Credits:

Portuguese Beta: Rohh Lael

English Beta: wintryone

Artwork: goo. gl /9ZyHE (without the spaces)

Disclaimer: Dragon Age Universe belongs to Bioware.

"The rain is falling,

The rain is falling now
Can i be changed?
Or am I the same?"

-Revis, Rain

Chapter 5

(Not so) Nice to meet you!

.

Kallian

One. Two. Three.

Ignoring other's looks was a specialty of mine. Let's say, I have practiced it all my life. It was a gift.

Four. Five. Six.

Patience was another thing that I practice very often. However, I was not so good at it. Especially when I was surrounded by Shems who thought that I was their servant.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

I was confused by their assumptions: messenger, servant, messenger, whore, messanger, slave... Have I mentioned messenger? I'd been there for only a half hour and I was angry beyond bearing.

Ten.

It was the number of times I took a deep a breath to keep me from hitting anyone. It was the number of times I had counted to ten to not answer anyone. It was the number of times I had almost lost my self-control.

I have to tell you, my friend, that when the quartermaster started to yell at me because he'd confused me with another elf who'd stolen is armor, I decided I'd had enough.

I'd gathered my sketchbook and my coal pieces and looked for a quiet place as far as possible from the other people. For some reason, the soldiers avoided the edges of the ruins, especially those near the cliffs. And that was the place I had chosen.

The view was beautiful.

The rocks and trees mingled as if they were one. The sky was overcast, but the leaves glowed every time the wind blew. It was cold, especially upon the rock on which I sat on, but it did not bother me. I was grateful for the silence.

I opened my sketchbook carefully so my paper wouldn't fly away. I'd kept all the drawings I'd done since I was younger - my parents, my cousins, friends and all who got my attention, and included little footnotes sometimes.

My drawings were my connection with the past - with my family.

I looked carefully at the only sketch I had of my mother – Smiling, with her arms wide open.

That was how I always remembered her - a kind look and a warm smile. The strongest and most fearless person I've ever known.

I wondered what she would think of all of this if she were alive.

I nodded a couple of times and concentrated on organizing the other sketches.

What they were doing right now?

I realized that looking at their faces was bringing the memories back - all the things I wished to forget, so I gave up. I safely tucked them back inside the sketchbook and pulled out a blank paper instead. My hand started to work on its own. Normally that's what always happened. I did not use models for drawing; I just tried to transfer to the paper the mental image I had of each person. How I remembered them. It worked most of the time.

Duncan's face was slowly appearing on the paper. He did not smile, but wasn't angry either. He was just calm - with a serene, relaxed expression. The corners of his lips were slightly curving upwards.

I was not sure how much time I spent there, but it was probably time to seek Alistair. I stood up and gathered my things, walking the same way I'd come. However, there was a group of soldiers crowded in the middle of the passage.

As I was not willing to hear more jokes, I decided to skirt around them and cut onto a parallel path that still went in the right direction. It would take twice as long, but at least I would have some peace.

I only realized my mistake when my foot sank into a rotten wood and I started to fall.

Noah was sitting opposite his tent with a bucket of water in his hands. He had exchanged his armor with the one Duncan had prepared for him, with some small adjustments of his own. He never liked heavy armor, despite having always fought on the front lines. He lost too much mobility. So the first thing he did was to remove the shoulder pads and parts of the forearm, thigh, gloves and boots. He just kept the chest plate, part of the greaves and the brace and elbow protections. To complete the set, he kept the leather boots he'd worn earlier and bandaged his wrists, hands and fingers with a thick bandage. Everyone always said he was incredibly stupid, but he always relied on his agility to compensate for the lack of protection.

Noah took a deep breath and poured the bucket over his head. Though he had been careful not to wet his body, he shivered with the cold water touching his neck. It was almost a torture, but he needed something to tell him that everything was real.

"Trying to cool down that hot head of yours, Noah?" Duncan asked, approaching.

"Literally," Noah replied with his lips trembling slightly.

"The armor was not of your liking?" Duncan said pointing to the pile of discarded parts.

"Yes, it was." Noah vigorously shook his head, removing the excess of water from his hair. "I just removed the unnecessary parts." He ran a hand through his hair. "This armor is way too heavy. It would only slow me down."

"I see." Duncan sat beside him.

There was a long moment of silence before either of them said anything.

"She brought a sketchbook to a war," Noah said in a low voice, but there was no anger in it.

"Hmm." Duncan thought for a moment before answering.

"She's a child," Noah continued. "She will not make it. ... She-"

"Why do you hate her, Noah?" Duncan interrupted him.

"I..." Noah rubbed his face. "I don't hate her."

"Then why is it everything she does bothers you so much?"

"She remembers how I was before ..." The words got stuck in Noah's throat. "Before everything happened." He paused. I thought I knew everything, Duncan. I had always believed that I always knew best. Even if it turned out I was wrong, I knew I could handle whatever happened. I was never afraid to confront anyone, even though I knew I could not win." He stared at the floor." And look what happened. I lost everything." He looked at Duncan. "Duncan, she's not ready. Believe me, I know."

"And you, are you ready?"

"I'm lost, Duncan," Noah confessed. "And every time I look at her, I remember someone I used to be and that now I can no longer find."

"Maybe you don't have to. You are who you are, and that will never change," Duncan said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I know you're confused now, Noah. It's a lot for someone to handle at once. Your heart is blinded by pain and anger, but I assure you that when you can finally break free from this prison, you will see that what you were looking for was with you all the time."

"You're going to finish this speech with 'One day you'll understand', aren't you?" Noah raised his eyebrows and gave Duncan a small smile.

"You know me well, my friend," Duncan smiled and stood. "I'll be here when you're ready," He made a nod and walked toward the big pyre.

"Duncan!" Noah called, standing up. "Thank You."

"Hey You!" A voice called in the distance. Kallian thought they were talking to her, but she couldn't find her voice to answer it. "Hey!"

She slowly opened her eyes, annoyed with the light. She was lying on the floor, the very cold floor. She looked around slowly, trying to remember what happened. Her head ached. When she ran a hand through her hair, she felt the bump.

Then it all made sense.

She fell into a hole and fainted. She just didn't know for how long.

"Hey, you! Wake up!" The voice called from above her. At the top of the hole, there was a young man with black, bristling hair and sapphire eyes, looking at her. "Can you move?"

She did not answer; instead, she sat slowly checking for damage. Her head was still spinning a bit, but at least the light wasn't bothering her anymore.

"Well, it seems that you didn't break anything. I thought you were dead," he said watching Kallian stand. "Can you climb?"

"Maybe," Kallian said, hoarsely. The walls were made of irregular bricks, faulty enough to climb. For those who grew up climbing walls and houses to escape the guards, it was nothing. However, her injured leg disagreed.

"I'll get down," he said, disappearing from sight.

Great, stuck in a hole with a shem. That's all I needed...Kallian thought.

Not long afterwards, a rope was thrown down where she was, and the human started to climb down.

"There's no need for you to come down," she said putting her hands near her daggers. "Just help me with the rope!"

The man looked at her and returned to his original position. "Hold tightly then and I'll pull when you're ready."

Kallian narrowed her eyes and watched. If he'd had other intentions, he wouldn't have missed the opportunity to come down. Slowly, she picked up her sketchbook and wrapped the rope around her waist and her good leg. "Ready!"

The man began to pull. With her hands and one leg, she helped him, pushing herself up using the gaps in the wall.

"You got lucky," he said when he finally brought her back to the surface. "This area is full of abandoned ground wells. The one you fell in was three, maybe four meters deep. If it were another deeper one, you could have died from the fall."

"Thanks for the help," she said still on alert, while sitting a few feet away from him.

"What kind of work brought you over here? Are you looking for someone?" She was being mistaken for a servant again. But his voice held no trace of provocation or scorn, which made Kallian swallow the rude words she had planned to say.

"I am not a servant," Kallian said crossing her arms.

"No? Then ... Ah!" The young man exclaimed, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "You must be the new recruit that everyone is talking about!"

"Excuse me?" Kallian squinted. They are talking about me? No way!

"Yes, the elf recruited for the Grey Wardens. All the soldiers have been placing bets on you."

"What kind of bets?" She gave him a piercing look that made him uncomfortable.

"Well, they want to know if you will succeed," He said suddenly embarrassed to talk about it in front of the person most involved in the matter.

"And what exactly are the numbers?"

"Not very favorable to you," He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And your bet was...?" Kallian looked hesitant. For some reason, she was finding his embarrassment quite fun.

"Against you, I'm afraid," He said after a while.

"I'm sorry, but you will lose your money. Hopefully you didn't put all your savings on my failure, did you?"

"A pretty good part," He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, that was awkward."

"A little," Kallian said, standing up. She felt her leg hurt. She probably only fell on it wrong… Just now as it was getting better ... Kallian thought.

"Are you hurt?" He asked standing up as well.

"It's only an old injury."

"Can I take a look?" He offered.

"No," she said sharply. The stranger retreated.

"Well... Here, take it." He took a red packet from his pocket and handed it to her. She questioned him with a look. "There's an injury kit, bandages and potions inside."

"Thanks for your help ... and for this," She gestured to the small package.

"Like I said, you got lucky. Nobody usually comes here." He took a great sword from the ground and placed it into his back. His body was similar to Noah's – strong arms and broad shoulders. This man, however, was far younger than Noah. Kallian didn't know if Noah was in fact older, or if it was just his past experiences that made him look weary.

"So what were you doing here, then?" Kallian looked around. From the position of the sun in the sky, she didn't think she was unconscious for long - maybe for an hour or less.

"Well..." He shifted his weight between his feet, uncomfortably. "I was bringing the pack to my sister," he began, looking at the horizon. "We had a stupid discussion for stupid reasons and we ended up fighting... She was hurt and left the camp very angry."

"When you say fight..."

"Yep, literally. It happens once or twice in a while," he said sadly, "It was my fault," he admitted. "At the time, when I was angry with her, I didn't care, but she has not returned yet. Then I had decided to go after her." He motioned with his hands as they walked back to camp.

"Here, take it back," Kallian handed him the red packet. "She must need it more than I do."

"No, seriously, she is probably fine." He rose his hand refusing.

They walked in silent for a while.

"Why did you fight?" Kallian asked.

"My sister overshadows me." He lowered his head. "She is everything I want to be, but I can't because she doesn't let me. And that's the reason for all our fights. No exception. But I do not want to talk about it."

"Okay," She watched him closely. He was visibly worried.

"I can help you if you want to search for her," Kallian offered.

"No. You must have your own Warden things to do." They stopped near the Mage's Quarters.

"Okay. I'll stay here then. I have to find someone and I'm probably late. Thanks for everything," she smiled.

"It was a pleasure to meet you ... erh..." He looked at her, a question in his eyes.

"Kallian Tabris," she said and reached out to him.

"Carver Hawke," He greeted her with a smile, squeezing her hand tightly. With a nod, he headed toward the soldier camp.

Kallian looked around, still half dazed by the fall. I wonder where this guy Alistair is? She thought, as she walked back to the heart of the camp.