A/N - To those who are discovering this story for the first time, I bid you welcome! And to those who are revisiting it, I say welcome back! I would like to thank my wonderful beta Eve Hawke (be sure to check her out if you haven't already done so) for all of her hard work and support. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Reviews are welcome and appreciated :)

"Shhh!" Zoya stopped in her tracks, nearly losing her balance as she spun to press her fingers against her cousins' mouths. She grinned in triumph as she managed to hit her targets, not an easy thing to do as they'd somehow doubled in number. "You're being too loud - the whole Alienage'll hear you."

"Zoya! You made me spill…" Soris whined as he set down the pail he was carrying and rubbed at his breeches.

Shianni giggled, "The last thing we need's for anyone to catch us right now, 'specially with Soris standing there looking like he pissed himself!"

"Ha! If he'd put what he wanted in that bucket, that'd be truer than any of us'd want." She wrinkled her nose as she peered around the corner of the building, "It's all clear – let's get this thing set up already!"

Slinking along the cobbles, she hugged the crumbling walls of the houses until she neared the gate. Damn it! Why won't the cursed thing stand still? Rubbing an impatient hand across her eyes, she squinted, willing the heavy wooden timbers to stay in focus. Feminine giggling chimed somewhere behind her, and she whirled toward it, the whole world continuing to spin long after her head had stopped moving. As her meager dinner leapt upward, threatening to make a surprise reappearance, she sank into a crouch against the wall and hung her head.

"Hey! Watch where you're-" One pair of legs tripped over Zoya, followed by a second pair that took all three elves down in a tangle. The remaining contents of the bucket splashed over them all. Glaring at her cousins from under dripping hair, she sputtered, "Andraste's flamey bits and pieces! Now we gotta refill the bucket."

Soris looked at his cousin with wide eyes as Zoya shook the pail at him. "What? Why me?" Struggling to his feet, he stuck out his tongue and shot them an obscene gesture as he turned to walk away.

"Uh oh… someone's getting grumpy. Won't be too long before he passes out, I think." Zoya threw her hands up in the air as Shianni shot her a chastising look. "What? He was the one carrying the damned thing when it all spilled." She dragged a hand through bedraggled curls as Shianni's head wobbled in agreement.

They watched him stumble off, the bucket rattling in his hands, as they flopped down to the damp cobbles to wait. Zoya leaned against Shianni with a sigh as the elf's hands toyed with her hair.

By the time Soris returned, Zoya's head was covered with uneven braids. He chuckled, giving her a wide grin as he pulled his cousins to their feet, "Well at least she didn't have scissors this time – no permanent harm done to your glorious mane."

"Shut it, Soris. At least it's outta my face for a bit," Zoya gave her cousin a shove before she turned to stalk toward the gate. Maker! Was it always this… big? Swallowing hard, she let her eyes follow the structure skyward.

"Here, I'll give you a boost." Zoya jumped as Soris' voice sounded near her ear. "Unless you're chickening out-"

"Just don't drop me this time." She gave her cousin a quick peck on the cheek as she gripped his shoulders and stepped into his interlaced fingers.

He shot her upwards with a grunt, "You might wanna lay off the late night snacks, cousin - you're getting heavy."

"And you might wanna start lifting more than just a mug – you're getting soft." Zoya stuck her tongue out as she climbed the structure to reach the crossbeam over the gate. Tying a rope to the timbers, she lowered it for Soris to attach to the bucket. Shimmying toward the center of the gate, she pulled it up.

"Hey! Watch it! You're spilling, and I'm not gonna get more water if you do. I don't see why you can't just magic it up there," Soris complained.

"It doesn't work that way. Well, mine doesn't at least." Zoya's face twisted into a grimace. And I'm not going to risk calling the Templars down on me for a silly prank.

"Well than what's the good of it?" He sighed loudly in relief when she got it up onto the beam without spilling a drop.

Offering her most innocent smile, Zoya tipped the bucket to let some of the cold liquid slop over the edge. "Oops!"

Soris squealed like a girl as the water hit him. "You're such a brat!"

"Aww… But I know you still love me… right, Soris?" She started to settle the bucket in place.

"This is the best prank you've ever come up with, Zoya! I can't wait to see that uppity elf get soaked." Shianni provided a terrible imitation of Erlina's Orlesian accent, "Oh my… Ees zat a new dress? When I was in Orlais, we would never allow ourselves to be seen in such drab rags. Why do you let your 'air curl zat way? In Orlais, we 'ave special irons zat would smood zat mess."

Zoya laughed, nearly loosing her balance as she shifted to hang upside down from the beam, setting the trigger for her trap. She offered her own imitation of the fancy elf, feeling dizzy as the blood rushed to her head, "You are coarse and rude, and you will never be refined enough to serve as my queen's 'andmaiden. Your 'ands are far too callused to be able to wipe my beautiful queen's bottom wizout 'er taking notice." Dragging herself upright, she giggled. "Her Majesty would never want your filzy, filzy mouz fouling 'er lovely silver while you taste her pickled pigeon for poison."

"Ha! Say that three times fast - poisoned pickled pigeon…" Shianni doubled over as she giggled. As soon as Zoya started to make her way to the end of the structure to climb down, her cousin peered up in alarm, "No… it needs to move a touch to the right. Erlina always walks directly through the center of the gate. I've seen her in the morning, standing smack dab in the middle with her elbows out so no one else can get near and glaring at the guard as she waits for him to unlock it. No, your other right!"

Zoya quirked an eyebrow at the elf as she crept back toward the center of the beam, "Easy for you to say while you're safe down there. It's my ass hanging off the gate."

"I still think we should have stuck something other than water in that bucket. Maybe your special Denerim rabbit stew, Shianni." Soris chuckled.

"Eww…" Zoya felt the bile rise in her throat, "You mean the one she makes out of rats?"

"Rabbits of the city, Zoya." Shianni giggled, "Besides, you didn't mind it so much until you figured out it wasn't really rabbit."

"Or maybe the contents of a chamberpot?" Soris ignored them, continuing to mutter about things to put in the bucket between fits of laughter. "Or with Old Sam's bathwater, or washwater from the orphanage's nappies, or fish slime? Oh! I know… the contents of that barrel behind Wade's Emporium. You know… the one with the gross stuff from tanning and dyeing the leathers for armor?"

As Zoya pictured the prissy elf covered in a rainbow of stinky slime from that barrel, she started giggling. As it grew to convulsive laughter, she swayed on the timber, her arms flailing to grab anything that would stop her from falling. But her hands found nothing. "Maker's balls!" There was only empty air surrounding her for one heart stopping moment, and then the cobbles leapt up to greet her.

"Shit! Zoya are you alright? Say something!" Shianni and Soris hovered over her.

She coughed as she tried to fill her lungs with air again, fighting to make her mouth work. It could have just been the ringing in her ears from the fall, but Zoya was sure she could hear the clatter of armor. Her voice was a choked rasp, "Guard-"

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Her cousins grabbed her under the arms, half carrying, half dragging her the short distance back to their home.

~oOo~

Zoya's head was still ringing from her fall as she and Shianni left their home. Just as she'd predicted, they hadn't been there long before Soris was snoring loudly in his bunk. It was too bad, really. They were in for a good laugh at Erlina's expense.

The Alienage was still tucked under a blanket of deep purple as they crept toward the gate. Hunkering down behind some old crates, their slender hands clung to the rough wood as they peered through the open slats. Zoya's head throbbed and her eyelids grew heavy as they waited, and she turned to lean her back against the wood with a heavy sigh.

She was taken by surprise when her cousin elbowed her, "Andraste's ass, Shianni. What is it?" Her ribs were still tender from their lost battle against the Alienage's cobbles.

"Our guest of honor has arrived, sweet cousin. I thought you might not want to sleep through the show." Shianni grinned widely, her eyes glittering with anticipation.

Zoya rubbed at bleary eyes, shifting to peer once more through the crates. Erlina approached the gate in clipped steps, her back stiff and her shoulders square. Just before reaching the timbers, the elf came to a halt, digging through her satchel. "Wait! What's she doing?"

"Umm… Zoya, isn't that the Captain of the Guard?" Anxiety filled Shianni's tone.

Zoya's frantic gaze searched the area. "And isn't that Valendrian?" Her heart leapt into her Elder was going to make it through the gate before the snobby elf!

"Zoya, no!" Shianni held her in place as she struggled. Their eye's locked, cringing in unison as the sound of splashing water and cries of surprise broke the stillness of the morning. "Maker's ass! We really messed up this time."

~oOo~

Fidgeting in the worn, wooden chair, Zoya mindlessly flipped through the pages of the book in front of her. Valendrian had kept her at her studies for most of the day. He'd even taken away her stick of lead when he'd caught her doodling in the margins of his books. What kind of twisted mind used studying as a punishment anyway? She yawned and stretched, rubbing roughly at her eyes. So bored! Sitting in front of these books since early this morning had made her bottom numb, her eyes burn, and the muscles between her shoulders knot. But then being hung over and falling off the gate probably weren't helping that any.

Admittedly, she'd only herself, and maybe a few too many pints of ale and the influence of her cousins, to blame for her current situation. It really was a brilliant idea, had it worked the way it was supposed to. How was she to know that the guard would have no sense of humor, or that it would be Valendrian who was first through the gate? And who could have guessed that the Captain of the Guard would be in the splash zone?

Watching the guard yell and carry on as if it had been something vile in the bucket instead of just water had been funny, though. And it had been hard not to laugh out loud when Erlina had tried pin her with a nasty glare. The elf would never be able to prove that the pail had been meant for her, and that would be just another reason for her to dislike Zoya, not that she cared much.

Zoya shifted to ease the discomfort in her legs - they weren't used to staying still for so long. Andraste's ass! So much of the day wasted. If Zoya could have just accepted her punishment, she would have been done with it by now. But compliance had never been one of her strengths, and trying to get out of it had only earned her the second half of the day. She sighed loudly, her fingers drumming on the scarred surface of the table and her feet kicking its legs. There was no need to look up to feel the brunt of Valendrian's disapproving scowl.

Zoya arranged her face into an expression she hoped was sufficiently meek, "Elder, I believe I've learned my lesson."

"Do tell." Valendrian looked dubious as he regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

Zoya was careful to keep her eyes focused on the books in front of her and her face neutral as she recited what she thought he'd want to hear. "I must always consider the consequences of my actions. They affect everyone around me - what affects one affects all." Zoya looked up at the elder who was nodding at her wisely. She knew she should quiet her tongue and leave well enough alone, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them. "And I learned that humans tend to overreact and I shouldn't be so quick to step forward and admit my guilt. And next time I'll make sure that I position the bucket so it looks like the humans set the trap."

Valendrian cleared his throat, his voice terse as he chastised her "Your quick tongue will either be your salvation or doom. Only you can decide which." He shook his head sadly, "Zoya, you have always been a bright child, but you need to think before you act. I don't think you truly appreciate the seriousness of the situation. We are perched on the edge of an abyss. Tensions between our people and the humans run high. We don't know what will push either group over the edge." Valendrian lay his hands on her shoulders and looked at her sternly. "I do appreciate that you and Shianni stepped forward to take the blame for your reckless behavior. But you were very lucky the Captain allowed me to administer your punishment. All of you could have ended up in the stocks. Your cousins look to you for guidance. You need to set a better example."

Her eyes avoided Valendrian's as the corners of her mouth twitched upwards into a tense grin. "If it weren't for my influence, there would have been far worse than water in that bucket, you know."

Valendrian threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "Zoya Tabris, I will not..." A loud knocking interrupted him, and Zoya was thankful for the distraction. The elder was overreacting as badly as the humans - it was just a little prank.

Valendrian rubbed his forehead and sighed heavily. "Enter."

The door opened, and sunlight and fresh air streamed into the room. Zoya inhaled deeply, reveling in the feel of sunshine on her skin and wishing she was outside, or at least anywhere she wouldn't be stuck studying or listening to the elder's lectures. The silhouette in the open doorway told her that the visitor was elven and male. It wasn't until the brightness was closed off again and the figure moved toward her that she recognized her father.

Throwing herself at Cyrion, Zoya wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheeks. It had been nearly a month since he'd left with his employer on a trading caravan to Highever, and she'd missed him terribly.

Cyrion smiled at her, a calloused hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. "I missed you too, my girl."

"How was your trip, Cyrion? Uneventful I hope? Everything well in the Highever Alienage?" Valendrian pulled a chair from the table and gestured for Cyrion to take a seat. "Zoya, clear some space for your father and get him a drink."

Zoya stacked the scattered books to one side of the table and hurried to the sideboard to retrieve a bottle of mead and a chunk of sweet bread. She set cups in front of Cyrion and Valendrian and filled them in silence, thankful the elder wasn't going to tell her father about her prank right away.

"Yes, mostly uneventful. We passed a lot of soldiers on their way to Ostagar. Word on the road was that darkspawn are massing in the Wilds south of Ostagar and the King is sending troops to fight them." Cyrion paused for a drink, then broke off a chunk of bread.

"Are the Grey Wardens there?" Zoya asked excitedly. Since Zoya's earliest memories, her mother had filled her ears with tales of the Wardens and their tireless battles against darkspawn. Valendrian's books held even more stories, and she knew them all by heart, gobbling them as eagerly as any starving urchin. And Duncan, Ferelden's Warden Commander, had visited the Alienage often in her childhood. And while his visits meant her mother would be leaving for weeks at a time, Zoya had always trusted that he would bring Adaia back to her. A small, wistful smile crossed her face as she recalled how each trinket he presented to her on his return was accompanied by a story of adventure. He called her his little magpie, laughing as she flitted off to hide every treasure. Duncan's visits comprised some of her favorite memories, but after her mother's death Duncan had stopped coming.

At the mention of the Grey Wardens, Cyrion slammed the cup down on the table hard enough to chip its base and frowned at her. His voice was tense when he answered, "I would imagine so." He shifted his gaze back to Valendrian as he continued to deliver his report, "Anyway, we did brisk trade with the soldiers on the road. The new hahren in Highever is adjusting quickly to his position and is eager for continued relations and trade with us. Things are better in their Alienage now that the wasting sickness has passed. They didn't lose nearly as many as the last outbreak. Teyrn Bryce sent in healers early this time, which made a big difference. The hahren is optimistic for a peaceful and productive future. It sounds like the teyrn's daughter, who is going to be running things while her father and brother are in Ostagar, is sympathetic to elves and the Alienage." Cyrion paused and regarded Zoya with a meaningful look. "And, I was able to secure a match for Zoya while I was there."

"You what!" Zoya knocked into the stack of books in her surprise, sending them tumbling across the floor. Her stomach clenched and her hand flew to her mouth as the meager contents of her stomach rose into her throat.

"It's time for you to marry, my girl. I've let you remain a child far longer than I should have. And the Highever Alienage is a much safer place. I think you'll be happy with your husband-to-be. He's the youngest son of a blacksmith and very skilled at his trade. He made this dagger, in fact; perhaps you'd like it? I wouldn't let him see you carrying it, though, since I didn't tell him of your interest in weapons." Cyrion pulled the sheathed dagger from where it was hidden inside his tunic and handed it to her.

Zoya was surprised to see her father carrying a dagger, let alone giving it to her. Cyrion had been insistent that she follow the arl's proclamation that elves not carry weapons. Getting caught with a weapon was punishable by death, generally by the very weapon the elf was caught carrying. She pulled the dagger from its sheath, looking it over. It was a finely crafted silverite blade, longer than she was used to, with a simple black hilt. Unlike many of the blades she'd handled over the years, this one was properly sized to her smaller elven hand.

A quiet sigh left her lips as she sheathed it again, laying it on the table before Cyrion. "What if I don't want to marry?"

"And what else would you do?" her father asked, incredulous. "You're old enough that it's time for you to be an adult; to marry and have children and put aside your swordplay and drinking. I fear that I won't be able to keep you safe from the humans in this city for much longer. Your mother would never want you to suffer her fate. She would want me to do what I must to keep you safe."Cyrion's hand trembled as it tightened around the bottle, his face taking on the haunted look he sometimes wore when he spoke of Adaia. She'd done what was necessary to ensure Zoya's survival, and he'd been unable to stop her. He refilled his cup and drank deeply. "At least in Highever, married into a well-respected family, you may be safe."

"I don't know this elf, and I know no one in Highever. Shianni and Soris need me. You need me. I can't leave." Zoya knew her argument was thin, but she had to try. "Besides, what if I never love him or he never loves me? I can't do this, father. If you fear for my safety, let Soris, Shianni and I go to the Dalish. Surely you know where they can be found? They would take us in, I'm sure of it. Mother would have rather I go to them than enter into a loveless marriage with someone I've never met." Her hands clung to his as she knelt before him, green eyes pleading with him to change his mind.

"Zoya Tabris, daughter of Cyrion and Adaia, the match is made and the dowry paid. You will be married a month from now. There will be no argument and no discussion. You will obey your father, and you will obey me." Valendrian spoke in a quiet but firm voice, and Zoya's eyes grew wide, her face paling. The elder's speech struck her like the back of a hand. She swallowed her reply, knowing there was no point in arguing further.

The silence became uncomfortable as Cyrion and Valendrian waited, expecting her to continue her objections. Zoya swallowed the lump in her throat and bowed to her father and Valendrian before softly speaking. "May I please be excused, elder?"

"Of course. Please relay to Soris that I must speak to him as soon as possible."

Zoya hurried from Valendrian's home, fighting the urge to slam the door behind her. Angry tears welled, blurring her vision. How could her father do this to her? Adaia had always insisted that Zoya be allowed to make her own choices, and now her father was taking them away. And to send her away from everyone she loved in this world – it wasn't fair! She'd done everything anyone had ever asked of her – why was she being punished like this? The flurry of thoughts threatened to overcome her as she stumbled blindly towards the home she shared with her father and cousins.

The clamor in her head was suddenly silenced by a strong hand gripping her shoulder. An instinctual reaction to free herself took control as she wrapped her hand around the offending wrist. Crouching to pull him off balance, she spun to twist her attacker's arm behind his back.

"Hold on - Zoya, it's me! Stop before you really hurt me." Zoya looked up to see Soris peering over his shoulder at her, his face pale with pain and surprise. "I was calling you but you didn't seem to hear. What's wrong? You look like you've been crying, cousin."

"Not here and not now. Get Shianni and meet me at the tenement as soon as you can. And get as much ale as you can carry. Oh, and Valendrian wants to speak with you right away. Let's hope you get better news than I just did, cousin." Zoya released Soris' arm and continued toward her home. The sight of the elf going pale at the thought of facing the elder made her sorry for her harsh words. He looked as ill as she felt, and she took no comfort in the knowledge that it was likely he would soon share her misery.