Same old, same old: I own nothing save for Adela (well and maybe her stylized halla figurine, although I seem to recall Loghain pocketing that. *shrugs* go figure). 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.
Also, I've updated and corrected some typos in the previous chapters. My thanks to Biff McLaughlin who pointed out a bit of confusion as to the time line. I hope I've fixed that (Chapter 1 is 2 years prior to the origins events; chapter 2 a week prior, chapter 3 a day prior, and then moving on in the present). As always, reviews are welcome; and I also appreciate constructive criticism. How else can I improve my writing?
And, thanks for the reviews! O.G. Green, Kira Tamarian, mutive, Bigg McLaughlin. They help keep me going knowing that some of you find it interesting. I've noticed a few others have been placing the story (and me!) on their favorites/alert lists. Thank you so much! Sometimes I need that ego boost!
DragonAge: Origins: The Halla Reborn
Chapter 7
Loghain stared at the flap allowing egress into his tent. Adela is here? In Ostagar? The thought brought a slight groan to his lips, and he turned away, frustrated and angry at this turn of events. She should not be here! Damn that Duncan! He spied his table - piles of parchments and maps neatly stacked, one large map encompassing the ruins of Ostagar spread out over the rest. Moving over to the table, he let his eyes settle on the chalk marks - gold - indicating what Cailan and the royal troops would set their front lines. Further to the south was marked in white chalk where Loghain and his troops would await the signal to come in and flank the enemy forces, sandwiching the monsters between the two forces. The plan had merit save for one blaring weakness: because of Loghain's vantage - or rather lack thereof - they needed to depend upon the beacon in the Tower of Ishal to be lit so that the general would know when to send in his troops. Loghain would have to send one of his soldiers in to do so. He leaned over the map, nodding his head, forcing all thoughts of the elven girl from his mind.
DA:O
Adela wandered through the camp, searching for the quartermaster's stall. She did not notice the appreciative glances tossed her way or the lingering gazes. She paused briefly by the platform upon which stood a priest, quoting the Chant of Light, offering up prayers for the few soldiers who stood or knelt on the ground below. Adela believed in the Maker, but also revered the gods of her mother's people - the Creators. Of those gods, Adela revered June, God of Craft. She dipped to her knees, offered a brief prayer of thanks to both the Maker and June, and then rose to continue on her search for stall.
Finally, she spotted the area that had to the quartermaster - what with all the armaments and other various supplies strewn about. Pulling off her pack, she entered the area, starting to pull her mother's armor from the depths.
"Er! You there!" the man who had to be the quartermaster shouted at her, his hands waving wildly at her. "Where you been, girl! Where's the armor you was to deliver? And," he scowled, "why are you dressed so preposterously?"
Taken aback, Adela glanced down at her breeches and tunic. Preposterously? What? Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted. "I was talkin' to you, girl!" the quartermaster continued.
"Now just wait a moment, sir!" Adela found her voice. "I am unsure as to what you are talking about. Do you think I'm one of your servants?"
The balding man took a step back, this time actually looking at the girl before him. It was then he noticed the elegantly curved bow on her back and the pair of fine daggers sheathed at her hips. Oh…"I apologize," he mumbled. "All you elves look alike to me."
Fine brows rose at that. "Hmm…well, if you must know, I am a Grey Warden recruit." She actually took satisfaction in watching the man pale a bit. He was rude to a Grey Warden? She continued. "And," she pulled her armor out of the pack, "I have armor here that I need adjusted to my size." She took a measuring look of the man. "You can accommodate this request, correct?" She did not notice the dark young man who stood beside the stall, now watching the exchange with cheerful interest. She did take note of the quartermaster's nod. "Fine. Here." She handed him the armor.
The man stared at the pieces of armor she handed to him, a frown furrowing his brow. "Two pieces?" He looked up.
"Its Dalish armor," she advised him, now concerned about her mother's armor. "It's in two pieces to allow more freedom of movement. You've probably noticed that women are built differently than men?" She quirked up one brow; the man nodded numbly. "Well, because our muscle structure is different, and for those of us who rely on agility and dexterity as opposed to brute strength, we need to be able to move. This," a sweep of her hand indicated the armor the man now held. "allows for that freedom of movement." She looked up and smiled into the man's dazed brown eyes. Win them over with bullshit, she smirked as Shianni's words came to mind. "Now, can you make the adjustments?" She smiled sweetly at him.
The quartermaster nodded. "I'll just need to size it to you. Please, please step this way."
Adela followed the man around a corner, where he took each piece of armor and held it up against the girl. After muttering some, making a few marks on the armor with some chalk, he nodded.
"I can have it to you in a few days," he said as he set the armor aside. But, Adela shook her head, handing over Cailan's parchment. "I'm sorry, my good man, but I need it in a few hours. Here," she placed the scroll in the man's hands. She watched, slightly amused, as he read the king's commandment. He looked up at the elven girl and then back down at the scroll, king's seal and all, and then back at the girl. Then, with a snarling growl, he said he'd have it done in a few hours, and suggested she leave him be so he could get to work.
"Oh, wait," she halted the man. "May I see your wares?" she fluttered her eyelashes, well aware the man was annoyed with her. It worked. "I need some arrows. Oh! And, do you happen to have any cheese…?" she chattered as she followed the man through the stall.
After making several purchases, remembering to put them all on the Grey Warden account, Adela walked from the stall, tucking her prizes into her pack and slinging a quiver full of arrows over her shoulder.
The dark man who had been watching the exchange sidled up beside Adela. "So," he chuckled in a friendly, smooth voice, "got to put that fool in his place, did ya?"
Glancing up at the man, Adela turned fully toward him. "Who might you be?" she asked, stepping back from him. He had been standing far too close for her comfort.
"Me? Name's Daveth." He puffed his chest out. "I'm a Grey Warden." he bragged.
"Oh really?" Adela smiled. "Well, I'm a recruit, just arrived with Duncan." she held out a small hand. "I look forward to joining your order."
Daveth's entire countenance and posture relaxed, and genuine pleased smile crossed his lips, softening his face a bit. "So, you're the new recruit are you? Well, so am I. I'm not a Warden yet." he eyed her critically, taking her hand in a firm shake. "'Bout time you showed up. Was startin' to get bored, what with only some uppity knight to talk with."
Laughing as she released Daveth's hand, Adela introduced herself. "I don't suppose you know anything about the joining?" She had to ask. She was so curious about the darned thing, especially since Duncan wouldn't say a word about it. She was disappointed when Daveth shook his head.
"Sorry, but no. Only thing I could figure is that we're gonna be sent into the Wilds."
"The Wilds?"
Daveth nodded sagely, "Oy, yeah. I grew up around here, been in the Wilds a time or two meself. Kinda creepy what with witches and barbarians and such. But, I gather it's some kind of a test." The man watched the elf carefully. She didn't seem too concerned, which was fine by him. At least she wasn't a coward. And, she's pretty. He grinned. Very pretty. Maybe….
"Well," Adela spoke, shaking Daveth from his thoughts. "I suppose we'll find out later. Now, I need to find the Warden called Alistair."
A bark of laughter came from Daveth. "Oh, yeah. You'll find him thata way," he waved and pointed up the ramp slightly behind them. Tapping his nose, he added, "You'll know him when you see him, trust me." Then, grabbing her hand and kissing it lightly, the rogue bounded off.
Shaking her head in bemusement, certain that Daveth had to be the biggest character she had ever met outside of Denerim, she turned about and headed up the ramp. To her left she spied elves hurrying to get a table set up along one end of the hall. To her right, was another ramp, from which emanated the sound of an angry male voice. Intrigued, she turned and headed up the ramp.
Standing several yards ahead of her stood two men: one a mage dressed in a robe with a staff slung across his back. He was the angry one. And the other, a handsome young man with reddish blond hair and an open, friendly smile, dressed in splintmail carrying a sword and shield on his back, was the target of the mage's ire. As she neared, she could hear quite clearly as the 'argument' continued.
"Haven't the Grey Wardens asked enough of the Circle?" the mage demanded, his posture with crossed arms and too straight back indicating an extremely aggressive stance.
"I apologize, Ser Mage, but the Revered Mother asked me to present you with this message," the young man, completely unperturbed, maintained a relaxed stance, clear amusement showing in his amber eyes. He spotted Adela and shot her a quick, good natured wink before turning his attention fully back to the irate mage before him.
"I care little for what that woman wants. Have you nothing better to do than to harass me?" he demanded.
The man - apparently a Grey Warden - responded, his warm, educated voice taking on a slightly snide tone, "Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message." He crossed his arms, obviously getting tired of this exchange.
"Bah!" the mage scoffed, "Get out of my way, fool!" he shoved passed, nearly knocking Adela from her feet. The younger man shot a nasty look over at the mage while reaching over to take hold of Adela's arm, steadying her. "You could be more polite!" he shouted at the retreating back of the mage, "Or at least apologize!". The man either did not hear him or choose to ignore him as he continued on his way.
Releasing Adela's arm, the young man turned fully to the girl, "You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it pulls people together."
He said it so deadpanned Adela just stared for a moment and then said, "I beg your pardon?"
But he just chuckled. "Oh, you know! It's all one big party, and the darkspawn are invited. We could hold hands and sing campfire songs," he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "One big happy family!"
Giggling, shaking her head, Adela replied, "You are one very strange human. You are aware of that, correct?" she teased.
If he was offended, it did not show. Not with his smile widening. "You know, you're not the first woman to tell me that." He then took a step back and really looked at the elf before him. Maker, he thought, feeling a bit of tightness in his throat, she's soooo….
"…Adela," she was saying, holding out one tiny hand toward him. The young man merely stared at the proffered hand. Adela sighed, reaching out and tapping him on the chest. "Hello?" she looked up, her bluest of blue eyes gazing up into his amber. He has nice eyes, she thought. "I said my name is Adela, I'm the recruit that recently arrived with Duncan."
"Oh! What? Oh yes, sorry," the man blushed as he focused on the blue (wow! They are really blue) eyes. "Yes, sorry. Ahmm…my name is Alistair," he managed to get out. "I'm the junior Grey Warden and it will be my duty to escort you about and settle you into being a Grey Warden."
"Greetings, Alistair. Duncan has told me some about you," she smiled. She has such a pretty smile. "I'm very pleased to finally meet you."
"Oh, what? Duncan's mentioned me?" he blushed as the elven girl nodded. "I hope he didn't say anything too bad." How come Duncan didn't mention in his missive that she was pretty?
Her laughter was like a tiny bell chiming, and Alistair found he liked the sound of it greatly. The new recruit is a pretty - no beautiful - girl, he thought, with a nice smile and pretty laugh.
"Oh, don't worry, Alistair. Duncan said only the best about everyone."
Oh. "Well, I'm glad to hear that." He looked thoughtful. "You know, it's just occurred to me that there have hardly been any women in the Grey Wardens." He frowned. "I wonder why that is." he mused.
The right brow going up, a smirk on her face, Adela queried playfully, "Oh? And you want more women in the Wardens, do you?"
Alistair smirked right back at her, "Now would that be so bad? Not that I'm some drooling lecher or something," he smiled as both of her brows rose, "Please don't look at me like that!"
"Well, Alistair, the not-drooling-lecher," Adela's smile widened. She felt completely comfortable with Alistair and was a bit amazed at herself for flirting - flirting - with him. "Might I ask what that argument was about?" she really was curious.
"Oh, that…" He glanced quickly behind him, making certain the uppity mage was long gone. "Well, I was asked by the Revered Mother to deliver a message, and Duncan said we're all supposed to get along, so I did." he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Trouble is…" his eyes met hers honestly, flinching just a bit at their intensity, "I used to be a Templar, and that tends to cause some…friction between me and the mages."
Adela was stunned. This jovial, friendly man was a mage-hunter? "Well, I can certainly see how that could cause some…awkwardness."
The young Warden nodded, appreciating her words, "Yes, well. I get the feeling that the Revered Mother simply had me deliver the message as an insult to the mage, and did he ever pick up on that." He shook his head ruefully. "I probably should have refused to deliver it…"
"But Duncan's orders are sometimes hard to disobey," Adela offered, fully understanding.
"Hey, yeah. I bet you know, having traveled with him for the past few weeks."
The elf nodded. "He is a wonderful traveling companion, though. Good sense of humor." she was grinning. "Even if he is a bit tight lipped about some things."
"He's a good man," Alistair replied, his voice heavy with reverence for the man. At Adela's questioning look, he clarified, "He saved me. I had been sent to the Chantry as a young boy and had resigned myself to the fact that I would probably die in the Chantry's service. Duncan saw I was…unhappy, tested me, and recruited me."
She nodded. So, Duncan has a history of saving people. Smiling, she replied, "He's a good man. He saved me, too."
"Seems to be a habit with our Warden Commander," Alistair laughed. "Come on, I'll show you around, and you can ask any question you want."
They moved away, Adela digging into her backpack, pulling out a paper wrapped parcel. "Here," she thrust it into Alistair's large hands. The young man looked down at the package she gave him, and up to her smiling face. "I understand that you have an unholy love of cheese." She waved to indicate the package, and then skipped away a few steps. Alistair unwrapped the package, revealing some crumbly goat cheese. Okay, he thought picking off a piece and popping it into his mouth, now I am officially in love. And followed after the elf.
DA:O
Their first stop - the mess tent. Alistair claimed to be starved and Adela had to admit she was hungry as well. She was amazed and a little appalled at the amount of food Alistair piled on his plate. She contented herself with a roll, cheese and some dried meat. Grabbing a cup of water, she sat down beside her guide, watching in almost morbid fascination as he shoveled the food into his mouth. Taking small bites of her food, sipping at her water, she almost choked with laughter as Alistair not only finished his meal before she did but got up for a second helping. Must be a human warrior's appetite, she figured, covering her mouth with a delicate hand when Alistair sat back down. She glanced back over at him. He is handsome, she noted. But approachable handsome. She experienced a slight pang when her thought of Nelaros, but shook that away. She had a new life to adjust to and she had already mourned him. As she and Alistair sat beside each other, eating in relative silence (apparently his devotion to his meals did not include small talk) she was startled to realize that his features seemed familiar. However, she was certain she had never had occasion to meet any Templar before, and she was sure she would remember one like Alistair. Shrugging, she concentrated on her meal. When Alistair rose for a third helping, the elf could not help it and erupted into a fit of laughter. Alistair merely raised one red-gold brow at her, grinning away like he knew some great secret he wasn't going to share, and shoveled more food into his mouth.
The pair spent the rest of the day together, with Alistair showing her around the camp and answering any non-specific Warden and non-warden questions. He, too, avoided answering anything with regards to the joining, much to Adela's growing frustration. As they briefly passed by Daveth, the young rogue merely waggled his eyebrows at Alistair, gesturing to the lovely elf walking beside him, and then walked away. Alistair glared at the man's back before turning his attention back to Adela. During their tour, they met the third recruit, a Ser Jory, a human knight who took great pains to inform her that he was originally from Redcliffe and was currently serving in Highever. This was obviously the knight Daveth had complained about earlier. Adela could understand the rogue's frustration. While not a "bad" man, he obviously had his prejudices, not just against elves, but women as well. Maybe 'prejudices' isn't the right word, she thought, revising her opinion to one that he was merely ignorant.
Taking their leave, they walked to the quartermaster's stall. As it had been a few hours since her prior visit Adela decided to check on the status of her armor. The man was almost glowing with pride in having completed the armor, and in awe of the workmanship of the gear itself. He had given her the spare pieces, asking if he could keep one. "The workmanship is truly amazing and unique," he quipped, gazing almost lovingly at the bits of leather he held out. "If we could create other suits like this…" Seeing no harm, Adela allowed him to keep one piece, wondering if he'd be able to learn the secrets of Dalish leather working. With the final words of "If it doesn't fit correctly come back" the pair went off to put Adela's belongings in her tent, which was located at the camp set up for the Warden recruits. Alistair's tent had been set up as it was his responsibility to look after the recruits until the joining could take place. Daveth and Jory were no where to be found, but Duncan stood, gazing into the bon fire roaring in the center of the recruit camp.
"Ah, I see you've found Alistair," Duncan remarked as the pair entered the encampment. Adela nodded as she placed her belongings in her tent, and Alistair replied, "And she gave me cheese." Duncan chuckled at that, but then his face took on a slightly stern look as he turned his full attention to his junior Warden. "Are you quite finished riling the mages, Alistair?" Oh.
"What can I say?" Alistair quipped, "The way the Revered Mother wields guilt she should join the army."
"Oh? And she told you to sass the mage, did she?" Duncan scolded. Glad she wasn't on the receiving end of the scolding, Adela sat down on a nearby log, picking at the fire with a stick as the two talked. "We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We must all try and get along."
Hanging his head rather like a beaten puppy, Alistair mumbled, "You're right, Duncan. I…apologize."
Watching the young man, Duncan nodded. "Just, try and restrain your…sense of humor, Alistair," the man encouraged. "Not everyone is as understanding as I am or," he indicated Adela, "the little lady here."
Alistair perked up, and glanced at his mentor at Adela's name. A sense of dread briefly shot through Alistair's stomach as he watched the girl play with the fire and he was aware of Duncan's eyes on him. Shaking his head, he cleared the unpleasant thoughts away. It wouldn't accomplish anything to get worked up about the inevitable anyway.
After speaking briefly with Alistair, Duncan said farewell and went off to go and speak with the other Wardens, who were camped on the other side of the ruins. Alistair went to his tent to gather some tools and then, unsheathing his sword and removing his shield, sat beside Adela, and began sharpening his sword.
"Any more questions?" he asked as he stroked the whetstone along the sword. Adela shook her head, "No, not really." She looked over at the young man. "I've a friend who's fascination of the Wardens near rivals yours of cheese," she teased. Alistair grinned back. He really hoped she survived the joining. Not only because she was pretty, but she was nice and had a sense of humor. Plus, she was young. He glanced over at her. Too young, he thought, guessing her younger than twenty, a few years younger than himself. But, he reminded himself, it was hard to tell with elves - they seemed to be eternally young. He wondered what her story was, but was aware that he really wasn't technically allowed to ask. A Warden's prior life ceases to be once they become a Warden. Well…he thought, she's not a Warden yet. As he opened his mouth to ask just that, a messenger arrived in their camp.
"Lady Adela?" he asked of the girl. Adela's brows rose, a small grin on her face. "Lady? No. Adela? Yes." The messenger looked a bit confused. Adela glanced at Alistair, who was very busily sharpening his sword (will there be any steel left?) and replied, "Yes. How can I help you?"
The messenger, a young elven man she had seen running messages all day, replied, "The king wishes to remind you of your dinner engagement with him."
Now Alistair's head shot up. She knows the king? He looked over at her as she rolled her eyes and rose. How well did she know him?
"Thank you, Pick, is it?" the elven boy nodded, "Alright, I guess we won't keep his majesty waiting." She turned to Alistair, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I had forgotten I had promised Cailan I'd have dinner with him. Sorry to leave you on your own."
Alistair merely shrugged his shoulders, continuing with his work. With a small, confused frown, Adela followed Pick to Cailan's encampment. Once she was beyond the recruit circle, Alistair looked up to watch her as she walked away, a slightly jealous feeling rising in the pit of his stomach. She knows the king….and he went back to work, trying not to think of pretty smiles and musical laughs, or delicate elven ears…
DA:O
Cailan, attired more familiarly in breeches and hose, greeted her warmly at the entrance of his tent. With a word to his guard he was not to be disturbed unless urgent, he led Adela to the center table, which had been cleared of parchments and maps and was now covered with food.
"What? Did you bring Isabelle with you?" the elf asked as she sat, laughing, gesturing to the table. "And, how many people did you expect?"
Shaking his head, he laughed, "I was hungry," he joked as he spooned food onto his plate. Adela did likewise, and sat back down. She noticed an almost wistful look cross her friend's face. "You miss her, don't you?" she asked as she put a forkful of potatoes in her mouth. Cailan looked over at her, his misery all but laid bare. "I do." he sighed, taking a forkful himself and began to eat. He looked over at her. "There are days, since I've been away, that I cannot help but feel like I have not let her know just how much I love her." He frowned. "How special she is to me." He sighed. "And without our having borne an heir yet, there has been some squabbling amongst the other nobles. My uncle especially has been making noises for me to set Anora aside for a more 'fertile' bride." Adela stared at the king, an expression of utter confoundedness there. Set Anora aside? How could anyone expect him to do that? "I know he is been making inquiries of the Empress Celene." His frown deepened. "Loghain has even accosted me with this, reminding me of my obligation to his daughter. As if I would ever forget that." He looked over. "I love Anora. And, if something happened to me here," he looked over at his friend, who had stopped eating to give him her full attention. "Do you think she would know?" He frowned at his plate. Adela stood and walked over to Cailan's side. Placing a warm hand on his shoulder, she gave him a gentle shake. He looked up. "I am positive Anora knows exactly how you feel about her," she assured him. "How do you know?" he asked. Adela shrugged, walking back to her seat, and starting to eat her food. "You forget, I'm her best friend. We best friends share everything." He could not help but notice the little wicked twinkle in her eye. He groaned, dropping his head down. "Great! Just great! I suppose I am no longer some mysterious marvel of king to you, am I?" Adela laughed. "You never were, Cailan!" and began to eat with gusto. Smirking, looking down at her plate, she said, "No, I can tell. This is not Isabelle's cooking."
With a laugh, the somber mood broken, Cailan began to eat as well.
After their meal, they stepped away from the table, Adela retaking the 'comfy' chair, and Cailan choosing to stand. He did not want to start this conversation, that much was evident. So, Adela decided to take the initiative. "I spoke with Loghain," She started. Cailan turned his attention fully to her, waiting. "I am…unsure as well." she concluded lamely.
Sputtering out a sigh, Cailan sat down on one of the other chairs. "Nothing at all?" he asked, hopefully, yet dreading.
Frowning, Adela said, "There was a slight change in his…countenance, while we spoke. An almost hazing of his eyes, his expression going blank. But, it was over so quickly I almost question what I saw." She looked into Cailan's eyes. "And, it's not an unfamiliar look. I've seen it in my father's eyes when he's overworked or tired, or worried about something." Slender shoulders shrugged. "And Loghain is about my father's age; and there is this Blight business, and," she indicated to Cailan, "what you just told me about the nobles' griping about you and Anora not having produced an heir yet. Don't you think that all that would cause him to be over tired, over worked, concerned?"
Nodding, biting his lip, Cailan nodded. "That is exactly what Anora and I thought," he confirmed. Slapping his hands to his knees, huffing out a sigh, he rose, extending his hand to Adela. The elf took it and rose from the chair. "Well, it seems we are back at square one," he said, still holding her hand. "It is probably nothing. So," he kissed her hand, "we will not worry about it any longer. Not until we have real reason to do so." He pulled her toward the exit. "You, my dear, need to get some rest."
As they neared the exit, they could hear a protest from Cailan's guards. Glancing at each other, they moved to investigate when a familiar form emerged from the flap. Loghain stepped fully into the tent, scowling at the sight of Adela's hand in Cailan's. A black brow rose and he shot Cailan with a questioning look.
"Oh, do not give me that look, Loghain," Cailan scolded with barely concealed irritation, "it is Adela."
Loghain's frown intensified. He reached over and pulled Adela from Cailan's grasp, pulling her to the exit. "Precisely why you should be concerned," the Teryn shot back, his grip tightening slightly. The king and elf each exchanged concerned looks. Now this was behavior unheard of from Loghain. Trying to diffuse the situation, Adela calmly extracted her hand from Loghain's grasp, and stood at the entrance.
"Calm yourself, Loghain," she said quietly, "we merely passed the time with dinner. I needed to head back to camp anyway. I understand there's a test I must pass and I believe it's to commence tomorrow." Both men now turned concerned eyes her way. She forced a smile. It was nice that they cared so much, but when would they stop seeing me as a child? She curtsied to Cailan. "As always, Cailan, it was a pleasure." She then turned an impish grin to Loghain, "And nice to see you as well, Teryn." With those words, she left the tent, tossed the king's guard a smile, walked back to the recruit camp.
She found Alistair still sitting (in almost the same spot) in front of the fire where she had left him just a couple of hours prior. Daveth and Jory were now in camp, setting up their tents and settling down for a bit of drink and talk, which consisted mostly of Daveth teasing poor Jory about missing his wife. Alistair raised his eyes to her, and a slight flush crept up his cheeks as he broke from the gaze. Confused by that reaction, Adela bid the men good night, and crept into her tent. After changing into her nightshift, Adela crawled into her sleeping bag. The male voices outside of her tent would rise and fall, either with mirth or irritation. Sounds similar to the Alienage, she mused. Drawing comfort on these similarities, the elven girl closed her eyes and fell quickly into an easy sleep.