Okay, okay, here is the usual disclaimer: 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.

As stated before, I'm not going canon with the game or the books - just a slight twist to make things fit to my story. This chapter is far too long, I know. But, I just had to type it.

And, thanks for the first reviews I've received! Zeeji, Biff McLaughlin, sandradee27, zevgirl, lisakodysam. They help keep me going knowing that some of you find it interesting.

DragonAge: Origins: The Halla Reborn

Chapter 3

Raising a smooth, long fingered hand to brush away an errant lock, Adela pulled her knees up, resting her chin upon them. Shianni had planned and pulled off a gathering of all of their female friends as a celebration to Adela's last day as a child. The young elf blushed as she tried not to think of the advice her most experienced friends offered for the wedding night. They were far more livid and detailed than the discussion she and Anora had shared a few nights prior.

Adela allowed a small frown to cross her lovely features. Why did Shianni invite Elva? She hated Adela. Oh, sure…she knew she and Shianni were drinking friends, but to invite her to Adela's celebration. The older elven woman, bitter from her own sorry union, sneered and insulted the bride-to-be at any opportunity. She took great pleasure in reminding all in attendance that the quality of Shianni's party could not compare to the gathering she must have had at the palace. Adela snorted indelicately. She was well aware that some in the Alienage - though hardly all, or even a majority - resented her friendship with the royals. They were like Elva - bitter, unhappy people who looked to others to blame for their miserable existence. Adela, and most others from the Alienage, knew well that her friendship with Cailan and Anora stemmed from a shared history - her mother had known the king, had fought by his side, as well as Queen Rowan and General Loghain's, during the rebellion. Upon Adaia's death, King Maric had taken to commissioning artwork from her father, prompting regular visits to the palace. Moreover, although Cailan was several years older than the Tabris girl was, he had taken to her quickly, chasing her in games of tag in the gardens or touring the palace. It was through Cailan she had met Anora, who had been quiet and, at first, disapproving of the friendship between the elven child and her betrothed. However, Adela's easygoing nature and direct honesty won the young woman over, and Anora found herself captivated by the child. Cailan and Anora had continued to commission much of their artwork from the Tabris family, and it was their patronage of the elven artist that had led to other nobles and notables to commissioning works of their own. Cyrion's renown as a skillful sculpture had grown, and their pockets were lined with enough money to keep a house of their own, one large enough to accommodate Cyrion, Adela and her two cousins, as well as afford a separate workshop and store front, with entrances into both the Alienage and Market Place. Hard work had earned their place. Years of understanding and an open honesty that neither of the current majesties could experience from their peers had created the friendship. Yet, there would always be those few who felt they were entitled, regardless of the effort they put into their lives.

A long, sad, loud sigh escaped her lips. It was that very same wealth that allowed her father to offer a dowry for Adela's intended husband. A man she had yet to meet. Word had arrived that he was within days of the Alienage, and they were to wed upon his arrival. Nelaros from the Highever Alienage. Apparently, he was from a good family, artisans and craftsmen such as her own. Nelaros was a blacksmith, who not only worked the more practical works of horseshoes, nails, and other such, but also was also known as creating works of art using iron and other metals. At least we will have something in common, she thought, trying to cheer herself up. She admitted to herself, it really wasn't working. She glanced up at the night's sky, stars twinkling overhead. The idea of tying herself to someone she had never met, simply so that she would no longer be considered a child. The idea did not sit well with her.

Slowly, she unfolded herself, and climbed down from the rooftop. Despite the fact that her party still went on, the young woman went into her home, shut the door to her room, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

"Cousin? Wake up, sleepy head!" a small, soft hand gently nudged her shoulder. "Time to wake up!"

A soft moan escaped her lips and she opened her eyes. Her room was bathed in gentle sunlight. Twisting her head, she spied her cousin, Shianni, leaning over her, a soft smile on her pretty features. "Shianni?" Adela sat up, brushing her unruly hair from her face. "Oh, it's morning! I…"

"Overslept?" Shianni chuckled. "Well, yes, you did. But, Uncle figured you deserved it. Even if you did leave your own party early!" With a playful swat to her arm, Shianni set herself down beside her cousin.

Adela looked askance at her cousin. "What's up?" She asked, knowing full well something was up, and she the feeling in the pit of her stomach assured her she knew exactly what was.

With a great smirk upon her face, Shianni confirmed, "Your betrothed, Nelaros. He's arrived!"

Silence. Adela knew her intended was within days of the Alienage, but he arrived even sooner than expected. While she knew she could not put it off, she had hoped for a day or two. She shook her head, rising from her bed. "He's early." Nothing like stating the obvious.

Shianni thought so, too. "Nothing gets by you," she laughed, standing up to grab her reluctant cousin by the hands and spinning her about. "Oh, but I caught a glimpse of him, Cousin," she winked suggestively, "and he's handsome!"

Feeling a bit defiant, Adela grumbled, "Well, at least Father didn't buy me an ugly stranger to wed."

Her cousin only laughed at the blonde elf's unusual surliness. "Come now! You didn't drink nearly enough last night to be so…"

"Honest? Understandably upset? Reluctant? Take your pick."

"Oh, but weddings are so…wonderful," a sigh escaped Adela's cousin's lips. "You are so lucky!"

Adela snorted in a way that would have made Anora cringed. "Then maybe you should marry him!"

Giggling, Shianni let go of her cousin's hands. "Trust me, Adela. If I thought I could get away with it, I certainly would!" Smirking at Adela's groan, Shianni stepped closer. "Come now, Cousin. You knew this day was coming. What do you think all the parties were for?"

Still in her rare moment of pique, Adela threw a retort, "An excuse for you to drink?"

"Phwt! Since when do I need an excuse?" Responded quickly and with great humor. The woman knew her weakness, and so was not insulted by her cousin's slur. She was a Tabris, and so accepted it. "Soris' bride arrived last night. He's sweating like a human! "The girl giggled at her elder brother's expense. Then, with a sigh, "Now, I have to get my dress from Nola. Your mother's dress is hanging up in your closet." Shianni turned from her cousin, and then glanced back over her shoulder. "Adela, it's supposed to be a happy day. Enjoy it." And, with those words, she walked out in search of her dress.

Alone, Adela strove to shake off her melancholy. Yes, she knew this day would arrive. Moreover, she knew she could not - would not - fight against tradition. It was too important. To important to her family, to her community, to the way elves sought to hold onto their old ways. Learn a trade or skill, marry to become an adult, give birth to many elven babies, and continue the cycle. Someday, she hoped, the elves would find more of their ways…she shook her head. The thought of wearing her mother's wedding dress caused thoughts of her mother - not just how she looked, or smelled, but thought - storming to mind. Would her mother be pleased for this day? Or would she rage against it? Stepping to her closet, she pulled the cream-colored dress from its hanger. Holding it against her, she stepped in front of her mirror. With her yellow blonde hair and blue-blue eyes, Adela knew she was near the spitting image of her mother. Smaller in stature, true. She remembered her mother as being taller than many of the men it the Alienage, whereas Adela was smaller than most women were. Her mother's dress had been altered to accommodate her smaller waist, chest and hips, and shortened - slightly - to just above her ankles. Removing her night shift, she changed her underclothes, and then pulled the lovely dress over her head. Smoothing out non-existent wrinkles, Adela smiled. She truly hoped her mother would be pleased for this day. After quickly brushing her hair, taming the waves and curls into an organized halo about her face, she stepped from the room and into the main area, where her father sat at the table, a thoughtful expression upon his face. He looked up and gasped at the sight of his daughter. Rising slowly, he stepped over to her, gazing down into her blue eyes.

"You look just like your mother did on our wedding day," he breathed, caught up in his memories of the woman he had loved since the first time he had seen her - fierce in her Dalish armor, a bow strapped across her back, daggers bared as she escorted the returned king into his city, through the marketplace and toward the palace. He shook himself from his revelries and noted that Adela smiled, though it did not quite touch her usually expressive eyes.

"I know you are not happy about this," he began, "but…"

Adela nodded, taking her father's hands in her own. "I may not be happy about it, but I understand my duty and place." She smiled truly then. "I just hope mother would approve."

Cyrion frowned just slightly. "It was hard to tell with your mother. But, I think mostly she'd want you to be happy." His expression turned serious. "Nelaros is from a good family, my girl. And I have heard very good things about him as well." When Adela merely nodded, he sighed. "You should probably go in search of Soris as well. His bride arrived last night, so we'll be having a double wedding." With a nod of obedience, and a quick kiss to her father's cheek, Adela left her home in search of her wayward cousin.

It did not take Adela long to locate her cousin. Soris, his red hair shining in the sunshine, his handsome face thoughtful, leaned against one of the piers holding up a decrepit porch. "Well, hello cousin," he greeted, his face brightening instantly as his favorite (and only) cousin stepped into the light before him, "Come to share one last moment of freedom before we jump off the pier?"

Giggling, Adela slid her arm through Soris', giving him a gentle shake. "Come on, Soris. Maybe it's not too late to run!"

"Ha!" There was no mirth in his tone, "And just where, dear cousin, would we run? To the Dalish?" His tone more than spoke sarcasm.

"Well, why not?" Adela stepped away, looking up into Soris' brown eyes. "Mamae was Dalish. Perhaps we could find her tribe…"

However, Soris was just shaking his head, immediately dismissing the idea, "Nope. We'll get lost. Or worst. And, I've no desire to find out what that 'worst' would be." He sighs. "Besides, why would you run? From what I've seen, your intended is a dream come true. Mine sounds like a dying mouse!"

False sympathy 'tsking' from her lips, Adela quipped, "I doubt she's that bad, Soris."

"Yeah, well, I suppose we should go and meet our fellow victims, eh?" With that, Soris grabbed Adela's hand, placing it on his arm, and all but dragged her to where their future spouses, and various wedding party members, waited.

Each step proved more difficult for Adela as they neared the small group standing under the platform where the ceremony would take place. Flowers and garlands decorated the stage as well as the Vhenadahl, the Tree of the People, and various surrounding porches and decks. Adela did smile at the effort her friends had put into making the setting as lovely as possible. She stopped, taking a deep breath. Soris stopped by her side, watching as his cousin composed herself, preparing herself for this next step in her life. Soris would never - ever - tell her this, but he had always looked up to her. She was always capable, always the one everyone turned to help settle a dispute or to simply lend a helping hand. Her community was very important to her. He knew the circumstances surrounding Adaia's death, and he had always felt that Adela had taken up her mantle, though with words and simple actions rather than bow and blade. In many ways, she was his hero. And he would never let her in on that fact. Therefore, he stood by her side, watching her compose herself. She glanced at him, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. Then, with a slight tilt of her head, her eyes brightened, her smile widened, and she gripped her cousin's strong arm, pulling him toward the wedding party. A chuckle escaped Soris' lips as he stumbled along beside his cousin.

Shianni stood with Nola and several other women from the Alienage. He spotted Nelaros and Velora - his bride - standing slightly apart. Nola touched Shianni's arm and pointed toward the approaching groom and bride. Smiling broadly, both women raised hands in greeting as Shianni stepped forward toward her family.

Another party joined the group - this one composed of three human men. One man reached out and took hold of Nola's arm, pulling her forcefully into and against him as a hand reached over and around her waist. Nola screamed out a sharp "No! Let go of me!" as one of the elven men - Toran - stepped forward to pull her from the human's grasp. "Please, milords! This is a wedding!" the youth cried as he pulled Nola away. The human scowled deeply, striking the young man across the face, felling him easily. "Watch it, knife-ears! Or you'll feel much the same," he growled at the fallen man.

"Gentlemen, please, please…" the leader of the pack, a handsome young man with red hair and green eyes, almost purred. "This is a party." He leered openly at the women of the wedding party. "Grab a whore and have some fun!" His compatriots chuckled, one approaching Shianni, taking hold of her by the shoulders. The feisty redhead struggled, shrugging his hands off "Get off me, you son of a pig…"

"Now, now…' the redhead growled, "none of that. We're just here for some fun."

During this exchange, Adela and Soris had approached. Soris reached over, grabbing hold of Adela's arm. "Cousin, let's not get involved," he murmured, fear creeping into his voice.

Adela shot her cousin a sharp glance. "Don't get involved?" she breathed, incredulity in her voice. "How can we not be? That's Shianni and our friends. We cannot allow them to hurt anyone!"

Soris let out a frustrated sigh. He did not like where this was heading. "Fine, fine. But, let's try and be diplomatic about it," he responded, immediately wanting to kick himself. Telling Adela to be diplomatic? The girl was nothing if not diplomatic.

Adela was thinking along the same lines, judging from the hard, level look she bestowed upon her quivering cousin. She turned toward the others, and it was then the ringleader of the humans noticed her. His eyes - cold and hard as emeralds - brightened and softened just a bit, and the harsh lines around his eyes and mouth eased just a bit as he stepped toward the lovely elven woman.

"Ah, and what have we here?" he quipped, his voice softer as he spoke to Adela. A brief look of confusion crossed Adela's face as she took note of the change in demeanor. The redhead reached over and took the young woman's hand, bringing it up to his lips. "Such a lovely one," he murmured, kissing her hand. Behind him, his friends laughed.

Finding her voice, Adela replied, trying to keep her voice steady and free of fear, "Please, my lord. Perhaps you could take your party elsewhere. We are preparing for celebrations here…"

"You've a lot of nerve, knife-ears!" one of the others shouted at Adela. Nevertheless, the redhead merely shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. "Ah…but we, too, are preparing for celebrations," he bent down, his face mere inches from Adela's, "and you, my lovely one, are most certainly invited."

Adela was shaking her head at the tall man, trying to maintain a calm she knew the others needed her to. "But, my lord, we will not be able to accept such an invitation. Perhaps another time?"

The redhead chuckled, shaking his handsome head in the negative. "I do apologize, dear one, but our…my celebrations simply cannot wait for yours to conclude," he leaned closer, "I have watched you far too long to deny myself the…pleasure of your company any longer." The look that crossed his face was purely possessive, and it frightened Adela enough that she took a cautious step back.

It was then that a sharp 'crack' sound erupted, and the redhead standing over Adela slumped, unconscious, to the ground at her feet. Surprised, she looked up to see Shianni standing there, an amazed look upon her face and the fragments of a heavy wine bottle in her hand. Had the situation not been so dire, Adela would have laughed at the befuddled look upon her cousin's face.

"What have you done?" one of the humans demanded, he and his lone pal rushing forth. As he stooped to check on his fallen leader, the other said, "Do you know who this is? This is Vaughan Kendalls, the Arl of Denerim's son!" He moved to help his friend pick up the unconscious form of Vaughan.

Shaking herself, Adela stepped toward the two enraged humans, "Just…take him home. Get him cleaned up and tended to. Things got out of hand here, as I am certain we are all sorry. Just take this as a lesson that perhaps we elves will not always stand still to be victimized." Her voice was calm, almost soothing, but the humans would have none of it.

"You'll pay for this, you knife-eared bitch!" he sneered in Adela's face as he and his friend carried Vaughan from the Alienage.

A sudden trembling coursed through Adela, adrenaline and dread rushing throughout her limbs. Shianni slumped forward, her head hanging, fear clearly shining in her brown eyes. "I've really done it this time!" she all but wailed, certain she had doomed them all.

Leave it to Soris. "Don't worry, Sis. I doubt very much Vaughan and his cronies will want it getting out that he was taken down by an elven woman and her faithful bottle of wine!" Soris did not feel the bravado evident in his voice, but knew it was the only means to calm his volatile sister.

And, it worked, to some extent. Glancing down at her dress and hands, she whispered, "I should go….clean up." She looked up into Adela's face. "The wedding will be starting soon." and walked back toward their house.

A sharp hiss from behind her brought Adela's attention from Shianni's retreating back to Soris. With a heavy sigh (what else could go wrong?), she turned to face her cousin.

Soris grinned weakly at her, pointing toward the two elves - a man and a woman - that approached. "Don't look now, but our betrotheds are making their way over."

'Oh' she mouthed as she turned fully to watch their approach. The young woman was plain, with dark brown hair, too large ears, and light brown eyes. However, she had a pleasant expression and looked like someone more used to smiling than frowning. Just what Soris needed, she thought. Her attention was then drawn to the man, and she nearly caught her breath at his beauty. She chuckled to herself. Most men did not want to be called beautiful, but, unfortunately, with as attractive race as the elves were, more often than not, even the men were considered beautiful. And Nelaros was no exception. Short blonde hair tucked behind pointed ears, and piercing blue eyes sought her out and held her gaze. He was tall for an elf, and by his build, it was obvious that he knew the value of hard labor. The way he walked also suggested that he had received some warrior training, and that, more than his good looks, pleased Adela more than anything had. More than likely, this was a man who knew when to fight for those he cared for. She smiled as he approached, and was pleased when her smile was returned tenfold.

With a nervous clearing of his throat, Soris stepped to the new arrivals, taking his place beside the woman. "Cousin, this is Velora, my bride," both women nodded to each other, smiles plastered on their faces.

"So this," Adela turned to the man, "must be my husband to be?" She surprised herself at the slightly flirtatious quality her voice had taken on.

Nelaros did not miss the inflection, and grinned approvingly at the lovely woman before him, "I am lucky to be so warmly welcomed," he replied, a cheerful glint in his eyes. Adela found herself blushing under his scrutiny, and she found she enjoyed the sensation. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

With those words, Soris and Velora stepped to the side, conversing in low tones as they tried to get to know each other just moments before they were to wed. Adela looked up at Nelaros, her breath catching in her throat at the intensity of his gaze.

"Nervous?" Nelaros asked, an obvious nervous catch in his voice.

Nervousness did course through Adela's small frame. She was pleased with what she had observed of Nelaros so far. He definitely made a good first impression. But the thought of what was to follow the wedding…"Yes, very much so." she answered honestly, looking up into his gem blue eyes.

They stood staring into each other's eyes for a moment, then, as one, they exhaled the nervous breaths and laughs they held. Grinning shyly at each other, they moved closed. Nelaros bent his head down, and placed a soft kiss on Adela's lips. As he moved away, a smile on his face, Adela bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Glad we got that out of the way," Nelaros whispered as he took her hand, noting that it was trembling. Adela took comfort in the fact that his hand trembled as well.

She nodded, "It wouldn't do for our first kiss to be the one at the ceremony," she giggled.

Soris stepped back toward the pair, a concerned look on his face. "Cousin, we should let them get ready for the wedding," he prodded, nudging her shoulder with his. Taking her off from her betrothed, Adela shot Soris an irritated scowl. Her expression softened when she noticed the concerned look upon his face.

Nodding her agreement, she shot Nelaros another warm smile and he and Velora walked away toward the houses they were temporary housed in to prepare for the wedding.

She turned back to her cousin, noting that his face was taut, eyes fixed on a figure just beyond the Vhenadahl. Oh, wonderful! Another human. Rolling her eyes in frustration, she grasped Soris' arm, pulling him along with her. "Wha…what are you doing, Adela?" he gasped, trying to keep up with the smaller, quickly moving woman.

"We cannot afford another incident," she muttered. "We need to face this one off before things continue to spiral out of control."

Soris shook his head, "I thought you handled Vaughan the others well enough," he muttered. Nevertheless, Adela shook her head, "Perhaps, but Shianni's little braining incident can only cause more problems. Let's see if we can avert a problem peacefully for a change." Soris had no option but to be pulled along by the surprisingly strong elven woman.

Their target was an older human man, tall with a muscular build. Dark brown hair hung in a short ponytail in the back, and his face - creased with lines that betrayed hardship - sported a short beard. Fine silverite armor encased his form, and a sword and dagger were sheathed upon his back. He appeared calm, almost serene as he surveyed the Alienage. His expression turned quickly to intense interest as he spied the two elves walking with purpose in his direction.

"Hello. And blessings on this joyous day," he replied in a deep voice, bowing slightly to the pair as they approach.

Adela stopped, her pose immediately shifting from hostile to a calmer, more relaxed stance. "And, we thank you for your blessings," she replied politely, her eyes taking in the figure before her. He was obviously an accomplished warrior and she, being unarmed and unarmored, did not wish an incident. Still… "However, we need to ask that you lease the Alienage before any unpleasantness should occur." Her voice offered no quarter, almost a command. A dark brow quirked upwards at her words, and dark eyes skimmed swiftly over the diminutive form before him. He noted the relaxed stance, the frankness of the gaze leveled upon him. No fear showed in her eyes. So like her mother, he thought as he bowed slightly.

"And what unpleasantness do you refer to?" he asked quietly, continuing to scrutinize the young elf standing before him. He did not miss the nervous shift of feet on the male elf's part, and quickly ignored his presence, bestowing his full attention upon the woman.

Adela quickly stifled the urge to sneer - that would accomplish nothing. Making certain to maintain an impassive, calm demeanor, she replied, "Come now. A lone human making his way through the Alienage, during a time of celebration." she quirked a blonde brow at him, almost mimicking his prior expression. "There will be those who will see this as an invasion and may well cause some trouble. So, in the interest of avoiding such an issue, I ask, yet again, for you to leave."

"And if I refuse?" Was that humor she saw reflected in his eyes? She allowed her expression to hard some before responding, "Things may well get beyond my control." Voice was steady, although she was trembling inside, her stomach fighting a fluttering feeling that almost made her feel ill. Still, she could not back down. He had to leave.

"And I refuse yet again," damn that calm voice! "What now?"

Adela let out a steadying breath, "Surely we can compromise…"

"Ah, so the rumors of your bravery in the face of aggression are not exaggerated," the human responded, a pleased tone in his voice. It was then that Velendrian, the Alienage hahren - or elder - stepped forward. The human turned his attention to the old elf and said, "Facing an armed and armored human, and this young one shows no fear. A fine quality, would you not agree, old friend?"

Adela's eyes widened as the familiarly the human showed the elder. Velendrian replied, a smile on his wizened face, "Ah, yes, the world can certain use more who know when to stay their blades," and turned a proud smile upon the young woman.

Flushing slightly with embarrassment, Adela, turned to the human. "I apologize," she bowed respectfully; "I did not know what you were a friend of the hahren."

A chuckle escaped his lips as the human waved aside her apology. "No, I should be the one to apologize. I was hardly forthcoming." His smile widened and he bowed deeper to the young woman. "My name is Duncan of the Grey Wardens."

The eyes of both young elves widened. A Grey Warden! Here? However, before they could voice their questions, Velendrian turned to his friend with his own. "What brings you here, old friend?"

"I'm afraid the worse has happened, my friend," Duncan's demeanor turned serious immediately. "A Blight is coming and I am seeking recruits for the Wardens."

The trepidation was clear in the old elf's voice as he shot Adela a sad glance. "Ah, I had heard the rumors. And we understand," he bowed his head toward Adela, "that King Cailan has left for Ostagar to battle some darkness there." He turned back to Duncan. "However, we have a wedding - two in fact - to attend to this day, and I fear that rumors of Blight and darkspawn truly have no place during our time of celebration."

A frown briefly crossed Duncan's features, and he quickly stifled it. Bowing again, he said, "By all means. Attend to your celebrations. My task can wait until later." As these words left his mouth, he looked briefly at Adela, bowed again to the hahren, and turned to take a place to observe the platform. Confused by the exchange, Adela went moved toward the Grey Warden. Velendrian, however, caught her arm, shaking his head. "Children, you must take your places." And, with that, the elder walked toward the platform. Frowning at each other, the pair moved toward the stage and up the stairs. Adela glanced back to see Duncan watching her with great interest. Shaking her head, she took her place beside Nelaros. Smiling warmly, Nelaros grasped her slightly clammy hand in his own equally clammy one. Adela looked up, determined that any fears or concerns she had would ease away, and she would be pleased to continue with the traditions of her folk.

The priest, one of the few who would enter the Alienage, called Velendrian toward center stage. The elder expounded upon the elven community, how it stood together, and represented their freedom from the bonds of slavery. He was interrupted by shouts from off stage, which grew louder. Frowning deeply, the elder turned to view half dozen guardsmen - the Arl's guardsmen - flanked by Lord Vaughan and his two cronies from earlier. The priest stepped forward with a protest, "My lord!" She scolded, "This is a wedding!" To which the arrogant lord responded, "Oh come now, Mother. You can dress your pets up for any party, but don't presume to call this a proper wedding!" Vaughan's cold green eyes searched the stage, and a predatory smile creased his features as they fell upon the form of Adela. "We're having a party," he said with a laugh as he moved toward the blonde elf, "And, ah, we find ourselves short female guests." His friends laughed lewdly, leering openly at the women who stood with both bridal couples. Vaughan started pointing out the 'female guests' and then exclaimed, "And where's the bitch that bottled me?" Turning around at the sound of guffawing, he spied her. "Here she is, Vaughan!" one of his friends cried, grabbing hold of Shianni. Ever a spitfire, the elven woman struggled out of his grasp, only to be met with stronger hands than expected. "Oh…" Vaughan purred, "We'll have some fun taming her. But, let's see." he turned his attention back to Adela, the possessive look - one the spoke purely of ownership - back in his eyes as he approached her.

Nelaros put his hands on Adela's shoulders, trying to pull her behind him, "I won't let him touch you!" he fervently promised his bride, courage replacing his earlier nervousness, his eyes rising to boldly meet Vaughan's cold gaze. No fear, Adela realized. He would protect those he loves. A warmth - pride - welled in her chest. Her father had indeed chosen well for her. "We can't let them take the others," she whispered back. Nelaros nodded, placing himself in front of her to block Vaughan's advancement.

"See the pretty bride," Vaughan murmured, all but ignoring Nelaros' presence. "You villain!" Nelaros exclaimed, moving to stand directly in front of the human lord. "You will not touch her!" Seeming to see him for the first time, Vaughan's eyes narrowed, utter hatred clear. "You truly think you can stop me, runt?" he all but roared, raising his hand and striking Nelaros to the ground. Nelaros scrambled back to his feet, but not as quickly as he would have liked. Vaughan had his hands on Adela and was pulling her towards him.

"Let the others go, my lord," Adela was saying in soft, soothing tones, quelling her own fears.

Looking deeply into her eyes, Vaughan sighed, "Then we wouldn't have our party, now, would we, my lovely one?" Nelaros surged forward, but one of the lord's guardsmen tackled the young elf, pressing him to the ground beneath his armored weight, striking him soundly in the face, briefly stunning him. Struggling against the stronger man, Nelaros could only watch as Adela tried, in vain, to reason with the human who held her too tightly. He saw something flash in Vaughan's eyes - and dread filled the young elf's heart. The lordling had come specifically for her, his bride. He knew that Adela did not know this man; when they had entered the Alienage earlier there was no doubt none of them knew who this man was. However, the lord obviously knew her - or knew of her. Nelaros realized, immediately, if he did not free her, he would never see her again. His struggles became more desperate, and he let out an anguished cry as one of Vaughan's men, tired of Adela's struggles and words, struck her sharply across the face, felling her, unconscious, to the stage floor. Vaughan rounded angrily upon his fellow, punching him square in the face, staggering him, and warned him if he ever placed his hands on her again, he would never live to regret it. The guard holding Nelaros down chuckled darkly as they watched Vaughan gently pick Adela up from the stage, and carry her away, the other women unwillingly towed along behind.

As the guard rose, he kicked Nelaros in the head, and he, too, fell into unconsciousness.