A/N: As promised, the second part of the two-shot story. I had fully intended to flesh-out Samael's character beyond just his dialogue in the first chapter, it just took... a long while, and this chapter gives more character insights on those who were directly affected by either his actions or by a consequence of his actions.

A mighty roar echoed in the once abandoned Soldier's Peak. The Drydan family gazed up in stunned awe at the magnificent beast that had just flown away from Soldier's Peak.

Avernus, the only one inside the Peak, had actually left his research momentarily to see a bird's eye view of the black dragon that had swiftly taken to the sky. It roared an ethereal green fire as its mighty black wings bellowed in the harsh wind.

What was a black dragon doing here? Where had it come from? Where in the Maker's name was it headed toward?

Shianni led him toward the bed. He had been 'kind' enough to remove his armor and inner clothes, all that was left was his rag-torn underpants. He smirked in a pleased manner as she got on her knees and began to remove the undergarment. She began her menstruations.

Shianni shook her head to get rid of the shameful memories. How she hated Samael for what he had her do to protect her home. Such perverse and disgusting acts just to satisfy him… and what made it worse was that, unlike Vaughn who felt pleasure whenever she screamed to stop, she had to fake being happy about it. She had taken it all with a pleased smile and felt infinitely dirtier for it.

The worst of it was… though she would swiftly deny it, unlike Vaughn, a part of her sorely enjoyed the night shared with Samael… because Samael was the only one she had ever wanted to be intimate with. He had taken her to such pleasurable heights of euphoria and shameful as it was, she cried herself to sleep at times because she missed him. Shianni hated to admit it but Samael was the only boy she had ever… or would ever love. She had secretly been happy with Alarith's death since Alarith had been pushing her to marry him since she was "used goods".

Samael… had always made her feel special…

Shianni lay on the bed in sweat after having climaxed with him so ferociously. Maker, how she was loving it. He had done it so harshly and she couldn't help but scream his name out in pleasure. Samael smirked down on her, realizing that she was, in fact, enjoying this perverse use of her body. Shianni tried to crack her eyes open, she felt so tired. All her energy was spent.

Samael shook his head before deftly flipping her over. He brought her knees up so that her ass would be facing upward. Shianni made a noise in the pillow before waves of pleasure consumed her body yet again as Samael pounded into her vigorously from behind. She screamed out his name once more in a crescendo.

…at least before he had sold her out to Vaughn. That had been the ultimate betrayal. She had no longer become his Shianni, she had become nothing more than something he could trade away for profit. He had done it again that night and yet she had felt… complete that night. Like nothing was missing from her life. Now she felt a hole in her heart… fortunately that had been filled up to an extent…

"Mama, I b-bwaght y-you, th-this flower." said a little boy walking happily toward Shianni. Shianni chuckled slightly. Claudius cutely raised the flower as high as he could toward his mother. Shianni bent toward him to take the flower from him. She inspected her son's features. A spitting image of his father in most respects, except for his hair and his eyes which were red and brown like Shianni's. Miraculously, young Claudius didn't come with any birth defects. The Healers that King Alistair had graciously sent to help her with her birth had stated whomever the father was had built his body to the point where it was immune to most genetic diseases and thus it had not carried over. Alistair and Shianni had agreed to keep the father a secret for fear of possible murder attempts on the child. The popular belief was that the child was the son of Alarith and while Shianni despised this she knew it was necessary and much more preferable than the truth. The elves were… gullible enough to believe it despite the obvious physical differences that Claudius had with Alarith. She would be ostracized by her people if word got out she had fucked her own hated cousin and bore his child.

Shianni took the flower from Claudius and tucked it behind her ear before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him on the forehead. The hole within her heart had been filled… because Samael had left her with something to remember. She loved her son and she would raise their son by herself just as Samael wanted…

It was a sunny day near the farming borders of the Free Marches. A figure, dressed secretively in a white cloak, stood on a hill in a clearing, waiting patiently. Preparing itself for what was to come.

Hawke confidently walked towards the figure.

"If you desire my death… then do it. I've brought enough grief and misery to people I care for."

"You're sure of this? You realize what you're agreeing to-"

"Yes. It is…. better this way. I… failed to protect my brother, then my sister, and my mother. My entire family is no more… my companions are gone as well. I'm only a fool on the run from Chantry seekers who wish to use me to take control of mages seeking sovereignty from a vile religious organization that has only ever been out to save their own asses."

"Hawke… please, please don't do this! I-" shouted a voice running up quickly behind them.

"It's too late Merrill! We can't allow Flemeth, that vile wretched monster, to use me to keep her damned hold on the world! You know why I MUST do this! People need freedom… just as the mages of the Circles do. We… I… must die and with my death… shall people behold a truly different world."

"NO! NO, I WON'T ALLOW THIS-!" began Merrill, beginning to cry. She ran faster toward the sunny clearing.

Hawke gazed at the figure unafraid as they took their scepter and pointed it at Hawke. Merrill had foolishly forgotten her staff in her rush to save her Hawke. She ran attempting to get to her love in time before…

"Goodbye… Dumat, Lord of all silence."

Hawke gave a nod of understanding. Flemeth had to die at all costs. His life… had become pathetic. The only good in it had been Merrill and a few of his other companions… and Flemeth had to be killed at all costs to keep them safe from her wretched control. If his death helped achieve freedom for those he loved? Then he was all the more honored to die a fool's death!

A wretched black aura was pulled apart from Hawke as his very soul was torn asunder and thrown into the winds. The power blasted Merrill away as she was too frantic to properly defend herself from the explosion of magical power.

Tears trickled down the unconscious elf's face as Hawke had fell face forward, never to rise again.

Morrigan teleported away, her objective achieved. She would never admit to herself how much of a personal affront this necessary deed had been not only to her spiritual beliefs but to her relationship with Samael as well. It was clear that Flemeth had tried, and failed, to create some second version of Samael that could've grown strong enough to kill Morrigan so that her mother wouldn't need to do it herself.

Dumat, the first Archdemon's soul, held the power of silence and could have ended Morrigan's tune, changing the fated events Flemeth had set forth. Hawke, unfortunately, had no way of getting out of Flemeth's control as he was created to be Flemeth's champion above all else.

Anora smiled down happily watching her daughter run around the courtyard playing with the children of other noble families from her balcony. Within their own high society confines, the children were allowed such foolishness.

She was content. Her tryst with Samael had resulted in a daughter so there was no possible way for the girl to inherit the throne and fortunately enough the girl resembled Anora's father and there didn't seem to be any dominant elf features present. To make sure nobody questioned the child's birth, she had practically forced Alistair to consummate their marriage immediately after the Blight was stopped and their ceremonial wedding done. Alistair had been less than forthcoming, something Anora found personally insulting as she happened to be one of the most beautiful women in all of Thedas, and it took some persuasion about the good of the country. She had even lowered herself to having Arl Eamon help convince Alistair, of all the embarrassments.

Alistair was even more resilient since then when she tried goading or enticing him into sexual intercourse with her. She was disgusted. While she had a kingdom, a child, riches as vast as the eye could see, overwhelming public support, and prominent authority in all lawful matters (as Alistair was little more than just a trophy King) she didn't… and likely never would… have a fulfilling personal relationship. Calin had been an idiot and a rock in the sack. Alistair made the intimacy feel completely awkward. He made it seem as if he was being violated by her and that angered her to no end.

How could someone turn down the offer of sex from someone of her figure never mind her stature? Why were the men in her life such prudes? Anora would never admit it to herself but that night with Samael had been the happiest moment of her life. There were no legal headaches or stupid people that needed matters settled, there wasn't a threat of war or violence, and there wasn't any worry for what the nobles, most of whom (Arl Eamon included) viewed her as a wrongful leader on the throne due to her commoner background despite who her father was.

It had been simplicity at its finest. A man and a woman pursuing their own interests in exploring each other sexually.

Samael having briefly made an impact in her life had been the best and worst decision Anora had ever made… or ever would make in her life. Politics, taking care of an idiot King, and worrying about stability were all that was left for her to do in her lifetime.

Fucking Samael was all she dreamed about now…

Alistair was dead…

Or so he wished.

He truly never had the chance to simply live his life – to simply be himself.

He now wore a fake smile and endured cheers of being a King, of being the next in line, of continuing it.

He had become the ultimate symbol of something he never wanted – a man who was only of use as others saw fit.

Eamon, he now knew, only wanted him for being a bastard and political gains he could score from Alistair's favors.

Anora only wanted him to secure her own power within Denerim. She had gone as far as practically raping him just so she wouldn't have a chance at losing it.

He would smile as he walked around Denerim, seeing the rats come at him, appraise him when before the rats had never bothered to give him any respect. Duncan had given him respect at least…

No one cared… nobody cared for him so he never bothered to care for himself…

It was stupid, he knew. That was a stupid logic to follow but Alistair had always been an emotional person and as such he followed his emotions more than logical thinking.

He hated it, he hated it all! To hell with it all!

He hated walking around in public demonstrations with that false smile that Anora taught him to wear, he hated delegating all these stupid government duties to Anora with only being required to sit and look pretty because Fereldan needed his title of being a bastard for stability in the country, he hated Arl Eamon for being so treacherous – using him for his own political gains – for lying all his life about caring for him beyond just being a tool he could exploit… he had realized that far too late. He fucking hated Anora for being a complete bitch, for forcing him to have a child to 'secure' Fereldan's hierarchy (more like to further secure her own position of power especially after finding out about Cailan's intentions from the notes Samael found at Ostagar), and for their stupid political marriage that now dictated his entire life. He HATED Samael for being the worst asshole he had ever met. He had liked the prick at first before the man proved himself to be a cutthroat bastard after Alistair chickened out of being leader of the group.

All that was left was self-pity and self-hate. Nothing really mattered in his life anymore.

In the end, after being a Templar recruit, a Grey Warden, and the most notable a bastard, he had realized it had all meant nothing to him in the end.

The Templars never needed him, the Grey Warden's never needed him with people like Samael around, and Fereldan only needed him for something he never had any control over.

In the end, his only notable worth was to sit down, smile, and crack a few wise-ass jokes to convince everyone that he was happy with himself. That's all it took to mislead those idiotic masses. It's all people expected – wanted – from him.

It's all he had ever truly been worth.

Sister Nightingale sat on her comfy chair pouring through her notes about the Hero of Fereldan. She was currently reading through all the notes sent directly from Denerim about the Hero of Fereldan before his recruitment by the deceased Grey Warden commander.

Ever since the Blight ended, the Chantry had taken steps in recognizing how much this man was a threat to their grip over the world. They had already failed with Tevinter, though that was no surprise considering the mutual animosity with the Chantry painting the Imperium as villainous peoples who resembled cartoon caricatures of evil. The grip on Kirkwall had fell flat on its face as mages and even templars had started rebelling all around the world.

Cassandra Pentaghast had been assigned to gain background information on the mysterious Champion of Kirkwall and Leliana herself had been assigned by the Divine to conduct her own background check on the Hero of Fereldan to distinguish truth from fiction. They needed vital information on the elusive hero of Thedas. They needed to understand him on an idiosyncratic level, his habits, and his own historical actions before he finally defeated the Blight. Since she had already failed meeting him to spy on the bastard about nine years prior, she was left finding as many accounts as possible.

After distinguishing the hearsay from the truth, she had found that after having interviews and learning several accounts about the man, she started to see a pattern.

Unlike how she had previously believed, Samael Tabris did not harbor hatred for humans. He held malevolence for elves. All elves. This in itself was disturbing especially considering the political power he had. The man was cutthroat, blood thirsty, and a realist. He didn't consider himself part of any elf society nor did he hold any amount of value toward any sort of personal identification such as citizenship, race, or Order. The man practically despised the very concept of order itself.

If not for having actually used his Grey Warden treaties and honoring his duties as a Warden, the man may as well have been considered an anarchist. The Warden's disappearance had certainly caused a stir among the Fereldan masses. Where had the mysterious hero gone? One couldn't simply vanish… yet vanish their hero did.

Many believed he had simply taken a position at Weissupt or went to travel the world and the Grey Warden's did nothing to correct those rumors. After all, nobody wanted to flag the news that the man literally vanished from the world.

Finding out about his deeds were easy enough. She had learned much from her travels around Fereldan to discover his actions in the different locations he had journeyed. Orzammar was at the peak of a golden age after all, everyone knew about the events in Denerim as it was common knowledge even to leaders of other countries, his actions at Redcliffe seemed more mythical but she knew of the ruins that the Chantry had made – and failed- to make pilgrimages for because of the High Dragon that had utterly destroyed the place, his actions among the elves were easy enough to find out about, and his other lesser known side adventures had only taken a bit more time to discover.

The man was cold and ruthless but efficient. There was some alarming information though. He had murdered a group of humans in a deep cave rumored to nest Werewolves in the Brecillian forest. However, this could readily be explained that he had instead murdered werewolves and they had simply changed back to their true state upon death. It couldn't warrant any charges as these people were either not among any recorded accounts of missing people or were had been reportedly cursed with being a werewolf. As such, she couldn't pin any blame on the Hero of Fereldan for what could have been mere self-defense. The charges would be far too circumstantial.

The elves sacrificed with blood magic in the Alienage however? Unfortunately, they were elves, and the law didn't perceive it as a huge loss. Bringing it up during Fereldan's food riots among the Alienage would have been a terrible political maneuver especially since Queen Anora cooperated well with the Chantry demands about information concerning the Hero of Fereldan, the Apostate Morrigan, and the history of the Champion of Kirkwall during his time in Lothering (admittedly, there was scant few records on the latter two) despite outwardly being known as 'sovereign' among international politics.

Politics and reality weren't always the same thing.

The Chantry's forces were among the largest across the world, ushering in soldiers all over Thedas willing to fight for the Divine and the Chant of Light. They were the strongest transnational organization in the world, stronger even than the Grey Wardens who were only necessary during the Blight. The Chantry did recognize their need for Grey Wardens, however, and respected their right to stay out of political struggles.

Samael Tabris had utterly destroyed that golden rule. Orzammar and the Dalish obviously didn't follow the laws of the Chantry so they were unspoken for. The calling of the Landsmeet and placing a Grey Warden on the throne, however, was questionable. Though the accounts of Alistair being a bastard of Maric's was true and consistent. The Chantry's objections stopped once blackmail information was uncovered revealing that Alistair's mother was an elf and a mage. Mages had always been… disapproved of by the Chantry and elves were simply not equal to humans no matter what they did.

It was a reality that Leliana hypocritically ignored. For her, it was better to believe that the Chantry was an all-encompassing force of good as she was taught to believe.

Finally, Leliana researched the alienage and his parentage. Samael's parentage was unremarkable but he had been known to show some skill in battle at a young age which was… odd.

It was rather perturbing to discover that before even becoming a Grey Warden, he and another elf were able to take down an entire squad of guards within the estate of the son of the former Arl of Denerim. How could one young man have gained so much skill? The Alienage certainly didn't encourage weapons training so this had obviously been done in secret… she discovered that his parents, while scouts in a platoon of the army during the revolution against Orleasion occupation, hadn't kept up with their training… except his mother was warned about training with weaponry she had apparently stolen a few years before her death... This had prompted Samael to keep to his training and distanced him from the rest of the alienage. He had grown distant and bitter over his mother's death. She found the accounts of the guards during his mother's apparent one-man rebellion didn't match and discovered the real accounts for what happened to be far more disturbing. With the help of his cousin, Shianni, who sent her written testimony of what happened, she discovered what truly took place and was even more frightened that this man had become so powerful in both literal and political form.

Leliana did a double-take when she re-read the information about the boy's mother. She had been kidnapped by… Commander Harwin Raleigh, a man killed by unknown assassins that had also freed his enslaved victims.

Adaia Tabris…

Leliana reclined into her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose.

This was the worst thing that could have happened….

Leliana felt like laughing at the horrifying irony of it all.

SHE had been the unwitting assassin that had saved Adaia Tabris from her would-be ill-fated death by the hands of that corrupt bastard. She had saved that elf… that elf, Leliana vaguely recalled, had said something about teaching her child to respect humans…

That elf had taken measures to defend herself just in case of that happening again, had passed on the training to her son, and in the end? She had been killed in the worst of ways right in front of her child and that son had become one of the worst forces to have ever threatened the power of the organization Leliana had dedicated her life to.

Leliana didn't need to dig much to find out that Samael had been fucking an apostate mage who was supposedly the daughter of a goddamn myth that the Chantry really hoped didn't have any bearing of truth.

Maker, this was truly a migraine. Leliana had her own future to consider now. If she revealed to the Divine that she had unknowingly been a part of this during her days as an Orlesian assassin for hire?

She would encourage the Divine to go with the plan of encouraging the story of Samael having a Circle magi and a chantry bard along his quest to defeat the Archdemon. That way it would gain less political upheaval against the Circle of Magi and more followers to the faith. A small white lie didn't hurt others, it only encouraged the masses to follow blindly after all. The Chant of Light was the only truth that needed to be followed.

Most importantly, no one would know of her 'small' involvement in all of this or its far-reaching consequences.

Adaia Tabris hummed softly to herself as she finished cooking her meal. She took pieces of food and slowly divided the portions among the chiseled – yet still useful – plates so her family could eat.

She was grateful, eternally grateful, to the Maker for sparing her life from that dreadful Commander's clutches. Thanks to that Red-haired assassin, she had escaped freely and was able to make it back home safely. Her husband and son rejoiced at having such a miracle happen. Both Cyrion and Adaia prayed to the Maker everyday in gratitude. Samael prayed too… though it was rather awkward. Cyrion and Adaia had tried to instill the boy with a strong sense of faith but he still wasn't old enough to grasp the concept of a God yet. He would ask why he was being punished with waiting to hear from some voice. They had tried to teach the boy through reading the Chant of Light but Samael simply showed no interest in such things.

The boy liked playing with his cousin – more like sister – Shianni and his slightly younger cousin Soris outside during the summer days. And honestly, why let the boy be cooped-up reading an old book? He would grow more appreciative of it during the times of the coldness seasons so that he would have something to do.

It was a simple, happy existence. It was beautiful and perfect in Adaia's eyes. Nothing could make her happier. This was why she had begun to train all three of those cute little rugrats so that they would defend themselves from any oncoming danger. The Hahren Velandrian rose objections, along with many of the other fellow brethren, said she was just looking to get into more trouble then what she had got into before. That the humans would take it the wrong way. Yet Adaia knew from personal experience that the humans would try to do whatever they wished upon the elves of the Alienage anyway. She had first-hand experience. As such, as a mother and a concerned citizen, she felt it was her duty to teach the young ones anything that may help if or when the time came for them to defend themselves.

After reviewing their builds and seeing how they handled the make-shift wooden weapons she had given them, she had concluded that Soris and Shianni were more fitted for the lithe form of fighting. Samael, however, had been more of an anomaly. Her son was proficient with duel-wielding a large sword and a knife but didn't seem to like two knives or the rapid movements common with Rogues. He was more of a strong and fast warrior. He couldn't balance two wooden swords when doing combat moves, of course, considering his young thirteen-year-old frame but he had potential. Shianni and Soris were both much more adept at fighting and showed more promise. Adaia made sure to keep her bias in check when reviewing all three of them. Samael wasn't the fastest among them, nor was he the strongest (as Soris was proving to hit harder despite only using short wooden knives), and he wasn't the brightest among the three. That had always been Shianni. Soris always followed Samael around and tried to follow the activities of Shianni and his. Once Soris broke out of that, he would no doubt be a strong Rogue someday.

Adaia herself was little more than the average Rogue herself. Sure, she had been part of the great revolution that gave Fereldan its sovereignty but she and Cyrion had never been anything more than part of a small reconnaissance band. She wasn't all that strong. She never knew what in blazes Duncan had seen in her that made her believe that she had potential to be anything more than a typical rogue-styled fighter. She would have joined, to be part of something greater than herself, to do some good in the world, but the idea of settling down and starting a family had been much more appealing to her especially after all the elves had to endure during and after the emancipation from foreign rule.

The Hahren had quashed Duncan and her opportunities anyway. The weasel that the man was. Yet, in this instance, she actually had appreciated the effort. Cyrion was a good man and she felt… content with her marriage. She had feelings of friendship for the man and that was enough. Samael had been the real boon of the entire marriage. She loved her son as did Cyrion and they felt dutiful to each other after their child's birth.

The kidnapping had been dreadful. Her emergence back into the Alienage had brought the jovial mood back. Cyrion, to her dismay, didn't approve of teaching the children how to fight due to his own fear of losing her again. She was part of the stability in his life and while there wasn't really much of what one would consider romantic love, they still did care for one another. Cyrion said no good could come of her teaching them and that her foolishness would get her into more trouble. But honestly? She didn't care. She knew what she was doing would be a good deed somewhere along all three of their futures. At some point in their lives, they would be thankful. She loved all three of them, she would be ashamed if they were hurt or worse and she could have done something to better handle such dire situations. They were still young, of course, and hopefully that sort of burden would come to them later. There was, unfortunately, no avoiding reality. Elves were third-rate citizens in Denerim, always have been and always would be. This was despite their efforts all throughout Thedas in multitudes of accomplishments including Maric's ascension in reclaiming his birth-right. Thus, it was better for them to be prepared for reality.

If only reality could have waited until they had matured…

The sunlight was beginning to set on the typical summer evening in Denerim. It had been your average day. Kids playing outside, cooking for them, getting them to clean their rooms, and explaining the finer points of defending themselves – like always.

Then reality set in. The timeless happy days evaporated.

Adaia was cooking outside for once. It was a quaint pastime she had made so as to bring more people around to share her meals with and speak to her fellow impoverished brethren. On this occasion, however, it was only herself and her three little stooges. It was a nice and boastful evening meal. The four spent time discussing their training excitedly and speaking of Denerim gossip.

"Oi knife-ears!" yelled a guard, presumably the leader as he and three other guards behind him came to stop in front of her, right outside her home. The entire town crowded around to find out what was going on. "There's been rumors here of you training your little maggots for a rebellion."

"What? That's absurd!" shouted Adaia, cautiously she looked back at her children to find them all backing away before turning to face the guards again. "Please! This is all a misunderstanding… perhaps if I could just-"

"Shut up, bitch!" he roughly punched her in the face. She fell down head first and hit her was a bit dizzy after the fall. "Listen here, wench! We don't need to fuckin' listen to yah!"

"Please I..!" he came upon her then, he started to swiftly kick her repeatedly. Adaia pitifully tried shielding herself with her arms.

It became obvious to her that they were merely here as a pretense. For whatever reason, they had come here to give in to their bearer nature and inflict pain on the alienage, in this specific instance her, for fun. This wasn't that uncommon of an occurance though usually kidnapping was resorted to so that whomever was inflicting the pain wouldn't lose face among the public eye once rumors circulated.

"Someone! Anyone!" shouted both Samael and Shainni as Soris was shaking from fear. "HELP!"

More elves came to see the event. Including the Hahren Valendrian and Cyrion. No one stepped in to help her. They all had their faces bowed.

Samael turned to his father and the Hahren.

"Dad! Hahren! Please you have to do something!"

The stood silently and looked away from Samael in shame. Samael gazed at them incredulously. Why weren't they helping her! This was his mother! Didn't they care?

He was grabbed by the collar roughly as was Shianni. The guard punched him square in the chest. He cried out in pain. The other guard started ripping Shianni's clothes off. Soris just gazed on as his body shook in horror before he started running away into the crowd of elves.

"N-no! Wait! Please don't touch them!" Adaia cried. The rest of the elves silently looked down as this went on. They didn't raise a finger to help bowed their heads in shame.

The guard kicking her looked at the one who grabbed Shianni.

"Oi! None of that!" he bellowed harshly, the other guard stopped what he was doing confused at why he was being yelled at by his boss. "We ain't touchin' the little ones. That's just sick. Besides, this dame here'll do anything for her kids so we just take turns on her, yah?"

They proceeded to take turns raping Adaia after that. Adaia screamed and hollered for them to stop as Shianni, Samael, and the crowd of elves watched in horror. Samael would try to wiggle his way out so that he could get to his mother or cry for someone to help but he would only get punched by the guards as a reward. Shianni had initially screamed for someone to help her but in the end just sobbed quietly as she tried to block out Adaia's screams. The rest of the Alienage watched, an air of defeat hung over them all. What could they do? If they intervened, it would only lead to more trouble. Better to just hope for the best. What if the guards chose to attack them next? Or their families? Better to just let it be. To just ignore it. To just watch and pray for a better tomorrow.

Not wanting any evidence to remain the guards would make sure their deed couldn't be reported. Samael and Shianni were thrown harshly to the wall of Samael's house and they both fell with a thud. Samael tried to get up and help his mother… and witnessed the guards burn her alive. This way no evidence remained. Shianni was fortunate enough to be knocked unconscious by the throw. Samael cried as he witnessed his mother's dying screams of pain.

He laid in his bed for… who knew how long? A week? A month? Perhaps even a year had gone by. He didn't care to know. His mother was gone forever… taken from him by those fucking humans! Those fuckers were gonna PAY! WHY! Why had it been HIS mother? Why not someone, anyone, else's? What the fuck had his mother done to deserve such a thing! WHY HADN'T ANYONE HELPED HER?

His mind had been in turmoil ever since. He hadn't bothered to acknowledge Soris or even Shianni even though he knew that she was hurting just as much. He hadn't left from his bed except to go to the bathroom. He hadn't even bothered to eat. He didn't want to eat unless it was his mother's cooking…

Why was life so cruel to him? Why did his mother have to die?

"Samael…" spoke his father… no, no, he would no longer acknowledge this piece of shit coward as that. "Son… I've brought the Hahren to come speak to you about… about what happened…"

Samael didn't turn around from his position on the bed. He didn't give a shit what another coward had to say.

"Samael, that's enough!" snapped Cyrion, his son had been like this for too long. It wasn't good for him. "You WILL respect the Hahren's presence! He is your elder and the wisest among us!"

Old traditions sounded hollow to Samael's ears now. Nevertheless, he respected the demanding voice's wishes and turned to face them. He didn't bother with the customary pleasantries required toward the Hahren. He didn't bother. Instead he faced them with an accusatory gaze. The Hahren knew what was going to be said.

"Why?" Samael practically shouted. He glared at both of them in contempt. "Why didn't you save her? Why didn't you… TELL ME WHY?"

He was angry and he was damn well gonna show it. Why the hell hadn't they saved her? The whole village had watched her get raped and burned to death!

Cyrion was about to yell at him for his disrespect again, anger at the events overbearing his good judgement, when the Hahren took over.

"Listen well, child." Spoke the Hahren sagely, making Samael and Cyrion focus their attention on him. "What happened to your mother was tragic… but inevitable. She was set on training you and your cousins with weapons and we all knew it would only lead to a tragedy. Your father and I asked – begged – her to stop but she wouldn't listen to reason."

"It was her own stubbornness and disregard for the rules that got her killed."

That eloquent answer made Samael's blood boil. What the fuck was this shit? His MOTHER was at fault for being raped and burned?

"Y-YOU!" shouted Samael, in primal rage. "YOU ALL COULD'VE STOPPED THEM IF YOU HAD TRIED TO-!"

SMACK

Cyrion gazed at the tearful Samael sadly. His angry visage slowly melting to sorrow. The boy was young and inexperienced. He would understand the laws of the Alienage someday.

"No, we could not have." responded Valendrian calmly, "What good would it have done? It would've led to more bloodshed and violence. It is better to think of the many. We cannot risk the humans threatening the entire alienage. With their superior numbers, weapons, and military tactics, we would be done for. This very alienage is designed in a specific manner to make sure troops can quickly dispatch us if we so much as rebel against them."

"It is an unfortunate tragedy, make no mistake, we all grieve for Adaia's loss but we must protect the peace we have now as best as we can."

"PEACE?" bellowed Samael, hate spewing from his voice. "You call this PEACE? This is… ARGH! This stupid, it's fucking dumb, it's – it's… SLAVERY! You could've stopped it. You all could have stopped it! You guys didn't even try! You – all of you – you all just watched it! You didn't help her. The humans wouldn't have gone that far had you done something!"

The Hahren was beginning to get annoyed.

"Quell your anger, Samael." Spoke the Hahren, a touch of annoyance creeping into his voice. "It is not our fellow elves you should be angry at, it is the humans who-"

"THE HUMANS WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO ANYTHING IF YOU ALL WEREN'T A BUNCH OF SPINELESS COWARDS!"

Two resounding smacks, from both Cyrion and the Hahren, followed soon after.

Samael was silent from then on. He refused to acknowledge or speak to either of them no matter how much they tried to goad, shout, or smack him into it. They left to discuss his future punishments. Samael needed to quell his anger or else the humans may do something like that again and the best way to get a boy to listen was to punish them harshly for their misbehavior.

Samael knew the truth, he knew that the humans wouldn't have been able to do half the shit they did had the elves grown a spine and stood up for themselves. They hadn't even tried. He decided then that he wouldn't follow the Alienages guidelines, he wouldn't follow their teachings, or believe in the Maker, or any of the things they did. They were worthless shit. They just bowed down, dropped their trousers, and took it up the ass with no complaints. He was smart enough to know that not all humans were bad… but alienages existed all over the world. All elves were worthless scum.

He carried on his mother's training in secret. Shianni did as well. Soris, after shaking away the initial fear of breaking rules due to what happened to Samael's mother, only did so because it was something fun to do.

Shianni eventually gained enough courage to speak to Samael about Adaia's death one day, a few months after the tragedy. After coming to terms with it herself. Before that, they had ignored the topic when with each other. The event they both didn't want to broach was constantly hanging over them.

"Samael" Shianni interrupted, gaining his attention. She looked at him sorrowfully. He was out weeding, cooking, or doing all the chores in the blistering heat ever since that 'talk' with his father and Valendrian. The Hahren and Cyrion constantly punished Samael for his angry outbursts or curses he threw. Samael had eventually learned to keep his mouth shut… but that didn't mean his resentment had disappeared as Valendrian, Cyrion, and even the rest of the elves foolishly assumed. "I… I wanted to speak to.. to you about… about…"

She looked down on the ground. She was unable to finish what she wanted to say.

"Then talk." He replied stiffly, not wanting to speak of the topic but letting her get her feelings out. He continued trimming the outside weeds near his house. "I've got nothing to say about it."

Shianni looked back up at him. Giving herself a more clear view. The blistering heat was burning the poor kid's skin yet Cyrion still demanded he continue with his punishment for his insolence and disrespect.

"Listen.. I… I know that you're angry… I'm angry too." Replied Shianni, letting her feelings out. "The humans… they-"

Samael cut her off right then and there. A habit he would keep with him for the rest of his natural life.

"The humans aren't entirely to blame. There are good and bad humans. Accusing all of them of what four crazed guardsmen did isn't right."

"That may be… but…"

Shianni didn't really know what to say to that. Wasn't he angry at the humans? Didn't he hate them for what happened to his mother? Didn't he want revenge like she did? All humans were capable of such atrocities and they treated the elves like dirt, after all.

"It's the elves that are really at fault."

"Wh-what!" shouted Shianni in surprise. What was Samael talking about? The elves hadn't done anything! It had been the humans who-

"Think about it." said Samael, cutting off her train of thought as he angrily threw the hedge clippers at the wall, leaving a rather ugly mark, before turning to face her eye-to-eye. "Yes, the humans who did that are sick scumbags. But when I cried for help, for anyone to help her, what did everyone in this place besides us try to do?"

"I… well…"

"The humans wouldn't have gone as far as they did had someone stood up and done something! Not even my father stopped them! He just watched as mother was raped by all four of those sickos! None of them… not even your parents tried to stop them when they started tearing your clothes off!"

Shianni started shaking her head in denial. She didn't want to listen to what Samael had to say. He was talking nonsense! The humans were at fault for everything! The Alienage hadn't done anything wrong!

"Yeah, humans – some humans – are fucking evil. But these people we live with? They're fucking retarded! They would let the humans get away with anything! If they had just stopped what happened then mom would still be alive and we wouldn't have been in any danger!"

"B-but.. NO! That… that would've just caused those humans to get angrier and send an army to kill us!"

"SO WHAT! Why the fuck does that matter? Which is better? Watching people you care about suffer or to die fighting for what should be a right! We all have the right to be free and happy. If someone takes it, we should fight for it! These people… they don't even try! Elves are nothing but cowards and uncaring monsters! They DON'T care! They make all these religious speeches and sermons about 'family' we've lost but that's BULLSHIT! We wouldn't have lost them had they simply stood up to our oppressors. They just pretend to care! They don't really try to stop the bad things that happen to one of us! They're the real monsters!"

SLAP

Shianni quickly ran away as Samael touched the stinging part of his cheek. From then on a rift would grow between them. Destroying the love they once shared for each other forever. Shianni would grow to hate and love Samael for who he was and had learned to hate humans after Adaia's death. She had never thought the punishments Cyrion and Valendrian dished out was fair to Samael but wouldn't agree with Samael's philosophy that elves were worthless. Samael would always hate every elf from then on. He would stop hating himself once he had become a Grey Warden and was allowed to carve out his own path in life after Duncan's death. Elves, however, he would never acknowledge as anything more than crap on the underfoot of his shoes due to their lack of respect for themselves.

And when Samael had finally been unleashed, the world had truly felt his wrath.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't follow me?"

"Things have changed."

"Indeed, they have, I took care of what you were suppose to. You've proven to be quite incapable of doing anything but spread your seed around."

"Those were just spur of the moment, they mean nothing to me like you do. Besides, were you not the one who-"

"Let this not be an argument of who did what! I do not care for such chatter! You… you… argh! Why have you come here?"

"I came to help you. I've trained myself to be capable of withstanding even the strongest of magicks… but mostly for you. I can't live without you in my life. I realize that now. You're quite intoxicating."

"…"

"Let me be of use. Let me help you. I've made sure that I won't be a burden."

"…Very well. If it is as you say… then show me."

"As you wish."

"My, my, to have persisted so much…" spoke Flemeth, looking at the figure below her. "You've done quite a lot of damage, little elf."

"You're the last one… the real one..." gasped Merrill, exhausted from the skirmish she just endured. Matching Flemeth blow for blow was no easy task. "I… I managed to destroy all of them… all of your faux bodies... all by myself!"

"I swear on Hawke's grave that I'll make you pay!"

"Indeed, you've done quite an extensive amount of damage. I am almost killable now." Nodded Flemeth, acknowledging the young elf's perseverance. "But it was not I who killed your beloved Hawke. I wouldn't dream of murdering my own chosen. It was my daughter's-"

Merill cut her off mid-sentence.

"Hawke didn't want to live in a world where you used us as playthings. Despite his choice, I've respected his wishes and I WILL kill you to make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain! You won't make a fool of me with your manipulative words!"

She gathered her mana and threw the most powerful ball of ice she could muster at Flemeth. Fire attacks had little effect as Flemeth was virtually impervious to them. Flemeth snorted and struck the ball of ice with a powerful arcane spell with just the flick of her finger. The ice ball burst into millions of shards of ice… and came straight for Flemeth. Flemeth simply stared dully. This attack wouldn't-

Her train of thought stopped as those ice shards began to cut her deeply wherever they struck true. Flemeth stared in morbid fascination at her own blood before glaring at Merrill. Merrill, though nearly spent in reserves, kept channeling mana through blood magic. Even her blood usage was being overcompensated. She truly would drain herself dry if she tried any more of those attacks.

"You… can hurt me? You are capable of such a feat all on your own?" said Flemeth, staring at Merrill in true shock. A mortal had gained such power without the use of any special blood or extraneous powers like Samael and Morrigan? This elf had carved a path all on her own and done what no mortal, by themselves, should be capable of achieving.

What this mortal had just done was prove that she could kill an Archdemon, perhaps even two, if given enough preparation and at full strength….

This couldn't be allowed to exist. It posed too much of a threat to her. Her faux bodies, while powerful, were limited to mortal standards. A mortal being with such an immense power that rivaled a god's without her interference in some way? It would not be allowed.

She began to play her tune and transformed into her true self from beyond the Fade. She turned into a magnificent beast that she truly was. It was a swift change. Merrill had no time to react as the mighty dragon swooped it's neck right above her and bit her head off.

Flemeth spat the head out of her maws and watched, eyes gleaming in laughter, as the body fell with a faint thud on the forest floor. She became distracted, however, as her attention turned to the oncoming visitor in the sky.

The purple giant watched as a black dragon only a few statures shorter than her form, swooped down rapidly, even faster than she could, and noticed something on the dragon's back.

Flemeth got ready for the battle that was upon her. Even in her weakened form, she would be a challenging opponent to kill. Her newly found weakness only made her a more dangerous animal.

"The time has come for you to die, mother!" yelled Morrigan, on the back of the black dragon. "Here and now, you shall perish and a new goddess shall reign over the world!"

The ultimate power play commenced.