In her childhood bedroom Ten washed, still smelling like she was scared. She carefully wiped her face off with freezing water and then, when that didn't take care of it, antiseptic, likewise ineffective, and finally oil, which did the trick of dissolving whatever nefarious substance Erlina had gotten on her. As she had finally gotten the last of the pigment off of her eyes and mouth, she heard something she had never heard before - her father absolutely dying of laughter. Not the sensible chuckle he occasionally gave when someone said something particularly clever, but the laugh of a man who had just been told the greatest joke of all time. Has he been drinking? Then a second laugh joined the first, similar, but not identical, and she realized her uncle must be out there as well.

I suppose it's a day for crazy old men, isn't it.

She got the rest of the pins out of her hair, and brushed it, not particularly pleased with what Erlina's efforts earlier in the day had done. Whatever she had put in there had half worn off, so the roots were still straight, but the ends starting to sort of spring back to life. Annoyed, she poured more water into the basin and scrubbed at her scalp with the combination of salt and soap that she kept for that purpose until she felt like most of whatever it was was gone. Then she combed it again, and braided it back - something she usually did not do, but she didn't feel like waiting for it to dry before going back out there. It took three or four tries to get right, but she eventually did, and fastened the two braids to the top of her head with the discarded pins so that the ends would not freeze and break off. Who knows, maybe I'll need to pick another lock before the day's out.

When she made it back out into the kitchen, intending to catch her cousins at Shianni's flat, she saw her father and uncle at the table in front of a bottle of brandy. They looked at her, looked at each other, and then both started laughing again.

"Maker's breath, dad, how much have you had?" she asked.

"Not nearly enough, my girl," Cyrion said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"What could possibly be so funny?" Ten asked, "I don't have a dubious stain on this dress, do I?

"You're fine, dear niece," Cedrin said.

"So what has you howling like a couple of madmen?"

"Can't… tell you," Cedrin said, his voice squeaking out as he tried to stop another cascade of guffaws.

"Go on, enjoy yourself," Cyrion said, wiping his eyes, "You've… truly changed the fate of nations, apparently." He poured himself another glass, though he kept sort of half laughing as he went to pour it and wound up spilling a bit on the table.

"Why is that so funny?" asked Ten.

"It's not," Cedrin said, "Don't worry about it, Ten, your old man's had a bit of a shock is all."

"I changed out of the dress, Dad," Ten sighed.

"And you look like a… " Cyrion shook his head, trying to stop the spasms which kept threatening to send him back over the edge, "A proper elfin maiden. Thank you for humoring your old dad, my girl."

Cedrin chuckled, followed by his kid brother, and as Ten fastened her cloak about her, shaking her head, she wondered if the two men had finally cracked after a lifetime of pressure as they both started screaming with laughter again. She bustled through the streets, where, deciding they would certainly join the party if a little bit late, the elves of Denerim had lit a bonfire in the large communal firepit in the village square. She accepted a small glass of moonshine from Nath Lin, who had thrown a cloak over what looked like pajamas, as she passed. Her cousins were, along with several others, including the former Teyrn of Gwaren's valet, his arm tight around the shoulders of his wife Yereni, standing around Alistair, who was looking quite out of place and clearly an object of fascination.

"So, how many of you are there anyway?" asked Shianni, the liquor making her a little bit rude.

"Honestly it's anybody's guess at this point," Alistair said, shaking his head, "I didn't even know about the ones who grew up here until Ten told me."

"Probably about to be a lot less," Morran, who was always a little bit rude, both drunk and sober, observed, "Why're you still alive?"

"Because your cousin's a madwoman," said Alistair.

"She is certainly that," Soris agreed, not requiring further explanation.

"So she's not… normal for here?" said Alistair.

"No. She's actually crazy. Always has been," Morran said, "Got it from her mother."

Drystan, who'd been hanging back, approached the small group, "You must know important people. Do you know anyone who needs a valet? Looks like my erstwhile employer is no longer in need of my services."

"Oh… that was you. Do you make a habit of poisoning your masters?" asked Alistair.

"Only the ones who try to sell my wife into slavery," said Drystan.

"Fair enough, I'll see what… come to think of it, how do you feel about Redcliffe?"

"Where's that?" asked Drystan.

"Out towards the east, on Lake Calenhad?"

"Absolutely not," said Yereni, "I will not live in the provinces. We can get by on my pay for now."

"They do quite like fishing out there," Ten pointed out.

"Sure. But... ew," Yereni grimaced, "Come on, I've left the girls alone in the flat too long, they'll probably have tried lighting something on fire by now."

Bit by bit, the other elves who lived and worked outside of the walls of the Alienage were beginning to trickle in now, no doubt word had gotten out to them over the past couple of hours that the lockdown was over, and every so often a cry went up as a new one arrived, searching the crowds in the streets for spouses and children, parents and siblings. Ten couldn't keep the grin off her face, watching Avrenis Lin, who despite constantly complaining of the aches and pains of middle age was spry enough to all but launch herself into her husband's arms as their kids crowded around her. Even Gwylan Eilvaris, likely after putting his master to bed, arrived, scanning the crowds, and finally finding some family or another. Somewhere, a fiddler started playing, accompanied by drums, as the elves of Denerim, much like the rest of the party, drifted into a merrier mood than they had certainly woken up in.

The crowd had risen to a dull roar as enough liquor was passed around to get them all in a dancing mood, and so when someone arrived that nobody expected, the hush that fell over them all was all the more dramatic. A hundred pairs of eyes turned to where a human woman Ten did not recognize walked slowly towards the crowd around the fire. She was young but not that young, maybe in her late twenties, dressed like a middle class working woman, her black hair up but not covered. She was walking slowly not only because the streets were icy, but because she was heavily pregnant, so much so that it was quite obvious, even under her cloak. Ten did not recognize her, but suddenly had a very good idea of who she was.

Soris had seen her too. He drained his cup quickly and made to leave before she saw him.

"Nope," Ten announced, grabbing his collar as he turned, yanking him back, "You made that mess."

"Not in front of all these people," Soris said, his voice low.

"The time for keeping this a secret is over," she said.

"My dad's right there," Soris hissed through gritted teeth gesturing at the door to Cyrion's flat, where both Cyrion and Cedrin had decided that perhaps, just this once, it was worth it to join the rest of the neighborhood.

"So's mine," Ten said, "You're the one who decided to lay down with someone else's wife."

"Soris, you what?!" Shianni exclaimed, turning to him.

Soris's features had gone scarlet as the rest of the elves standing around them turned their eyes, wide with shock, to him.

"What's going on?" asked Alistair, who was, as he often was, completely befuddled by the entire situation.

"I'm going to give you ten minutes to put two and two together," Ten said.

"Maker's breath, Soris, that's… that's Rasphander's wife," Shianni said. She was, evidently, trying to whisper, but mostly failed at that, "So you mean when you showed up with all that intelligence, you got it because you… and I thought Ten was the crazy one."

"Go on," Ten said, loosing her cousin and clapping him on the back, "I'll get you some cigars. The good kind from Antiva." She put her mouth to his ear and murmured, "No cousin of mine is going to be a man who abandons his kid. I will put you in a ditch myself."

Soris looked at the ground and nodded. He then produced a flask from somewhere in his waistcoat, filled his glass again, and drank it down. Sufficiently heartened, he took a breath and strode through the crowd to face the mess he'd made. From across the square, Ten watched Cedrin's face as his youngest son embraced this strange woman. Cedrin's expression went from confusion to shock to grim realization. She held her breath, hoping that the reaction would not be violent.

It was, strangely, Cyrion who broke the tense silence, looking at his brother, pointing at him, and collapsing in another fit of laughter. Cedrin put his head in one hand, shook it, but the laughter was contagious, and he started laughing too, louder than they had when Ten had walked through the kitchen earlier. Satisfied that there was not about to be a public beating, the rest of the crowd relaxed and turned back to the business of making merry. This, of course, was not the first time such a thing had happened and it would not be the last. And, as always among the elves of town, you see something strange, you gawk for a moment, then you go on about your business. And the business of the day was carousing.

"Wait, so…" Alistair said, "Your cousin's the father of that woman's child? I heard what you said in his ear."

"Right under my nose, too," Ten sighed.

"And mine," Shianni said, emphasizing that she was in no way complicit in this turn of events.

"Do you disapprove, Ten?" asked Alistair, confused again, "But you never seemed to have a problem with mixing. Ioan's one of your best friends. And married to a dwarf."

"In principle? No, of course not," sighed Ten, "Can hardly expect people not to take comfort wherever they can find it in this world. That said, you heard how Ioan grew up. I don't envy the life he's led. The way his family treated him. Soris has gone and made a child that's going to have a hard life no matter what. The whole world's going to come down on him."

"And if the good folk of Denerim have a mind to lynch the man," sighed Morran, who did not find this as amusing as his father did, "It's going to be on his family to raise the poor bastard. So congratulations, Ten, you're going to be someone's ma because I'm certainly not doing it."

"See?" Ten said, "Hostile for no reason. And I wouldn't let you, Morran. After all, you're out here getting shitcanned while you've a baby at home."

"My kid's fine," Morran said, "Likes his ma better at this age, anyway."

It is strange that he's out here. Always been such a hermit. He and Aislinda are probably fighting. They never truly liked each other, after all.

"Surely you can protect your cousin," Alistair said, trying to alleviate some of the tension.

"I can," said Ten, looking pointedly at Morran, "Realistically everyone knows who Soris is and the consequences for fucking with him. But… they'll have to live here, and that woman has two older, full human kids, it's going to make life hard for them too."

"Well it's too late now," Shianni pointed out, ever practical, "And honestly, if there's ever going to be change, someone's got to go and make everyone uncomfortable at first. Eventually if it becomes common enough, nobody will bat an eye."

"And then what happens to the elves?" Morran cut in, "We all just, what? Get bred out of existence? Is the price of tolerance the smaller group just… disappearing? After a few generations, it'll just be humans, everywhere, all over Thedas, just some of them have slightly pointy ears and don't even know where they came from."

"Well you had better get cracking then. You only have one kid," Ten pointed out, "Your parents have fifteen grandkids, all fullblood. Number sixteen being mixed isn't going to change that. And if they stop coming in to cull the herd every few years, which I intend to make sure never happens again, I don't think we're in danger of dying out."

"Yeah, well, we all know how you feel about the subject," Morran said, spitefully.

"Fuck off, Morran," Shianni said in irritation. She was fiddling with her earrings absently. Ten was reminded of what she had learned about Shianni's father, and realized the girl did know. She must have always known, "Ten tried to follow the rules, look where it got her."

"I didn't realize carrying on with some halfbreed was in the rules," Morran said, his features darkening, "And now you're running around town with some sh- human like you're the best of friends." He turned to Alistair, "No offense, bud, I know you're one of the good ones and all, but you have to know this is strange."

"I'm not offended, but I really don't think Ten deserves to be spoken to like that," Alistair said, crossing his arms.

"No, you should be offended," Ten said, "Morran, that was out of line. I don't want to fight with you, but you're going to have to make your peace with this. Things are going to change and we've got to take the bad with the good."

"I will make my peace with it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," Morran said.

"Fine," Ten said, "I won't presume to tell you how to feel, but I don't have to like that either." The two of them glared at each other.

"Come on, I've got a stash of the good stuff," Shianni said, knowing the one common denominator that even would make even the most recalcitrant among them decide everyone was their best friend, "I'm not breaking it out here because I don't want to share with the whole neighborhood."

Morran, evidently chagrined by his earlier behavior, followed the other three through the narrow streets to Shianni and Ten's flat, where all four were greeted by a chorus of outraged meows.

"Shianni, did you somehow find even more cats?" asked Ten.

"It's cold out!" Shianni protested, scooping up a newcomer, this one a fullcheeked black tom with a white patch on his chest. She seized the cat by the back of the neck and faced it towards Ten, "And who could say no to this face?"

"Me!" Ten exclaimed, "There were already a lot of cats, Shianni! Like, a whole lot of cats!"

"Well, you barely live here anymore," Shianni countered, putting the cat back down, where he went to rub against Morran's legs.

"Wait, Ten, this is where you lived?" Alistair said, pausing in the foyer, taking in the roughhewn floorboards, the threadbare curtains, the hole that someone - probably Ten herself - had put in a wall and that was patched with a smear of clay.

"Since I was seventeen or so," Ten sighed, "The whole wealthy benefactor thing was something I acquired later in life. And, for the records, the cats my fair cousin acquired after I got the boot from the city."

"So you're really not all that good at the criminal thing," Alistair said, casting about the room. Water stains in the plaster on one wall. Jugs formerly containing moonshine repurposed to replace the cracked cistern, "Seems to me the amount of money you could extort from the aristocracy alone would have…"

"I wasn't about to buy curtains while there's kids in the quarter whose parents can't afford firewood," Ten corrected him sharply.

"The whole not taking money from half of her 'customers' didn't help either," said Shianni. She stood on a stool to reach the top shelf in the highest cabinet, retrieving a bottle and blowing the dust off of it.

"Ever the martyr, our Teneira," Morran said, only a little sarcastically.

"Well there's plenty of firewood money now. No sense in dwelling on the past," Shianni said, clambering back down, "Lean years are over. Right, Ten?"

"Yes they are," said Ten, "And I will drink to that."

The 'good stuff,' according to Shianni, was middle of the road Orzammar rye, though considering that the place had been locked down and the only thing brewed within the Alienage's walls was Faean's eyewatering moonshine distilled from corn too rough for elfin consumption, it would pass.

"Where'd you get that bottle?" asked Ten.

"Fell off the back of a wagon," Shianni said, pouring out glasses, "To regime change!"

"I'll drink to that too," Ten said, draining her glass, and slumping down in a chair at the table, all of a sudden feeling very, very tired.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shianni packing her pipe and lighting it up. She thought about protesting, that it would stink up the place, but didn't have the energy to say anything. After all, Shianni was right. She barely lived there anymore. That is, until the pipe had made it to her - even Alistair evidently taking one no doubt in an effort to prove he was not like the other pompous shem Ten's cousins had taken him for - when Ten, taking a drag, realized what was in that pipe, and perked up right away.

Andraste's left tit, Alistair's going to hallucinate something terrifying and I'm going to spend all night talking him down…. Dammit, Shianni, does everything really have to have a prank attached?

"Shianni, what the fuck?" she said, "This is for cops."

"Oh, come on, Ten," said Shianni, "Don't tell me the Grey Wardens have made you boring. Anyway, if he's not an uptight son of a bitch, he'll think it's funny, and if he is, then good riddance."

"Anyway, it's too late," Morran said, his eyes sparkling, watching Alistair.

Alistair looked around the table, and over at Ten, "What are you talking about?"

Ten sighed in exasperation, strode to the fireplace, and dumped the rest of it out.

"What about now?" asked Morran.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" Alistair demanded, "Ten, I know they're messing with me. I just cannot figure out how."

"Yeah they're messing with you," Ten confirmed, and turned to Shianni, "This is just mean."

"Fine," Shianni sighed, "Doesn't seem to be working anyway."

"Wait, you just feel… normal?" asked Ten, "No… seeing things you oughtn't?"

"Of course I feel normal, or as close to it as one could, given the day I've had," Alistair said, "Smells a little weird I guess."

"You're not seeing anything?" Shianni asked, cocking her head to the side.

"I see three elves being very strange and cryptic for reasons I do not understand," Alistair said, crossing his arms, "But I suppose you're related to this one so I shouldn't be that surprised. Strange and cryptic is her middle name."

"So… just us?" Morran asked, "No wolf, no halla, no goat… are any of us twelve feet tall right now?"

"Ten, what are they talking about?"

"Did you inhale?" she asked. She took him by one shoulder and snapped her fingers in his face a couple of times. He flinched, and gave her a shove to make her stop, but didn't lose his shit like she had anticipated. She thought about all the times she'd blown a lungful of this particular blend in a guardsman's face. That alone was usually enough to get them going, seeing all their worst fears manifest before them.

"Ten, what the hell?" Alistair said impatiently.

"Looks like someone's ma has some explaining to do…" Morran said in a wicked singsong. The liquor had gotten to his voice, and he was certainly more jovial than he had been when they entered, "Ten, where do you find them all?"

"Fuck off, Morran," said Ten, "You don't know shit about shit." Morran's right though. Never met one of them that didn't at least see the walls moving strangely. But… it doesn't work on Shianni, and it never worked on Ioan, and… well I never tried it on Villais did I. Was Eamon lying about who his mother was? It would explain a lot. A halfbreed bastard's no use, after all. Pin the baby on a disposable human, make sure she can't tell tales, pay off the daughter? But Goldanna was so pissed. I believe her when she said she saw it… then again that doesn't mean her mother wasn't raped. Just that she didn't have a baby. Or she did and the baby did die like she thought. Or… or…

"Neither does he, apparently," Morran said, shaking his head and draining his glass.

"I'm right here," Alistair said, "Would someone explain the joke?"

"I will," said Ten, "I promise. Just… not here." No idea how he would react to this. Shit. Last thing we need is an emotional breakdown at my kitchen table. She turned to Shianni and changed the subject before Alistair could attempt to cajole her into explaining, "Shianni, do you remember that boy I threw out your bedroom window when you were fourteen?"

"You're going to have to be more specific than that," Shianni said, who had started looking quite nervous and was now grateful for the reprieve, "You did that to several boys."

"You'd think you'd have stopped trying after the first and found an alley or a hayloft like the rest of us," Ten said.

"Or the sentry box," Morran quipped.

"Fuck off," Ten said again, this time with a chuckle. She poured out another round, "Fuck, can't remember his name. Light brown hair. Ears go straight back. Scar across his eyebrow."

"Oh shit," Shianni laughed, "Thenlil Luvarian. Yeah, I remember him."

"Good, because he remembers you," said Ten, "He works over at the Arl of Redcliffe's estate. Had the nerve to ask my permission to court you. I nearly threw him through another window."

"There aren't any windows in the stables," Alistair said.

"Figuratively."

"Really!" Shianni exclaimed, taking a sip of her whiskey, "News to me. Haven't seen him in a fair bit."

"Well, just as a warning, I gave it to him after the whole impulse to beat him bloody passed," said Ten, "If you're not interested you're going to have to say it yourself."

"That has not been exactly my top priority recently," Shianni said, "What with the whole… everything falling apart thing. And the whole world might end before the year's out thing. And the whole nearly being sold into slavery thing."

"That's what I said," Ten said, "But… just putting that out there. I don't know if I'm going to be around much longer to find you a proper match, after all."

"No, no," Shianni said, "I appreciate the heads-up. It probably wouldn't kill me to make some time for something that doesn't involve doom, gloom, death and destruction."

"Maybe evict a couple of cats first," Ten suggested.

"Wait a minute," Alistair said, pointing at Shianni, "You're Ten's cousin, right?"

"Right," said Shianni.

"But you're also Ten's cousin," he said, pointing at Morran.

"Right," said Morran.

"So why was it up to Ten to find her a match, and not you?"

"I'm not Shianni's cousin. We're not actually related. We've just known each other far too long," Morran said.

"But I thought all your marriages happen when someone else comes from out of town, how is it Ten grew up with cousins on different sides of your family?" he asked.

"When my dad came here to marry my ma, he brought his kid brother with him," said Morran, "Then he decided it would just be a grand idea to marry a criminally insane girl because he liked how she looked in leather."

"So it sounds like the rules aren't actually that hard and fast," Alistair said.

"They aren't," said Morran, and then gestured at Ten, "But the very existence of this lunatic is proof positive that they ought to be."

"Well the rules in the Imperium are pretty clear, surely you don't think our fathers should have adhered to those," Ten countered, "Now I am far too tired and getting far too drunk to talk about this shit. Someone tell me a joke."