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Blood Bond	By : Hikari86 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter List
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To Catch a Thief

The shadows of the Commons were the perfect places to hide, or at least they were for Sora. She placed herself in a corner as she watched her fellow dwarves go about their business, unaware of her presence. And that’s how she liked it as that was the way it had always been her whole life. Even if she was out in the open, most of the dwarves would take no notice of her, while the ones that did would treat her like the Duster she was; a lowlife, no good casteless dwarf, worse than the dirt caking the bottom of their boots.
It was something she was used to however, having been born casteless in Dust Town. An S-shaped tattoo had been placed just below her right eye when she was a baby, marking her as such. It was the mark of all casteless dwarves, and it was the law that they had to wear it upon their face for all to see.
Sora reached up and touched it but it wasn’t the tattoo she was feeling, but the scar that distorted the top portion. The scar went straight up, going across her cloudy hazel eye and through her eyebrow to her forehead. She had received it from her very first errand, given to her by Beraht, the resent leader of the Carta. Sora had been lucky the injury had only left a scar instead of taking away her eye or life. Though the sight from her right eye was blurry, it didn’t stop her from being one of the best scrappers in Dust Town.
Beraht, the very thought of him made Sora grind her teeth. Even though he was dead, and it was thanks to her for that, she still hated him for all he had done to her and her sister Rica. Beraht had not been related to them at all, but for some reason he saw something in Rica and took both of them under his wing, forcing Rica to become a noble hunter, and forcing Sora into serving him to do his biding. In a way, Beraht had saved them, cause up until then they were barely living, with Sora having to steal in order for them to eat. Rica at that point had been a street sweeper, the only one in their family to have a job since their mother was too drunk all the time to be of any use to anyone. Sora had wanted to get a job as well to help her sister, who had become the backbone of the family. Rica had taken care of her ever since she was a baby as well as their mother, taking whatever jobs she could and begging in order to provide. But no matter how hard she tried, Sora could never find a job she could hold down. Her only skills were that of stealth and cunning, which might have been one of the reasons why she had agreed to be Beraht’s lackey. She was finally able to help her sister out.
Yet with how much she hated him, Sora knew that if it wasn’t for Beraht, Rica would not be where she was now; living in luxury in the palace along with their mother and Rica’s son. Beraht had spent a lot of money on her; voice lessons, expensive clothing and jewelry, make-up, and other such things to make her more appealing to the nobles. He had done this seeing potential in Rica, and wanting her to produce a son from one of the noblemen so he could join her in the palace. Sora chuckled a little as she thought, knowing that what Beraht had sought came true, only he was dead and unable to reek the benefits.
It had happened right after his death too, Rica coming to Sora saying she was pregnant from the man she had been seeing. When she gave birth, it was to a boy, thus making him a noble and being given the right to live in the Diamond Quarter. Rica had named him Endrin, after his grandfather, as his father was none other than Prince Bhelen. Sora had been surprised when she found out, but had also been very pleased. She was happy for Rica, and wanted her to have a life she deserved. Rica had even said that Sora could come and live with her, as they were related, and she did not want her son growing up not knowing his aunt, but Sora wasn’t able to join her sister, not yet at least. No, Sora had things she needed to deal with first before she could do that.
A couple of drunken dwarves noisily stumbled by her, taking her out of her thoughts. They nearly fell over, almost tripping on her toes, but Sora was able to stick to the shadows, concealing herself very well within. They didn’t even notice when she reached into their pockets and pulled out what little money they had left.
Agility and dexterity was something rare found in dwarves as their bodies were not made for such things. They were thick and stocky, hardened and durable, made more for strength and endurance, to be able to take hard hits and still keep going, just like the stone they were born from. Sora was only able to do such things because she had been doing them all her life. Learning to hide when she was a little girl whenever Mother went into one of her fits, or when she was out in the Commons and had to stay clear of anyone who might spit on her.
Sora looked at the money in her hand; two silvers and three bits, not enough even worth stealing. She pocketed the money anyway. It might not have been much, but it was still something for later.
She scanned the Commons again, trying to figure out what she was going to do next. She wasn’t even sure what she needed to do, not with the situation she was in. A situation that Beraht had put her in right before she killed him. It frustrated her to no end, that even dead, Beraht still seemed to creep into her life.
It had started nearly a year ago, when she and her partner—at the time—Leske went to Beraht and his partner Jarvia for their next assignment. There was a Proving being held that day, and Beraht had placed a bet on a warrior named Everd, one hundred sovereigns Sora would soon learn later, and he wanted Sora and Leske to make sure he did win the Proving. Sora had found it funny that Beraht would bet on a warrior who would need their help to win, but that was just how Beraht was. He only bet on a sure thing, and he was probably more than sure that Everd would win if he could help it.
Agreeing to the assignment, Sora and Leske made their way to the Proving Grounds only to find their assignment was going to be more than they bargained for. Everd might have been a good warrior, but he was also a lover of ale. When the two found him, he was stone drunk, passed out on the floor of his room.
“What a fine time to get drunk,” Sora had said. “Are all these so called warriors this stupid?”
“Probably,” said Leske. “But we need to think of something quick, or else Beraht's going to have both our asses.”
“And my sisters. Great, if Everd doesn’t win the Proving then this is my last shot. Baraht’s going to go after Rica first, just to make me suffer.”
“Which is why Everd is going to win.”
“How? He’s too drunk to be able to do anything.” She kicked Everd’s head and the warrior never moved. “I’m surprised he’s still breathin'.”
“Because you’re going to be Everd.” Sora looked up to see Leske had walked over to the chest and pulled out Everd’s armor and handed it to her.
“Are you nuts?”
“No, here, I think it’ll fit, and he uses the same weapon types as you do, an axe and a dagger. Besides, you’re always going on about how you’re the best scrapper in Dust Town. Why don’t you prove that right now with these warrior castes?”
Sora took the armor and stared at it. “I don’t know. It’s a crime to impersonate a warrior, and for a casteless to be fighting in the Proving.”
“And you don’t think what we do on a day to day basis isn’t against the law? I’m sure they would arrest us for just standing in here. Just put the armor on and get out there. I know you’ll kick all their asses. I should know, I’ve been on the other side of that axe of yours.”
Sora didn’t like the idea, but she had no choice. If she didn’t succeed in her mission, then Rica would be the one to pay for it.
She had taken the armor, placed it on and took Everd’s weapons as well. The armor was bulky and heavy, not like the light leather Duster armor she was used to, but she soon got used to it as she made her way out to the Proving Grounds.
Just as Leske had predicted, Sora beat many of the warriors that came after her to a bloody pulp. She was loving it, fighting worthy adversaries, something rare for her to find in Dust Town and in the Carta. She was winning, and there was only one match left before Everd could claim victory and Baraht could claim his winnings.
But that’s when everything turned sour.
She didn’t know it before hand, nor did she know it till the final match, but the Proving was being held in honor of Prince Rylen, the second son to the king. He was being honored for being appointed the newest commander to Orzammar’s armies. A favorite amongst the commoners and as well with the Assembly. Rylen was known for his good sense of humor and with the kind way he treated all the castes, including the casteless which sometimes got him into trouble with his fellow nobles. He had entered into his own Proving, and would be Sora’s final opponent. When Leske had found this out, he pulled Sora to the side and begged her to surrender as fighting and beating the prince would be worse than losing.
“Are you crazy?” Sora had said to him. “I’m not backing out just because he’s the prince! None of the other warriors did, so why should I?”
“Look, Rylen wasn’t suppose to be in his own Proving,” said Leske. “So I’m sure when Baraht saw this he changed his bid to him, so beating him would not be a good idea.”
“No, that’s not Baraht’s style. Besides, he knows we’re here and we’re going to do the job he gave us, so I’m going out there and I’m going to win.” Sora had placed back on her helmet, muting any more protests Leske may have tried to say. She marched back out onto the grounds where she found Rylen waiting for her.
It was the first time she had seen him, or at least the first time she had seen him so up close and to not be a painting or statue. She had to admit he was good looking with dark blonde hair, tied in the back and a braided beard. His eyes were a deep brown and sparkled when he smiled at her.
“Atrast vala, Everd,” he said to her. “It is an honor to fight one so skilled such as yourself.”
Sora nodded, not having said anything throughout the whole Proving. Rylen nodded back and the Proving Master announced them, then gave the order to fight.
Rylen was different. Sora wasn’t exactly sure why he was, but he felt different from the others. He wielded a two-handed axe, long and heavy, which nearly brought Sora to the ground every time it hit her. She had fought such weapons before, but Rylen was better with it than others. She could barely hold him back, and even with everything she had, she already knew she wasn’t going to win. A quick sweep of her feet and she fell to the ground, losing the grip on her dagger and axe and finding the tip of his great axe in her face.
She had failed, unable to fulfill her mission. Baraht would have her head, but not first without taking Rica’s head in front of her.
She laid there on the gravel, staring up at the ceiling of the dome wondering what had just happened and wondering if things could get any worse. Rylen came into her field of vision and let down his hand to help her up. Unthinking she took it and he hoisted her to her feet.
“I’d have to say that was one of the best matches I’ve faced, Everd,” he said. “I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind-” But he stopped when a drunken yell rang through the dome.
Everyone looked over at the entrance to find a staggering Everd making his way forward, waving to the stunned crowd and falling over almost every step. Sora glanced behind him to see the backside of Leske and knew that if she got out of this then he would be dead once she got her hands on him.
“What is going on here?” shouted the Proving Master. “Who are you, ser?”
“That’s Everd!” cried one of the warriors Sora had fought earlier.
“He’s right,” said Rylen. “But if Everd is right there, then who are you?” He looked toward Sora and she stood fixed in her spot, unsure on what to do.
“Who are you? I demand you reveal yourself, now!” the Proving Master yelled from his balcony.
There was no use denying it, Sora had to reveal herself. She could try fighting her way out, but that would not work. Even though she had defeated most of the warriors there, there was no way she could fight them all at once. She had no choice.
Slowly she took off the helmet and gasps filled the dome followed by dead silence.
“A casteless,” the Proving Master hissed. “This… this is an outrage! Guards! Seize her immediately!”
Sora didn’t fight when several guards came and took her by the arms. She did look however toward Rylen who’s expression confused her. His mouth hung open, eyes wide and fixed on her, following even as she was being taken away. He stayed where he was with the same face and expression all the way until she was out of sight. It was the last thing she saw before the guards knocked her unconscious.
Rylen’s look was a surprise to her because it was something she didn’t expect. A look of disgust or anger would have been better, and something she would expect a noble to give to a casteless. But what was even more a surprise to her was when she awoke and found she was not in the city dungeon. Instead, she found herself in another cell, along with Leske and in a whole different situation.
Once awake and figuring out where she was, Sora found Jarvia to be outside her cell. She then told them of how they had taken both Sora and Leske from the city guard and brought them here where they could dispose of them properly for failing in their mission. It was something Sora knew was going to happen, and once Jarvia left, she and Leske escaped their cells and ran through the Carta hideout, killing and fighting before they finally reached Baraht in his room.
It was there that Sora killed him, furious when she had over heard him talking about Rica. He was planning on disposing of her and throwing her back to the streets. Sora had enjoyed killing Baraht, so much so that Leske had to pull her off him long after he was dead. Once she realized what she had done, they both ran out, finding themselves back in the Commons but also back in the custody of the Orzammar guard. Or at least Sora did. When she looked for Leske, he was no where to be found.
Sora wouldn’t learn till later, but she had just walked into a set up. The whole thing had been planned by both Leske and Jarvia to get rid of Baraht. She had just been a pawn and a scapegoat. It wouldn’t be until later when she would get her revenge on the both of them, killing them in the very same room she had killed Baraht.
The guards seized her, as they had been given anonymous instructions on where and when to find the escaped prisoner. She tried explaining to them what had happened, that she had been kidnapped, but none of the guards would listen to her, and they also didn’t care. They just threw her into another cell and there she waited for her execution that she knew was coming. Being casteless, she would not get a fair trial, they would just immediately hang her from her crimes.
She didn’t know how long she had been in the cell; hours, days, it all seemed to blur together after awhile. When they finally came for her she didn’t struggle, knowing it was no use. They blindfolded her, and dragged her across the stone for a long time, taking her up and down stairs and soon threw her on the ground and left her alone. When she took off the blindfold shock entered her system when she realized where they had brought her. Sora had found herself in a large room, decorated with expensive paintings and fabrics. A large bed at the very back, and half walls separated certain areas. She was even more shocked when she looked behind her to see Rylen at the door, smiling down at her.
“Hello,” he said calmly.
Sora stood up and readied herself to fight. “What’s going on?” she said. “Where am I? Are you the one who's going to kill me?”
“No,” Rylen said. “I’m actually the one that freed you.”
“Huh?” Sora stood up straight and stared at him dumbfounded. “You… set me free? Why?”
“Well, I was impressed by your performance at the Proving. And… I sort of thought you were pretty… beautiful.” Rylen shied his eyes away from her then quickly looked back to see her expression.
She was even more stunned as she stared at him. Never in her life had she ever been called pretty or even beautiful. She knew that she was plain. She knew that she was maybe even ugly. Rica was the beautiful one, that’s why Baraht had chosen her to be the noble hunter. Sora would never be able to attract the attention of a nobleman, and she especially thought it would never happen with her scar.
“Is this a joke?” she was finally able to say. “Are you getting back at me because I humiliated you at your own Proving?”
“No, no,” Rylen said trying to calm her down. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you, but it’s true. When you took off the helmet, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, really.”
Sora still couldn’t believe it. How could Rylen—a prince of all things—find her pretty? “So is that why you freed me?” she asked. “So I could become your courtesan? I’m not a noble hunter. I’m a fighter, a thug, thief. What could you possibly want with me?”
Rylen stared at her softly. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you deserved to be executed, is all.”
“Ha! That’s a laugh.”
“I don’t care that you’re casteless,” he said crossing his arms. “You showed your skills at the Proving. The crowd loved you and it wasn’t until they found that you were casteless did they turn on you. But, I do have to admit something. I knew you weren’t Everd.”
Sora had turned away from him, but then she quickly turned back. “What?”
“I’ve fought Everd before, and I also know he tends to get drunk before going into a Proving. Since you were fighting without seeming drunk and you also seemed to have a different fighting style than he did, I knew you weren’t him. I also noticed you used your main weapon in your left hand. Everd fights with his right.”
Sora huffed. “So then why didn’t you report me?”
“Because you were good and because I wanted to fight you myself. I probably should’ve, as you could have been impersonating him for all the wrong reasons, but I didn’t. That would probably have to do with me being more selfish and wondering who you were and wanting to see how far you would go. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you at the Proving, but things like this take a lot of talking and persuading.”
“Not to mention I was taken from your guards. I didn’t escape.”
“And I know that. When I found out you weren’t in the dungeon, I lead a full investigation to find out how you escaped. During the investigation we found out you hadn’t, and that a few guards, paid off, had taken you to the Carta. When you were apprehended again, I took what evidence we found and presented it to the Assembly. They at first didn’t want to let you go, but thanks to my charm, I finally had them place you in my custody.”
“Great, now I’m your slave,” Sora heaved.
“No, you’re not. You’re free to go whenever you want, but I suggest you stay here at least for tonight. Um, you can have the bed if you prefer, and I’ll take the couch out here. It’s no big deal or anything.”
Except that it was, or at least to Sora. She was baffled at his behavior; the way he was treating her, with kindness, how he had said she was pretty, and what he had done for her. He barely knew her, yet he had probably risked a lot to save her just because he was intrigued.
“I…” Sora found her mouth dry. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, I insist…”
“I said I’ll sleep on the couch!” she yelled.
Rylen nodded and walked past her. “If that’s what you wish.”
That night Sora laid on the couch, but she found she couldn’t sleep. Her mind wondered and she couldn’t take her mind off him. She found it strange how he could be so kind to such a lowlife as she was. She also couldn’t stop thinking about him in another sense. Rylen was quite handsome for a dwarf, and he had saved her from certain death. Sora knew that she needed to pay him back somehow.
In the middle of the night she went to him, creating one of the most memorable nights of her life, and realizing that things might not be so bad after all.
The next morning she ran into Rica, finding out that she had spent the night with Bhelen and that she was now living in the palace. Rica had been relieved to see her younger sister and also glad that she had been with Rylen. It was also then that she revealed her pregnancy and that Bhelen had insisted she begin living in the palace. Sora could live with her as well, and Sora would have if it hadn’t been for Bhelen’s treachery.
A bang behind her made Sora close her eyes and breathe out heavily.
What is he doing now?
She turned around to find Rylen sitting on his butt behind her. As a warrior he wasn’t very good at hiding and even less patient when it came to waiting.
“Rylen, could you please be a little more quiet,” she whispered.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just so bored and sore. Are we able to move yet? What’s going on in that head of yours anyway?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Thinking of what?”
“The same thing I’ve been thinking about ever since I saved you from the Deep Roads. Who would be best to be king, Bhelen or Harrowmont?”
“Well you already know my answer on that one,” he said edging closer to her. Sora kept her eyes on him, adjusting to the dark so she could see him clearly. He had changed since Bhelen had framed him for the death of their oldest brother Trian. In order to keep him hidden, Rylen had to cut his hair and shave his beard. Sora had also painted a false casteless tattoo under his right eye. He looked very different from before and they hoped it would be enough to keep him concealed from anyone who wanted him dead. He was suppose to be dead after all, getting banished to the Deep Roads where he was suppose to die from the darkspawn.
At first Rylen didn’t think changing him into a casteless dwarf would work, as even if he looked different, his eyes were the same. He knew if any of his former noblemen looked him in the eyes, then they would know who he was, and he wasn’t sure on who he could trust anymore. This made Sora laugh, as she told him that wouldn’t be a problem. No self-respecting nobleman would look a casteless in the eye.
“I know you want to see Harrowmont on the throne, but…” It was something that battled within Sora’s mind with each passing day. Rica and little Endrin were living good in the palace thanks to Bhelen. If he became king then that would continue and little Endrin might even have a chance for the throne later in his life. It was more than Sora could ever hope for, but Bhelen being king was bad for Rylen.
Rylen had told her the whole story, how Bhelen had come to him, saying that Trian might have him killed because the Assembly may be considering him to be the next king and not Trian. Rylen at first didn't believe it, not being able to think of his brother as a killer. If the Assembly had voted for Rylen over Trian than Rylen would have declined. He had no such dreams of becoming king. He preferred his commander role and would stick to that for the rest of his life if possible. Yet Bhelen had insisted, so Rylen went with it and when they all went into the Deep Roads to search a newly discovered Thaig, Rylen had found Trian and his men dead. Bhelen then showed up with their father and others, saying that Rylen had done this and even some of the men that had been with him confirmed it.
Harrowmont, however, had not believed it and did what he could to help Rylen out. Unfortunately all he could do was to have Rylen be sent in the Deep Roads instead of being executed in the city. Hearing about this, Sora had followed them into the Deep Roads, and once Rylen was locked in, helped to get him back out and into Dust Town.
Now they were here, waiting and trying to figure out what to do next. If Harrowmont became king, then Rylen could get back his title and his dignity, but Rica and little Endrin would be thrown back out on the streets. Sora was completely in the middle and unsure on what to do.
“You’re worried about Rica, aren’t you?” Rylen asked touching her shoulder.
“I can’t help it,” Sora said looking back out into the Commons. “She’s my sister and the one who took care of me almost my whole life. She deserves what she has. I can’t take that away from her, but I also can’t force you to live like this either.”
Rylen of course knew how she felt. Rice was everything to her and Sora didn’t care what happened to herself, as long as Rica was taken care of, she would suffer.
“Look, you know why Bhelen shouldn’t be king. There was a reason why our father never wanted him to be king. He killed Trian and I’m sure he poisoned Father as well. So Harrowmont has to be our priority. But as for Rica and little Endrin, don’t forget that he’s my nephew as well and I don’t plan on punishing him just because his father betrayed me. I will talk to Harrowmont and I know he’ll let Rica and little Endrin stay in the palace. Besides, if he does give me my noble caste back, then you’re coming to live with me in the Diamond Quarter, and Rica is your family after all.”
Sora looked back at him, hope gleaming in her eyes. “Really? You’d do that?”
“Of course I would. I love you, Sora. I’m not just going to throw your sister and our nephew on the streets. What kind of dwarf do you think I am?”
Sora smiled at him, happy to know that no matter what, Rica would be safe.
Looking back out into the Commons she then noticed something new amongst the bustle. There was an elf, female with bright red hair making her way through the crowd in somewhat of a rush. Next to her was a dog and another elf, male with tattoos on the left side of his face. Slightly more behind them was a giant and a human female. Sora knew the female elf in front to be a Grey Warden. She and Rylen had heard the messenger come through announcing their arrival. As she watched the elf, an idea was beginning to form in her head.
“Rylen, what would happen if a Grey Warden supported one of the candidates?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Grey Wardens don’t get into politics. They stay neutral. Besides, most of the time when a Grey Warden is here nothing like this is happening. Usually we get warned when the Grey Wardens are coming so we can quickly take care of things like this. Course, there has never been something like this before. But why? What are you planning now?”
Sora stood and fixed her gaze completely on the elf. She had stopped in the middle of the Commons, talking with her companions.
“Sora?”
“Just stay back, Rye, and let me do what I do best.” Slowly Sora walked out of the shadows and into the Commons.
***
“Ara! Please stop!”
Stopping in the middle of what Arawin could only call a street, Zevran finally caught up with her along with Leliana and Sten. “What?” she said coldly.
“As much as I love seeing you angry, especially when it’s not directed at me,” said Zevran. “I still think it best you calm for a second.”
“Yes, please stop and think,” said Leliana. “You don’t want to ruin your reputation with the dwarves, do you?”
“Ha!” Arawin laughed as she turned to face them. “What reputation are you talking about? And as for being calm, I think I was the calmest one! It was Zelda who lashed out.”
“Does that really matter?” Leliana said eying her. “You’re the one that stormed off.”
“And you followed.”
“I followed because… hrm,” she sighed. “Because I agree more with you than Zelda at the moment.”
“So then I am right. She’s being an idiot right now, taking the first thing that comes at her.”
“You’re not really helping matters, though.”
Arawin glared at Leliana and shifted her jaw, thinking. The bard was right, she had acted out even if Zelda had done worse. Or at least she thought. Turning around, she spotted a sign that hung over a building with writing that read ‘Tapsters Tavern’. She stared at it longingly.
“Thank the Maker, there’s a tavern. I need a drink.”
“Hmm, that does sound good,” said Zevran. “A drink might be just what you need.”
“I would have to agree,” Leliana said coming to Arawin’s front. “How about we go in there, get you something to drink so you can loosen up a bit, then go find Zelda and the others and have you, um… apologize.”
Arawin was beginning to feel better until she heard that. “What?” she nearly screamed. “You have got to be joking!”
“There’s nothing wrong with apologizing.”
“Yes there is, especially to her!”
“Ara, you were able to apologize to me,” said Zevran. “Why not now?”
“That was different,” Arawin glared. “You weren’t being an asshole.”
“Please, Arawin,” Leliana begged. “Could you please for once be the bigger person and go to Zelda and apologize for the way you acted.”
“I shouldn’t have to. The Princess is the one that needs to do that!”
“Apologizing will get them no where,” Sten said. “I suggest she go to Zelda and challenge her. It is the only way to make amends.”
“I like that idea much better,” Arawin said smiling.
“Sten, you’re not helping.” Leliana glared at him. She turned back to Arawin. “I know that it might be hard for you, but doing this will go a lot farther than fighting her. Besides, do you really think it would be a good idea for the dwarves to see two Grey Wardens fight each other? We’re suppose to be united, and having us split like this over something small is not working in our favor. So please, could you swallow your pride just this once and go find Zelda?” Leliana gave Arawin big eyes and a smile.
Arawin crossed her arms and huffed. She hated the idea but she knew Leliana was right. Looking at everyone she struggled before stomping her foot. “Fine!” she growled. “I’ll go and… apologize. Bleh.” She stuck out her tongue and shook her head.
“Oh thank you,” Leliana sighed.
Arawin rolled her eyes. “But before we do, I’m getting my drink, damn it. I need something to kill my nerves.”
“Of course, Hermosa,” Zevran said gesturing for her to go forward. “We wouldn’t dare deny you of that.”
“Better not,” she said walking past him. It was almost too good to be true as she made her way to the tavern. She hadn’t had a drink since the feast at the Dalish camp and she was beginning to crave one.
She made her way through the crowd of dwarves, towering over them. The dwarves did seem to notice her as she walked by, staring up and gasping at her presence. It made her feel important, as no where else in Ferelden would she, as an elf, get such a reaction. As she thought about it, she barely noticed the dwarf that bumped into her, only glancing back slightly without stopping. It took her a few seconds to finally realize something was wrong.
She knew that bump. It was the same bump she had given to unsuspecting nobles to distract them as she pulled from their pockets. Instantly Arawin stopped, making Zevran run into her. She ignored his question as she frantically searched herself for anything missing. Dar’Misaan, Fang, both were still there as was the red stone she had received in the Gauntlet. Her coin purse still felt full with no rips or cuts. She opened it to look inside and saw it hadn’t been replaced. Stretching back, Arawin felt around to find her quiver filled with arrows and Far Song—Her hand hit air where Far Song should have been. Spinning around, Arawin found the dwarf standing only a few feet away from her, holding the longbow and smiling at her. Arawin glared and the dwarf waved at her and began speeding down the street.
“That little bitch!” Arawin yelled as she took off after her.
“What now?” Leliana said as Arawin bolted past her.
“Oh, I see,” said Zevran. “It appears our fair Grey Warden just got hit by the old ‘bump ’n’ snatch’. Best we follow her.” The three of them along with Kunjo began running through the crowd as well, trying to keep up with Arawin.
Running as fast as she could, Arawin found it interesting that the dwarf could run like she was despite her small legs. It also seemed that the dwarf was playing with her, seeming as if she was slowing down then speeding up right before Arawin could catch her. It was making Arawin frustrated and more determined to catch the dwarf. She was so going to love it when she did. But as Arawin ran after her, she also began to notice that the dwarf might have been leading her somewhere. When ever the dwarf would turn a corner, Arawin would find her on the other side waiting for her before taking off again. She lead her through the Commons then down a small incline into an area that was less desirable than the market area. Arawin even noticed that it seemed worse than the alienage. Dust and uneven rock made up the streets, houses of stone stood lopsided and crumbling, beggars on the sides wore patched and worn clothing, placing out their hands and asking for money as the dwarf and Arawin ran by. There was also a distinctive smell, different from the alienage and one Arawin couldn’t place. It made her a little nauseous, but she didn’t let it slow her down.
Soon the dwarf stopped, having no other way to go as she ran into a dead end. Arawin made sure her only way out was blocked as she unsheathed Fang.
“You have a lot of nerve stealing from me,” she said to the dwarf. “Do you know who I am?” The dwarf turned around and smiled at her, Far Song being held behind her back.
“Of course I do,” she said. “You're one of the Grey Wardens, and an easy target.”
Arawin narrowed her eyes. “Easy target, huh? How about you give me back my bow and I might let you off with just a sever beating.”
“Hmm, it’s tempting,” said the dwarf. “But this bow is very nice. I’ll get quite a few sovereigns for it. Or I could just break it to see how you react. That would be worth it.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Arawin said through her teeth. “If you don’t give my bow back to me in perfect condition, then your head is mine!”
“I’d really like to see that.” Placing the bow down behind her, the dwarf took out her axe and dagger, readying herself to fight. “I would really love to see why you were chosen to be a Grey Warden.”
“Oh you’ll see.” Arawin took out Dar’Misaan, electricity ringing through the metal.
The dwarf huffed. “You need an enchantment on your weapon? Pathetic.”
“Hey, this isn’t an enchantment!” Arawin said pointing Dar’Misaan at her. “It’s something completely different, and I don’t feel like explaining it to you right now.”
“Good, cause I don’t want to hear it.” The dwarf lunged first, striking with her axe which threw Arawin off. It was in her left hand, and she wielded it as if it was her main weapon. Arawin blocked it with Fang then drove Dar’Misaan up, only to find her attack blocked by the dwarf’s dagger. She parried again, the dwarf rounding on her. She was surprised by the dwarf’s agility, that one with such a short and stubby body could move so quick and free seemed baffling to her, perhaps even moving better than she did. Arawin didn’t wonder on it too long, though as she rolled under another swing from her axe, nearly getting close enough to Far Song to grab it but having to defend herself when the dwarf rounded on her again.
The dwarf was fast, keeping her away from Far Song every time she got near enough to grab it. Arawin was starting to get annoyed as it seemed not even her own quick movements were enough.
“Damn it, why don’t you just stand still and let me kill you!” Arawin yelled as Fang missed the dwarf’s head yet again.
“Why don’t you do that,” said the dwarf as she leaped straight toward Arawin’s middle. Dar’Misaan was there just in time to block but the dwarf’s thrust was so strong, Arawin almost lost her balance. “And you still call yourself a Grey Warden? I’ve fought better, and you are just pitiable.”
“Shut up and fight!” Arawin swept Dar’Misaan across her feet at the same time swinging Fang across her head. The dwarf parried both blows and stepped back. She then ran forward, aiming her axe at Arawin’s middle again. Anticipating this, Arawin let her. The axe hit her, but the enchantment kicked in and deflected the blow causing the dwarf to lose focus.
“What the…?”
Arawin still felt the hit, however, but all those nights with Zevran counted for something. Recovering quickly, Arawin brought Dar’Misaan forward, connecting with the dwarf’s dagger and sending sparks flying. Fang however, came up and hooked itself in one of the axe’s holes. She twisted Fang and the dwarf’s axe went flying from her hand. Jumping back, Arawin picked it up and smirked at the dwarf.
“Give that back!” the dwarf yelled.
“Why should I?” said Arawin. “Give me my bow back.”
The dwarf’s teeth clenched. “That axe is special to me, so hand it over!”
“And that bow is special to me!”
The dwarf backed away and picked up Far Song. “What’s so special about a bow?”
“What’s so special about an axe?”
“Just give it back before I break this stupid thing.”
“If you break it then I’ll break your axe!”
“Good luck with that!” the dwarf laughed. “That axe is dwarven made, cut straight from the stone. This bow however is made of wood. I could easily snap it in two.”
“I’d like to see you try,” said Arawin. “That’s not just any type of wood, it’s dragonthorn. Very tough and very durable.”
“Then allow me to test that.” The dwarf took Far Song in both hands and brought it down on her knee. The bow bent slightly but did not break.
Arawin gasped, surprised as she saw what the dwarf had done. Taking the axe in both hands, she brought it down hard on the ground. The axe ricochet back and vibrated in her hands but was otherwise unharmed. The dwarf as well gasped and smashed Far Song on the ground, again nothing happened to the bow. Seeing this, Arawin swung the axe into the wall of one of the buildings. The wall crumbled but the axe was untouched.
This went on for some time, exchanging blows on their weapons but accomplishing nothing.
“You little maggot!” Arawin yelled. “You’re nothing but a deformed toad!”
“Stupid elf!” cried the dwarf. “You look like the tip of a bronto’s dick with that hair!”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Yeah, and I suppose I’m jealous of those clown ears as well? Ha! You’re a stupid and filthy, tree-humping nug-sucker.”
“Well you look like a genlock only they smell better. You smell like regurgitated bad ale that's been left on the floor for several days.”
“I’d have to say you look like the crossbreed between a hurlock and an ogre. What I’m trying to figure out though, is which one was your mother.”
Arawin growled. “Don’t you dare bring my mother in this.”
“Wait, I’m mistaken then,” said the dwarf with a cocky smile. “Your mother isn’t a hurlock or an ogre. She’s a nug! A spineless, brainless, disgusting little nug!”
“That’s it! Now you’re really going to get it!” Arawin threw down all her weapons and leaped at the dwarf with just her hands. The dwarf did the same and the two collided in the middle. Fists and insults went flying as the two hit each other with all their force.
“Stupid, sodding elf!”
“Filth ridden dwarf!”
“I’ll rip out all your hair and feed it to your nug mother!”
“Would you like for me to make that scar of yours even?”
“Tree-humper!”
“Stone-swallower!”
“Ah!” They both screamed at the same time when each one grabbed a handful of the others hair and yanked as their other hands balled into fists and struck each other in the face.
By this time Zevran and the others had caught up with them, finally finding them within the maze of houses and streets in the area. Zevran stopped and stared at the tangle before him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He barely noticed another dwarf, male, standing next to him looking the same way.
“I think I should be stopping this,” he said slowly.
“I think I should be too,” said the dwarf. “But I can’t… look away.”
“Neither can I… It’s so…”
“Beautiful…”
More curses and insults flew from the two women’s mouths as the two men continued to stare.
“Zevran, what in the world are you doing!” cried Leliana as she saw him. “Stop her!”
“Why?” he said seeming hypnotized.
Leliana looked at him dumbfounded before she noticed the dwarf next to him in the exact same way. “Eh, men,” she muttered. “Sten, could you please do something?” The Qunari nodded and went over to the fray.
Arawin screamed as the dwarf sat on her back, pulling her head back by her hair. The dwarf cried out as well as Arawin’s foot came flying up, hitting her in the head. Suddenly both of them found themselves in the air, their feet dangling as Sten held them above the ground.
“Sten, what in the sodding Fade are you doing?” Arawin yelled when she realized what was happening. “Put me down!”
“No.”
“Let me go, you big oaf!” the dwarf cried. Her feet kicked uselessly in the air. “Unfair bringing a giant!”
“Shut up, you little toad,” said Arawin. “I’m not the one that told him to do this. Sten, let me go!”
“No, not until you stop fighting like vermin,” he said.
“Okay, okay, I think we started off on the wrong foot here,” said the male dwarf as he slowly made his way forward.
“Really, and who might you be?” asked Leliana.
“I’m, uh…”
“Don’t say anything, Rye!” the female dwarf said as she struggled to get free again with no avail.
“Hold it, Sora! Did you really think stealing from a Grey Warden was a good idea?” The male dwarf stared up at her and crossed his arms.
“It was… It was all I could think of at the moment to get her attention,” she said.
“What? All you wanted was my attention?” said Arawin. “You could've just asked!”
“Yes, a dwarf like me just comes up and asks a Grey Warden for a moment of her time. Yeah right.”
“It would have been better than stealing at least,” he said as he picked up the bow. He then went over to Zevran and gave it to him. “I do hope you accept my sincerest apologizes on what my partner has done today. I’m afraid she sometimes doesn’t know any better.”
“That’s funny, because sometimes neither does Arawin,” Zevran said staring up at her, smirking.
Arawin glared at him before focusing back on Sten. “Can you please put me down now? I promise I’ll stay calm.”
Sten looked over at Leliana who nodded before he placed both Arawin and Sora down and away from each other.
“And I believe this is yours?” said Leliana as she handed Sora her axe.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said taking it. She checked it before placing it on her back.
Zevran handed Arawin Far Song who checked it as well before replacing it. “It’s fine, but if she had damaged it in any way, I would want her head.”
“Same with my axe, clown ears,” said Sora.
Arawin growled but Zevran grabbed her before she could move forward. “Didn’t you say you were going to stay calm?”
“Only if she keeps her distance and her mouth closed.”
“Right back at you,” Sora said. She would have come forward if her partner hadn’t been holding her back just the same.
“Okay, it looks like I’m going to have to be the negotiator here,” said Leliana. She took the position between Arawin and Sora and looked at the two dwarves. “Now, what is it that you needed Arawin’s attention for?”
“Allow me to introduce myself first,” said the male dwarf as he put himself in front of Sora. “My name is Rylen Aeducan and his is my love, Sora Brosca.”
“Aeducan?” Leliana questioned. “Are you related to Bhelen, by chance?”
“Yes, I am,” said Rylen. “He’s my younger brother.”
“Great,” Arawin said rolling her eyes. “That probably means you want us to help him take the throne?”
“Actually, no. Bhelen becoming king would be harmful, especially to me. I hate my brother because he framed me for the murder of our older brother Trian. But I can explain that later, right now we need to talk about how you're going to get Harrowmont on the throne. Or at least that’s what I think Sora wanted.” He turned to her. “Right?”
“Yes,” she said heated.
Arawin scuffed. “Well, that’s what I was going to do, but now I’m rethinking it after the way I was treated. Maybe I should go to Bhelen right now and-”
“Arawin, please be quiet for once,” said Leliana. She then faced back to Rylen. “So because your brother framed you is the reason you don’t want him to be king?”
“That and I have good reason to think he might've killed our father as well. Bhelen always wanted power, and he hated that both Trian and I were always being placed first before him. Course he was the youngest, what did he expect?”
“Well, I’m not even sure if it would be wise for us to help you.”
“That’s what I thought at first, but I think if a Grey Warden did support either of them, then they would probably have a major foothold in the Assembly.”
“Great, then if that’s the case, Zelda already has a head start,” said Arawin.
“What does that mean?” Sora asked.
“I’m not the only Grey Warden here. There are two others, and they're helping Bhelen with forged documents.”
“I should've known,” said Rylen. “Bhelen always stooped low when it came to getting what he wanted. If that’s the case, then we need to strike quickly, which means I should probably go ahead and take you to Harrowmont’s second, Dulin Forender.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Yes, I might be a wanted criminal right now, but I’m still on good terms with Harrowmont. Dulin and I have been keeping contact, so I know where to find him. If you come with me, then you can talk to him about speaking with Harrowmont.”
“I’ll go,” said Arawin. “But only if she keeps her distance.” Arawin pointed at Sora. “Otherwise you can forget it.”
Sora balled up a fist. “Don’t get too cocky, elf. If you don’t help us there are other ways for us to topple your friends.”
“Be my guest, Zelda’s not really a friend.”
“Arawin,” Leliana moaned. “Be nice, please.”
“Fine. Take us to this Dulin person before I change my mind.”
“Right,” said Rylen. “Follow me. Dulin is probably right where you looked like you were going before Sora snatched your bow. Tapsters Tavern.”
***
On their way back to the Commons and to Tapsters, Rylen filled them in on how he went from being in the noble caste to casteless in less than a week. He also explained the situation they were presently in and why Bhelen and Harrowmont were fighting over who would be king.
“My brother thinks because he's the last of my father’s children that he has a right to the throne, but according to Harrowmont, Endrin made him his chosen heir before he died. That’s hard to determine if it’s true or not because Harrowmont claims my father told it to him in private. Either way, it wouldn’t matter who my father chose, it’s the Assembly that makes the decision of who is going to be king. The chosen heir is only the most likely candidate.”
“And because the Assembly can’t decide who to pick, Harrowmont needs me to help him out, right?” said Arawin.
“Not really, but it wouldn’t hurt, I don’t think,” said Rylen. “But if you did do Harrowmont a favor and he became king, I’m sure he’ll grant you anything you wish, such as troops to fight the Blight you spoke of.”
“Well, he would have no choice. The treaty means he has to send them no matter what when the Grey Wardens call.”
When they eventually entered Tapsters, they were hit with the sickening smells of smoke and puke along with stale urine and ale. Arawin breathed it in, loving every scent.
“Hey! You’re kind aren’t welcomed here!” yelled one of the barkeeps behind the bar.
“And what is that suppose to mean?” Arawin said back.
“He means us,” said Sora. “Casteless aren’t really welcomed anywhere except Dust Town.” Arawin stood up straight from the small crouch she had gone in. If she had been anywhere else in Ferelden, that line would have been tossed at her for being an elf. It seemed that the casteless dwarves and the elves had several things in common.
“That’s right,” said the barkeep. “And as for you Grey Warden, I apologize if you thought I was speaking to you. Your kind is always welcomed here. Now if you two Brands would leave right this second, then I won’t call the guard.”
“You’re really going to make me leave?” Sora said heated. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Sora, come on now,” whispered Rylen. “Don’t start this again.”
“They’re with me, anyway,” said Arawin. “So I suggest you deal with them being here.”
The barkeep didn’t look happy and almost seemed to want to argue, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. “Fine, but if they start anything, it’s on your head.”
“Don’t worry, if they start anything, I’ll take care of it myself. Now, where might I find Dulin Forender?”
“He’s right in the corner over there,” the barkeep said pointing toward a dwarf in the back left corner of the tavern. Rylen lead them over.
“Atrast vala, Dulin,” Rylen said when he reached the dwarf.
“Ah, Rylen, I was wondering when you would be showing up again,” Dulin said after putting down his mug. “I can see life on the streets is starting to take its toll on you.”
“Hopefully that won’t be for too much longer, as I’ve brought a very special guest who wishes to speak with you. May I present Arawin the Grey Warden. She would like to have a word with Lord Harrowmont.”
“Ah, I thought I heard there were Grey Wardens here. It is a pleasure to meet you.“ Dulin stood and bowed to her. “I am Dulin Forender, second to Lord Harrowmont, King Endrin’s own choice as successor. Word is spreading that the surface may suffer a Blight. It is shameful we are not in a better position to help.”
“And that is the exact reason why I am here,” said Arawin. “I need to speak with your lord to see if he can send troops to the surface.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Dulin said looking apologetic. “In an ordinary time, Lord Harrowmont would be honored to meet you. Unfortunately, we’ve already caught more than one of Bhelen’s spies approaching Harrowmont under a pretense of friendship. So, I’m afraid I won’t be able to take your word. If you want to speak to Harrowmont, you will need to prove he can trust you.”
“What! Are you serious? I’m a Grey Warden for Andraste’s sake!”
“Yes, but we still need to be careful. Assassins come in all shapes and forms.”
“Are you saying that I can’t even see him?” asked Rylen.
“I’m afraid not. Harrowmont’s own orders, but he hopes it hasn’t put you off on helping. It’s just precautions.”
“I understand, Dulin. It’s just I’m not used to being treated like this.”
“Bhelen is actually doing the same thing,” said Arawin. “Vartag isn’t letting anyone see him either. Does that mean Harrowmont has tried something as well?”
“The day in the life of a noble dwarf,” said Dulin. “All’s fair in Orzammar.”
“So what do I need to do in order to show I’m not going to kill him?”
“That neither of us are,” added Sora.
“Well,” said Dulin thinking for a moment. “If you really want to prove you are not loyal to Bhelen, and to help us a great deal, then perhaps you can work in Harrowmont’s name.” He thought some more. “Yes, I think that will work.”
“What are you thinking of?” Rylen asked.
“The Proving,” answered Dulin. “Bhelen is hosting a Proving today, supposedly to honor his father’s memory. The deshyrs take it very seriously as the winner is shown to have favor with the Ancestors, and thus may have a better chance at being chosen king. Basically the Proving is Bhelen supporters versus Harrowmont supporters, but unfortunately, Bhelen found some way to blackmail or intimidate House Harrowmont’s best fighters into stepping down. At this point there is no one willing to fight for Harrowmont at all in the Proving, which means he will have to forfeit.”
“Let me guess, are you then wanting me to enter in on Harrowmont’s side?” Arawin said cocking an eyebrow. “What’s a Proving anyway? Is it some type of competition?”
“Yes,” said Dulin. “It’s a set of rounds with one warrior against another. If you win your round you continue on to the next until either you lose or become champion. And as for you entering in Harrowmont’s name, I think that would make the statement we need.”
“Absolutely not!” cried Sora. “She may be a Grey Warden, but she’s a horrible fighter! Let me enter in the Proving, I’ll win for sure.”
“You know exactly why that can’t happen, Sora,” said Dulin. “You are casteless and will be thrown right in the dungeons if you even tried. I also hope you haven’t forgotten last time you tried to be in the Proving. This time Rylen won’t be there to help you out.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Sora said looking away.
“And who says I’m a horrible fighter?” Arawin said glaring at her. “That was only one fight, and I wasn’t impressed with you either.”
“I could easily have beaten you if it wasn’t for that stupid armor of yours,” Sora said staring back at her. “Cheater, putting enchantments on both weapons and armor. Shows how much skill you have.”
“I already told you, the lightning on my blade is not an enchantment!”
“So what, it’s still cheating.”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
“Are you two going to start sticking your tongues out at each other now?” said Leliana. “You both as acting immature.”
“I’ll show you,” said Arawin looking away from Sora and back to Dulin. “I’ll enter that Proving and win for Harrowmont.”
“That is good to hear,” said Dulin.
“Hold on there,” Zevran said coming closer. He had been standing in the back with Sten, only listening to the conversation. “As much as I would love to see you fight, mi querida, he still has not yet explained why the others backed out of the match.”
“He said they were being blackmailed,” said Arawin.
Zevran laughed. “Blackmailed with what?”
“If we knew that,” said Dulin. “Then everything would be fine and we wouldn’t need Arawin.”
“So this Harrowmont is to be your king, then?” Zevran mocked. “One who cannot keep his own men from running like frightened children?”
Dulin narrowed his eyes at him. “Lord Harrowmont does not use threats or intimidation to motivate his men. He leads by example.”
“Ah, I see. So his example is to run and hide when things become the most hectic. Yes, a fine example he is.”
“How dare you slander Lord Harrowmont!”
“What are you getting at, Zevran?” Arawin asked.
“Just stating what I see.” He turned back to Dulin who looked to murder him. “Take for example this lovely creature,” he said gesturing to Arawin. “She is given loyalty because her example is to never back down. In which she never does. Trust me, I know.”
“Hmm, I like him,” said Sora.
“Why thank you!”
“He does speak the truth. Neither of us backed down from each other and I respect that.”
“As do I,” said Arawin, smiling for the first time at the dwarf. “But as for you, Zev. I understand what you mean, but I’m still doing this. I need to.”
“Oh but of course,” he said smirking at her. “You need the exercise, yes?”
“I don’t necessarily agree with his comments,” Dulin said still glaring. “But if you're still willing to compete then you need to hurry to the Proving Grounds. The Proving is about to start and they won’t let you enter after the first match has begun.”
“Really? Then we better get going,” said Arawin.
“I’ll take you to the Grounds,” gestured Rylen.
“Good luck, Warden,” Dulin said after them as they began to leave. “I shall stay here where I know I’ll hear the outcome. Hopefully it will be a good one.”

Paraphrasing from Dragon Age: Origins
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