wish." His face was unreadable again when he turned back to the swarming crowd.

They tried to be discreet as they entered the Alienage's courtyard, but it didn't take long for the others to notice them. Gasps of surprise punctuated the grumbling as their presence was noted; frantic whispering swelled as the companions worked their way through the throng. For a moment, the feeling of family that Zoya associated with her people came through as concerned hands reached out to offer comfort to the young elves, to show relief that they were home and safe. Their faces were a blur as Zoya nodded absently and continued to push her way through the crowd, her hand clasped with Shianni's in an effort to keep the girl close.

The bonds of kin and kind were strained as angry muttering and scowling faces shifted toward Duncan, the lone, armed human. Zoya fell into step at his side, keeping Shianni between them even as she guarded his flank. Silent prayers formed in her head - please don't let anyone get any foolish ideas. Some of the younger elves had gathered weapons, most of which were improvised and snatched up in haste - kitchen knives, the leg of a chair, a broom handle, a fallen branch from the vhenadahl. These hotheads stalked restlessly among their elders, faces contorted in barely restrained rage as they bristled with the need to exact revenge. They have no idea what they're in for, Zoya thought sadly. If only they really knew what it was like to feel the death of another person at your own hands, to see the light snuffed from your victim's eyes...

Zoya searched the crowd, catching a glimpse of her father and Valendrian standing on the platform near the vhenadahl. They looked as if they'd aged since she'd last seen them. Their faces were drawn, their skin ashen with dark circles around their eyes - all evidence of their sleepless night. Zoya was suddenly taken by the thought that both men had looked to today with anticipation. It was to be a day of celebration for family, clan and community. Both the platform and the old tree had been decorated with garlands of flowers and paper birds. But now the decorations hung in tatters from the branches and were being crushed underfoot, much like the dreams destroyed during these last several hours.

On the edge of the platform lay three shrouded bodies. Soris had told her that other elves had been killed in the earlier violence, but to see them there turned her stomach. These were elves she'd known her whole life - they'd shared food and drink, coin and song, and together they'd dreamed of a better life... a life they'd never have now.

Zoya knew that once things calmed down, Mother Boann would come to minister to their families, taking the remains with her for cremation in the Chantry. But would the riotous elves let things return to the tentative truce that existed between the humans and her people? Zoya hoped they could put an end to the cycle of violence before it spiraled further out of control. Vaughan's words echoed in her ears, the streets of the Alienage will run red with elven blood. She tore her eyes away from the wrapped bundles. It could have been so much worse - just hours before, these three young elves had been celebrating with her cousins. Shianni and Soris could also be lying lifeless under those shrouds. Images from the last Purge cut across her thoughts - bodies stacked on the platform like kindling, the piles growing faster than the Chantry could cremate them.

Relief smoothed the lines from Cyrion and Valendrian's faces when they spotted Zoya, Duncan and her cousins slipping through the crowd. But as her father's eyes settled on Duncan, a scowl twisted his features. Valendrian lay a hand on Cyrion's shoulder, leaning close to speak in his ear before gesturing for them to join him on the platform.

The tension around them only intensified as they neared the Elder. He lifted his arms to get the crowd's attention as he raised his voice to speak, "You see… our missing kin have been returned to us! There is no need for further violence."

Voices rose and fell as the elves shouted their dissenting opinions and seized on the opportunity to rehash old grudges. Some insisted they still wanted to go to the palace to exact justice for the elves that were killed. Others wanted to avoid further violence and spoke in worried tones about the possibility of another Purge.

Valendrian pulled them to the side, ignoring the chaos all around them. His eyes widened as they scanned Zoya and Soris, lingering on the daggers on her back and the blood on his clothes. "What happened? Where's Nola?"

Zoya's mouth went dry, suddenly nervous as her father and the Elder focused on her. "Nola didn't make it. She was killed by Vaughan and his men. And Shianni was… injured. There was a fight... The humans that did it are dead."

Valendrian rubbed inflexible fingers in weary circles along his temples, the age lines deepening in his face as sadness filled his eyes. "Maker preserve us." He turned to Duncan, "Thank you, my old friend, for returning these young ones to us."

Duncan shook his head, "It wasn't me. They managed to escape on their own - I didn't encounter them until afterward."

The clamor of armor broke through the noises of the crowd, and Zoya's heart stopped beating. She froze in place, suddenly aware that the next few moments would decide her path. Weary muscles twitched, the urge to flee washing over her. As the armed men rounded the corner, she could tell she wasn't the only one feeling anxious. It hadn't been that long since the last Purge, and the sound of heavy armor usually meant bloodshed was to follow. Frightened looks flew from face to face as many of the elves scurried for the relative safety of their homes. A familiar dread shuddered through her as the morning light reflected off the Templars' heavy plate. The three armored men marched along the worn cobbles, a half-dozen City Guard flanking them. As they reached the platform, the Guard Captain nodded to the Templars, establishing his authority as he strode forward.

Valendrian offered the human a curt nod, "I suppose you've come in response to the disruption here last night?"

"Don't play ignorant with me, Elder! You'll not prevent justice from being done." The Guard Captain swept stern eyes over the assembled elves. "I'm here in search of one or more fugitives. Bann Vaughan is dead, along with Lord Jonaley and Lord Braden - the lot of them slaughtered like Summerday festival pigs." He gestured for the mage-hunters accompanying him to step forward. "And these Templars tell me that they are seeking a maleficar that escaped from the dungeon last night. Based on what I learned from questioning the witnesses, I believe we may be looking for the same fugitive and her accomplices, and they are likely here in the Alienage. I will be questioning your people until they are identified and then I will take those responsible into custody. If you want to avoid further unpleasantness, I need names and I need them now!"

Zoya tensed, taking a deep breath. This is the moment... An eerie calm settled over her, the path suddenly clear. Shianni and Soris lunged to stop her as she moved to step forward, but she was too quick. She felt almost giddy when she spoke, but her voice was strong and steady. "It was me. I did it."

Zoya stared defiantly into the crowd, watching with grim satisfaction at the shock on their faces. Surprised gasps were followed by fierce whispers, even as the elves nearest the platform recoiled in fear. But for the moment, their fear meant nothing to her as she realized how strangely freeing it felt to no longer have to hide what she was. It felt good, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, to be rid of the magical secret she'd carried for so long. Even so, she avoided looking back at her father, not wanting to see the disapproval and disappointment on his face.

The Guard Captain looked at her incredulously, "You? I know you, girl. You're a troublemaker, a prankster, but you expect me to believe that you are the maleficar? That one woman is responsible for all those deaths?"

She arched an eyebrow at the human. Who in their right mind would admit to being an apostate if they weren't? Grimacing, she felt her power rising unbidden, the urge to set herself aglow or conjure a lightning ball in her hand as proof nearly overcoming her. Her magic sputtered when Duncan placed a restraining hand on her arm.

A deep voice echoed from within a polished helmet as Zoya felt the Templars building their power to strike at her. "She does fit the description."

The Captain regarded her for a moment, "You have saved many by coming forward. I don't envy your fate, but I applaud your courage." He turned to address the few elves that had remained. "This elf will be returned to the dungeons where she will await the arl's return, unless the Chantry determines otherwise. The rest of you will return to your homes."

Duncan stepped forward, "Captain, a word if you please?" He paused, waiting until the Captain turned and acknowledged him with a terse nod. "I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription. I will take this prisoner into my custody."

Duncan had suggested she join the Grey Wardens while she was healing Shianni in the tunnels. It was a solution to her problems - to save her from execution for the death of the bann and others in the castle, or worse, being taken to the Circle to be made Tranquil. It was an easy choice; she'd longed to become a Warden for as long as she could remember. To be given the opportunity now, just when things were bleakest... Zoya hadn't been certain it would work, but to see the Commander of the Grey announce to the Captain that he was conscripting... She fought back the triumphant grin tugging at her lips, resisting the sudden urge to stick her tongue out at the Templars.

"Son of a tied-down…" The Captain dragged a hand across his face, sighing heavily, "Very well, Grey Warden. I cannot challenge your Right, but I ask one thing – get this elf out of Denerim... today!"

Duncan nodded, his dark eyes serious and his mouth set in a firm line beneath his beard. "Agreed." Zoya watched, fascinated by this side of Duncan that she'd never seen before... this wasn't her roguish mentor, but the Commander of the Grey. His face was a neutral mask and his voice firm, his bearing demanding respect.

"Now I need to get my men out on the streets before word of this hits and the masses become convinced that you elves are going to riot." The Captain motioned to his troops, "Move out."

The guards turned to file out of the Alienage, but the Templars paused for a moment. Zoya held her breath, their hateful eyes boring into her as she wondered if they would deny Duncan his Right. The tension grew as they glared at each other. The air vibrated with it as her magic surged, begging to be released, in response to the growing threat of their cleanse. She exhaled quietly as she felt their power dissipate, her own mana fading in response. A surge of triumph lifted her heart as she watched them turn on their heels and stride after the departing guards.

Duncan lay a hand on her shoulder, "You're with me now. Take Shianni home, say your goodbyes, and gather anything you want to take with you. We need to leave as soon as possible."

Zoya turned to Valendrian, her cousins, and her father in turn. The reality that she was actually leaving this place struck her silent.

Valendrian sighed heavily, "Well, I guess Duncan is getting his recruit after all." He extended his hand, gripping Zoya's arm before pulling her into a hug. Clearing his throat, he released her, "If you'll excuse me, I must tend to our people. Goodbye young one, and Maker keep you."

Cyrion's eyes were guarded as he stepped forward, hesitating for a moment before awkwardly pressing a key into her hand. "Your mother would have wanted you to have her things – take what you want." He glared past her at Duncan, his arms crossing. "The Grey Warden is waiting and I'm sure your cousins would like to say their goodbyes. I'll meet you at home shortly."

She gripped the key in her hand, the jagged edge cutting into her palm. Hot tears burned in her eyes as she silently nodded to her father. He's disappointed, ashamed of my curse. I've become the monster he'd feared when he demanded I be sent to the Circle.

Shianni's slender fingers twined with hers as Soris' strong hand gripped her shoulder, their quiet support lending her strength as she mutely turned and led them in the direction of home.

~oOo~

As they trudged along the cobbles, Zoya tried to ignore the lingering groups of gossipers, their heads inclined toward each other as they spoke in hushed tones. Well... maybe she couldn't ignore their mutterings, but she would do her best not to react. Apparently the joy of their return wasn't to last...

"They brought this on themselves. If they would have been home in bed instead of drinking in the street... if they hadn't fought back ..."

"I always knew that child would be the doom of us all. Look at what she's caused..."

"She's wild, just like her mother - it's all in the breeding..."

"Those children were always getting into mischief, always causing trouble..."

"I knew all along she was an apostate. Why Cyrion allowed her to stay here is a mystery. It's her mother's influence no doubt. That girl should have been sent to the Circle..."

"We've all heard stories about what happened in the castle. About what the bann and his friends did to elves in that place. Do you think... Those poor girls... As if Cyrion wasn't having a hard enough time finding husbands for them..."

Zoya kept her eyes focused ahead, fighting the urge to throw her hands over Shianni's ears to block out the petty whisperings. Her cheeks burned, tears springing to her eyes as she bit her tongue to stop from lashing out at her fellow elves. They have no idea... it could have easily been one of them. Their words stoked the anger building within her; she felt the blaze ignite as Shianni's grip tightened on her hand. The young elf's face was pale and pinched, tears shimmering in bloodshot eyes. Zoya gave her cousin's hand a reassuring squeeze and quickened their pace toward home.

"Zoya! Hey Zoya, hold up a minute." Nelaros trotted toward her.

Zoya's mouth went dry as she watched the young elf approach. Turning to offer an apologetic grimace to her cousins, she handed Shianni off to Soris. She was hoping to avoid talking to her betrothed, not sure what to say or how to say it. "Ummm... I'm in a bit of a hurry. I need to get Shianni home - she needs rest."

"I understand. I won't keep you long." Nelaros regarded her quietly, a frown cutting across his handsome face. "So I guess this is it? You're off to join the Wardens then?"

Zoya quirked an eyebrow at the elf, surprised at the disappointment in his voice. She'd never considered that he might actually be enthusiastic about their marriage, or wouldn't be anxious to be rid of her after finding out she was an apostate. "Well, it was either that or execution. I thought the choice was a simple one."

Nelaros' smile was sad, "Seems like you made your choice when you left the Alienage last night." He stepped toward her, one hand reaching out to tentatively stroke her cheek before leaning in to brush feather-light lips against hers. His hand lingered against her face as he withdrew just enough to gaze into her eyes. "Just so you know, I would have done everything I could to make you happy."

Her cheeks burned, and she was left gawking at him as he walked away with a bit of a swagger in his step. Well… that'll certainly give these hens something to squawk about. You have to give him credit for his boldness.

Soris chuckled at the dumbfounded look on Zoya's face. "Rethinking your choice, cousin?"

Zoya shook her head, "As if that's an option. Can't you see the introductions?" She changed the pitch of her voice to imitate Nelaros, "'Beloved family, I would like to introduce you to my new bride. She's a thief, a murderer and an apostate, but I think we'll be very happy together...'" A wry smile cut across her face as both cousins snorted in amusement. She turned and tugged at Shianni's hand, "Let's get home before we have any more awkward encounters."

They walked in silence, each of them lost in their thoughts. Soris shoved at the old door, grunting as he threw his shoulder against it. Candles flickered cheerfully at them as they moved through the room to settle Shianni on a bunk. Zoya sighed as her own weight sank onto the mattress, wanting nothing more than to curl up around her cousin and sleep for a week. She slipped her hand free as Shianni rolled onto her side and drew her legs up to her chest. Brushing hair from girl's forehead, Zoya leaned over to deposit a quick kiss on the cool, pale skin as she tucked a threadbare blanket around her.

Soris cleared his throat to get Zoya's attention, extending a hand to help her up from the bunk. Pulling her toward the hearth, he regarded her with a serious look, "She's going to be alright, isn't she? I mean, you healed her..."

Zoya turned toward the mantel, cradling her upper arms with chilled hands. "There's only so much I can fix with magic. She's going to need a lot of love and support, and I won't be here. She's going to need you, Soris." She regarded her cousin, struggling to remember the last time she'd seen him look so grim, so withdrawn into himself. A lump rose in her throat; she wasn't the only one responsible for taking lives at the palace. While he wasn't the one who entered that room with murder in his heart, he was going to have to live with the consequences of following her. Zoya stepped toward her cousin, clasping his hands. "I think you're going to need each other."

Soris swallowed hard as his hands squeezed hers. "I keep seeing that human's face, feeling the blade..." His face was suddenly tinged with green, "...slide into him." He squeezed his eyes shut as he took a deep breath, his voice cracking when he finally spoke again. "How do you keep going after something like that?"

Zoya ducked her head, chewing her lip. "I don't know... you just do what you have to and try to get through it." Tugging at his hands to get his attention, she offered a reassuring smile when he met her gaze. "I'd tell you that you have no reason to feel guilty - you only defended yourself, Shianni and me. But I know you'll continue to let it gnaw at you. Don't let it destroy the good in you, Soris."

His blue eyes brimmed with unspent tears as he searched her face. "I still can't believe you took the blame for what happened at the palace. You didn't have to do that – I'm guilty too. You really saved my hide back there. I don't know how I can ever repay you for what you did for me, for Shianni…"

She cupped his face in her hands. Did he really think he owed her for taking care of them, two of the people she loved most in this world? "I took the blame because I wanted to save you. It's not too late for you... you have so much to live for." Shaking her head, she gave him a lopsided grin, "Besides, there's no need for both of us to hang. And I knew Duncan wouldn't let them arrest me, so really not such a brave thing, right?"

Soris shook his head in bemusement. "You might not know this, but you've been my hero since we were kids. Now it's just official."

"Well... I only did what I had to do. I don't think anything I've done would qualify as heroic. Stupid maybe, but definitely not heroic." She shushed him with a raised hand when his mouth opened to protest. "So what now? What are your plans? Still going to get married to the old mouse?" Zoya grinned.

"Yeah, I think it's time I settle down and start acting responsibly. No more daydreaming. Valora is a good woman, and she has a lot of ideas for how we can make life in the Alienage better." His eyes glittered with excitement as he spoke, his face earnest. "Speaking of the old mouse... I better go find her. She's probably worried sick."

Zoya had to fight back laughter; never in this lifetime would she have guessed Soris would use the words settle down or acting responsibly. "Good for you! If anyone can make a difference in this place, it's you. I'm only sorry I won't be here to see you get married." She pulled him into a tight hug, "I love you, Soris. Take care of yourself, and try to keep Shianni out of trouble."

His arms were a strong band around her as he buried his face in her neck, his voice gruff, "I love you too, Zoya." He held her for a moment before reluctantly releasing her, work-hardened hands continuing to grip her shoulders. "Be safe out there, and never forget you have a family here who love you and are here for you no matter what. We'll always have your back..." He kissed her cheek and pivoted on his heel, striding toward the door and yanking it open. Pausing with his hand resting on the knob, he turned back to her, offering her a reassuring grin as he stepped through and pulled it shut behind him.

Zoya stared at the heavy wooden door, a hollowness growing in her gut. Every day, for as long as she could remember, Shianni and Soris had been there. She couldn't imagine what her life would be like without their constant presence, nor did she want to. Running shaking hands through her hair, she chastised herself. Now isn't the time to feel sorry for myself - I need to keep focused on doing what needs to be done. Duncan's waiting.

She pulled a small leather pouch free from her belt, pouring the pilfered coins and gems into her slender palm. All this misery for a few baubles. Rolling the shimmering wealth in her nimble fingers, she let all but a few coins slip back into the bag. Zoya tucked the gold pieces into her boots before setting the purse on the mantel - her family would need the money more than she.

Halting steps carried her across the room. Zoya crouched in front of her own trunk, gathering her few belongings and depositing them into her pack. It had been torturous trying to decide what to claim from the tunnels, finally settling on only the wooden daggers Duncan had carved for her so many years ago. He'd chided her for her sentimentality, reminding her that she would be lugging all of her possessions and necessary provisions on her own back. Besides, those things would remain safe in the tunnels until she returned to claim them after the danger of the Blight had passed. But she'd stubbornly refused to leave them, and had only offered a grumpy look to her mentor as she shoved them in her pack, along with a couple of extra knives and potions for good measure.

Zoya swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she finally approached her mother's trunk, using the key to unlock it for the very first time. Reverent hands moved over the precious goods. Once again she was torn... how could she be expected to decide what to take and what to leave behind?

She carefully set Adaia's wedding dress to the side, revealing her mother's blades and armor. What she currently wore was only part of it - there were also pauldrons, bracers, greaves, cuisse, and the breastplate. All were crafted from boiled leather and were made to wear over the form-fitting, lighter-weight gear she'd donned earlier. The cured leather of Adaia's chest piece was unyielding under her nimble fingers as she traced the Dalish designs. She wondered if the patterns meant anything... Perhaps Duncan could tell her.

Pulling the assorted armor pieces free, she set them next to her on the floor before wrapping her fingers around the hilts of Adaia's daggers. The Fangs of Fen'Harel, passed down to her mother through the generations, felt almost warm and alive in her hands. She slid out of her shoulder harness, pulling her simple sheathed blades from the leather strap and putting them in her pack before replacing them with her mother's twin daggers.

Shianni quietly approached, extending a hand to pull Zoya to her feet, "Here, let me help you." Together they strapped each piece of armor over the more supple fighting leathers. Once it was done and the shoulder harness had been refastened, Shianni gave her an appraising look. "It looks good on you. I think she'd be happy to see you wearing it."

Zoya chuckled and shot her a lopsided grin, "I feel a bit like a kid playing dress-up."

Shianni gave her a quick hug, "Well you don't look it. You look fierce - just like I imagined a Dalish would. I know you'll make us all proud." The young elf's smile faded, her face crumpling as the tears welled in her eyes. She covered her face and turned her back on Zoya, moving to collapse onto the bunk.

Zoya followed, sinking into the mattress next to Shianni. The young elf curled into Zoya's outstretched arms, the sobs shuddering through her as Zoya stroked her hair, quietly murmuring that everything would be fine.

The words tumbled free, Shianni's voice nothing more than a shamed whisper, "I can't get it out of my head... the things he did... I was so scared. I tried to fight him but that only made it worse." Shianni stared up at Zoya, her eyes wide and her face streaked with tears. "It's all my fault! If I hadn't bottled him - maybe he would have left us alone. So much death... so much blood... and it's my fault!"

Her cousin's pain threatened to tear Zoya apart. She fought back tears as she cupped the girl's face in her hands, "Oh Shianni... you can't blame yourself for what happened. When I was in the dungeon, I heard the guards talking. The bann and his minions went to the Alienage last night with a purpose, and nothing you could have done would have changed that." Her throat clenched against the rising bile, And I'm no different than that monster. I went to his quarters with a purpose, and nothing could have stopped me from killing him, from craving the feel of his blood flowing hot over my fingers. "But they can't hurt you, or anyone else, ever again. When the nightmares come, please take comfort in that at least."

Shianni's rasping sobs quieted, her breath calming as she clutched Zoya's hands in her own. Red-rimmed eyes caught at hers, "I still can't believe you took all the blame for what happened. You're amazing, you know." She sucked in a trembling breath as she fought back the tears, "I'm going to miss you so much. I love you, Zoya."

"I love you too, Shianni." Zoya pulled the young elf into a tight embrace. An ache bloomed in her chest. Who will be there to sing away the nightmares, to wipe away the tears, to soothe Shianni back to sleep? I can't leave her now, not like this...

The young elves clutched at each other, suddenly afraid to let go. They sat like that for several moments before Zoya reluctantly pried herself loose, duty's call too loud to ignore. "I better go, Duncan is waiting."

Shianni gave Zoya's hands one last squeeze and offered a tentative nod. As their eyes locked, both women knew that the longer Zoya lingered, the harder leaving would become. Rising wearily to her feet, she leaned down to kiss Shianni on the forehead.

A hopeful smile twitched at Shianni's lips, "You'll have to come back and visit when you can. And don't forget to write. I don't expect a letter every day, but once a week might be nice." Shianni wiped at the tears welling in her eyes.

Zoya nodded, giving her cousin another kiss before striding out of her home. Once out the door, she paused to look back, not sure if she would ever see it or her cousins again. The hollowness in her gut spread. When she'd considered leaving in the past, she'd never thought it would be this painful.

As she turned hesitant feet toward the gate, she spotted Cyrion approaching. His posture was stiff and his face was hard, his forehead creasing from the frown he wore. Her heart clenched, and she swallowed her growing misery. It was impossible not to anticipate the worst when he was glaring at her like that. She'd hoped this goodbye would be easier, and yet, nothing had ever felt more difficult. Zoya bowed her head, focusing bleary eyes on her own clasped hands. Her voice was coarse when the words finally came. "I'm sorry, papa. You must be so disappointed in me."

Cyrion's callused hand brushed a stray tendril from her cheek before grasping her shoulders. "My only wish was that you be safe." His eyes became distant even as his frown deepened, "Your mother would be proud, I think."

Zoya avoided his gaze, "But not you…"

"I can't deny that I hoped for grandchildren and family gatherings, but the Maker has decided you belong on a different path. Who am I to question?" He released her with a heavy sigh, scowling in the direction of the gate. "The Warden is waiting. Go now... before I embarrass us both."

Zoya watched, tears trailing down her cheeks as he turned away from her and strode toward the Alienage. She'd hoped for something more, but... He's right to be disappointed in me. "I love you, papa," she whispered to his back, dragging her hand roughly across her face as her feet carried her toward the gate.

Duncan's face was unreadable beneath the thick beard as he watched her approach. He offered an approving nod as he recognized Adaia's armor and daggers. "Are you ready to leave? We need to catch up to the caravan heading to Ostagar."

"Ready as I'll ever be…" She sighed, her eyes meandering once more over the familiar sights of the Alienage, the only home she'd ever known. The human guard glared at her as she paused and rested one hand upon the gate. The need to share a saucy stare or cheeky words briefly pulled at her. But in these final moments, dread flooded her bones, its smothering weight anchoring her in place. Images flashed through her mind of the shrouded bundles on the platform, the City Guard marching along the broken cobbles of the Alienage, some of her people fleeing as others stood firm and defended their homes. It was suddenly very hard to force air into her lungs, and her words were little more than a rasping whisper. "But what's going to happen here? It doesn't feel right just leaving like this. What if there's another Purge?"

Duncan lay a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him, and she reluctantly lifted her eyes to meet his. His reassuring gaze lifted some of the weight from her chest, enough to allow her to breathe again at least. "For the moment they'll be fine. There are far more important matters arising that endanger more than just your people. I needed a Grey Warden to help in our fight against the Blight, and I found one. That the Grey Warden is you and that conscripting you saved your life is only circumstance. You did what must be done - the Wardens need people like you, far more than the Alienage does."

Zoya nodded, fighting the urge to look back one last time. Again, the hollowness in her gut spread, threatening to consume her. The moment had come - she couldn't delay any longer. It was time to leave the Alienage, possibly never to return. She gripped the heavy timbers to support herself as her legs betrayed her. A dried rose thorn pierced the growing numbness of her skin, its sting sending a jolt up her arm and along her spine. Her eyes were drawn to the drop of blood as it blossomed crimson against her pale skin. In honor of her mother, she'd woven these flowers into the gate herself. She'd retraced her mother's footsteps as she stole into the deepest night to liberate the blooms from nobles and Chantry alike. This was yet another seemingly senseless thing Adaia had done, earning her the reproach of many who discovered her thievery, and yet there was deep purpose behind it. What point was there to life, if one wasn't free enough to live it? If there wasn't beauty or opportunity?

Raising her injured thumb to her lips, she realized Adaia would have wanted this, for her to join Duncan and the Wardens. She would want her daughter to be free of the Chantry, to have adventures, and to live a life that would allow her to use her gifts to help others. While Adaia had never been free of the Templars, life with Duncan had given her adventures and a sense of purpose. She'd given her own life so her daughter would have that same chance.

With that thought, her burden lifted. Zoya plucked the dried bloom, placing it carefully in her pack before moving to follow Duncan through the gate. There was a whole world out there waiting for her. She turned her back on the Alienage and toward the Warden, toward her future.

A/N:A heartfelt thank you to everyone who has stuck with the story so far - we've reached the end of Part 1 (Origin) and now we can move onto Part 2 (The Blight). No thanks would be complete without sending hugs and kisses to my wonderful beta, Eve Hawke, and my lovely pre-reader and beta-sister Etaine M. As always, thank you to those of you who follow, favorite and review!