Okay, okay, here's the bladdy, blah, blah: I own nothing save for Adela (well and maybe her stylized halla figurine). Bioware has my eternal gratitude for creating this world and letting me play in their sandbox.
This is a flashback story. I am taking great liberties and going off canon - both from the game and the books. I'm certain David Gaider would forgive me (well, I hope so)…
DragonAge: Origins: The Halla Reborn
Chapter 2 - One Week Before Origins Event
Night was falling, and Adela found herself just leaving the palace to return home after a visit with Anora. The queen had heard of Adela's betrothal and had insisted upon having the younger woman over for a celebratory tea, which was actually a nice reprieve when compared to what she knew her cousin and friends had planned for her (she almost shudders at the thought). While Adela appreciated Anora's generosity, she had been more than a little uncomfortable with having been waited upon by the palace's elven servants, some of whom she knew from the Alienage. Shifting with her discomfort, she had been glad when she and Anora had been left alone, to gossip (as young women will), tell childhood tales (they did not share much in common, but it was interesting to swap tales nonetheless), or express (on Adela's part) trepidation regarding wedding night obligations. This conversation had the elven woman blushing profusely, while Anora tried to give her best regal advice. At one point, they were both laughing so hard one of the servants poked her head in, as it was rare that the queen would be caught so unguarded.
Now, her arms laden with small gifts, Adela wished she had taken Anora's offer of having one of the guards escort her back to the Alienage (she had seen Thurlow waiting at the door, willing to take the trek across the city to do so), but Adela had waved away the offer, saying she didn't want to take someone from their scheduled duties, and had left the palace without another word on the subject.
The journey through the noble section was relatively uneventful. She had noticed several noblemen entering the Arl's estate, one or two stopping to watch the lovely elven woman pass by. A sharp word from inside the doorway and the noblemen continued inward without a second glance back. Adela exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and continued on.
She continued her walk, her unease growing. There was nothing threatening, no one about that should or would cause her disquiet. No, at this time, it was memories that assailed her, memories she had believed to be so far into her past as to not be able to affect her now. She continued her walk homeward, the events of nine years before clouding her mind, yet her eyes kept sharp for any threat that may come. This time she returns home safely, the guard at the Alienage gave offering her a small smile as she passes through. She smiled back, glancing upwards toward her home, knowing that in just a few days' time, she will be meeting with the stranger who will be her husband and the house she grew up in will no longer be her home.
The two elves walked quietly through the main gates of the city. The elder, a beautiful woman with sunny blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and an intricate tattoo surrounding one eye, pulled her young daughter closer to her side as they continued through. Whispering words of encouragement in an ancient elven tongue, she encouraged her child as they continued on, through back streets, towards the marketplace. They had been out of the city longer than anticipated, Adaia determined to continue teaching her child the use of bow and blade, regardless of the shemlen's foolish rules that no elf bear weapons. She scoffed at their rules. Had she not been proficient with her own bow during the shemlens' own rebellion against the Orlesians, many would have died - including their king. She shook her head at the old memories and promises forgotten. Glancing down at her daughter, she did not regret not returning to her clan, instead remaining when she had met and fell in love with a skillful craftsman from Denerim Alienage. Still, she trusted no blade but her own, and wished fervently that things had indeed improved for the elves as had been promised. But, even promises from a king as good and kind hearted as Maric could not always be met, and so Adaia continued to teach her daughter in secret, and protect those of the Alienage as best as she could. She knew, as did many of the city guard and the elves themselves that she was all that stood between the elves being safe or being victims to the local shems' whims.
Adaia Mahariel Tabris pulled her daughter to a stop. Tilting her head, her sharp ears easily picked up the sound of feet scuffling upon stone ground, kicking small pebbles. Not much of an attempt at silence, she mused. Foolish shems. She turned, seeking the source, and realized that the sounds came from several places surrounding her and her daughter. Perhaps not so foolish, she amended. She reached under her cloak to the daggers she had sheathed there. True, she was well aware of the law against elves having weapons. But, it was a foolish law; one the proud Dalish hunter had little desire of obeying. She pushed her daughter forward, increasing their pace. She'd rather avoid a fight, especially with Adela so young, so inexperienced.
It was obvious that Adaia's desire to avoid a fight was not shared by those who stalked them. As she neared the center of the street, four men stepped from the shadows. Frowning, Adaia pulled Adela to a halt, cocking her head again, certain there were more about. Perhaps just watchers, she thought. And none would come to the aid of a couple of knife-ears, she realized bitterly.
"Well, well, well," one of the men stepped boldly forward, a lecherous grin on his face. "What do we have here? Coupla knife-ears." The other men, emboldened by their leader's initial confrontation, chuckled lewdly. The leader stepped closer, his grey eyes scanning Adaia's face and form with appreciation. "Come now, girly. How's about a roll?"
Adaia's face remained passive, yet fury roared within. How dare they? She pulled her daughter closer and to the side of her, allowing her hands to be free should she need to unsheathe her weapons. The rowdies' leader, unaware that a skilled Dalish warrior stood before him, stepped even closer. "Ah, yer brat can join the fun, too." He moved a hand toward Adaia's face, and she slapped it away, glaring menacingly at the much larger human male who stood before her. Still, only four men stood blocking her path. The others she sensed in the shadows were either bystanders or others waiting to block her path back. Either way, she'd get no help from them.
Anger crossed the harsh face before her. "Stupid knife-ear whore," he grunted at her, his hand going back and delivering a sharp backhanded blow to her face. "Learn your place!" The blow connected, staggering her slightly. Had she not assumed a battle stance, she would have been knocked from her feet by the strength behind the blow. The others advanced, and in one swift motion, she pulled her twin daggers taking a defensive stance over her daughter, who had remained quiet and calm, following her mother's previous instructions to the letter: If we encounter trouble, remain beside me; when an opportunity presents itself, run and do not look back. Adela remained at her mother's side, her eyes scanning for an exit. She felt her mother shove her away as Adaia moved forward to meet the oncoming men, they, too, armed with knifes and swords. Adela saw her chance, sprang away, and melted into the shadows. None of her mother's adversaries noticed.
Adela watched the battle from the shadows, unable to leave as the others who hid in the shadows surged forth, shouting their anger at the elf that dared draw a weapon against the humans. She watched as her mother spun and dipped, adroitly missing one clumsy swipe of a sword, spinning behind her attacker and quickly stabbing forth, into his back. He straightened in shock, and then slipped from her blade, blood surging forth from the wound as he slumped to the ground. A cry of outrage could be heard, and Adaia was swarmed from all sides by angered humans, intent upon murder of the mother defending her child.
Adela cried out as a child of barely ten summers would. Her own training forgotten, she stepped from the shadows, almost rushed to the scene, when her arm was caught and held tightly. She looked upon into the stern face of a raven haired human man. His noble countenance held barely retained fury as he pulled the girl aside. Then, with a commanding voice, he ordered the guardsmen with him forward. She watched as the armed guards hacked down those who had attacked her mother. Then, as the crowd fell away, Adela could see the bloody form of her mother - her proud, beautiful mother - lying motionless on the ground, the bodies of her four initial assailants lying not far from her. A sob escaped her lips, and she ran forward, not noticing that the man who had ordered the guards forward had followed closely behind. The child did not recognize her mother beneath the blood, and her sobs became wretched as she screamed out to the Maker and the Dalish gods, the Creators, to bring her mamae back. The man knelt beside her, gently pulling her away. Then, with tenderness and care he lifted Adaia's body from the cold, bloody ground, looked down at the child, startling blue eyes meeting paler blues, and walked away.
Adela followed, unsure where they were heading, but she knew it was away from the Alienage. Was he going to put her in prison? She had wondered fearfully. Then she saw it - the palace. Why here? Oh no…she was certain she'd be thrown into the dungeons. Panic erupted throughout her small body, but, she couldn't force herself to run away, to leave her mother with this unknown man.
The guards at the front gate gasped when they saw the tall man enter with the bloody figure of the elven woman in his arms. The front doors were immediately opened to allow him, his burden and the child following after him egress. The scowl deepened upon his face and he trudged through the palace, passed startled servants and appalled nobles as he pushed his way into the main chamber where an important meeting - the Landsmeet - was being held. A heated discussion was silenced as he stepped in. The king, heavy crown on his head, an almost bored expression upon his face, looked over and then stood up, boredom giving way to disbelief, then to anger and sorrow as the newcomer continued toward the throne, his burden feeling so very heavy in his strong arms. Maric slowly walked down the dais to stand before the man. He glanced down to see the small girl standing in the taller man's shadow, and a look of recognition and pain crossed the king's handsome face.
"Loghain, what has happened?" Maric asked, feeling foolish in the question.
Loghain, never taking his eyes from the face of the woman in his arms, shook his head before replying, "We should never have let her remain in Denerim," he replied, looking up into Maric's face. He then continued. "Not if we had no intention of honoring our promise to her." With that, Loghain turned around, and, with his guardsmen still behind him, one of whom had taken Adela's small hand in his, made the long walk to the Alienage, where the elves' heroine could be laid to rest.