The night of the eighth of Kingsway in Zann's eighteenth year, she sneaks out of her room and knocks on the door of Metella's quarters. And knocks again. And keeps knocking until the door is opened.
"Fine." The door swings open. Jahenna is belligerently naked. "I invoke the Right of Conscription on this little shit, on the assumption that Metella isn't just fucking with me for the sake of fucking with me." She turns her head from side to side and shouts at top volume. "LET IT BE KNOWN THAT THIS BRAT IS NOW A RECRUIT OF THE GREY WARDENS. NOW FUCK OFF."
The door slams. There is a bedlike thump from within.
"I wasn't expecting her to be quite this unsociable," Metella murmurs. She puts the ward back on the door. "I don't think I'd better let you out of my sight until the Grey Warden is properly awake."
"I'm sure you are validly conscripted. I'm less sure that the Templars will believe you're validly conscripted if they come for you before Jahenna wakes up and I'm not there to politely explain."
"Who do you want there to politely explain your conscription to the templars, other mages or me?"
"I'm not objecting to you being my protectoress, Metella. That'd be silly."
Halfway through breakfast, Jahenna descends blearily from the upper floors. She grabs a nearby elf and growls a demand for boiling water. (The elf diplomatically does not clarify that he's actually a member of the administrative staff, and instead quietly relays the demand to a more appropriate elf.)
"'Lo," she grumbles to Metella and Zann.
"Good morning," says Metella. "This is Zann, your new recruit. Zann, this is Jahenna."
"Hi! I just wanted to say that I so admire the work you do, and I look forward to working with you!" Zann thrusts out a hand to shake.
"I think you're either going to get along pretty well, or very, very badly," Metella predicts.
"I think this might be lack of tea," hazards Zanna as the serving elf shows up with boiling water and a teabag.
She turns to the elf. "You're just some serving elf. I specifically asked that fucker Sinthari to bring me the water. Tell him I told him to go fuck himself, and that his mother should have drowned him in a river when he was born."
The elf flees. Jahenna nods, then turns back to her companions. "What were you saying? I no longer hate you. Or at least I no longer hate the one that I've confirmed isn't shit, I don't know you."
Metella patiently indicates Zann. "You conscripted her this morning. Congratulations."
A man stands in her path! Actually, several men. Greagoir and Irving are first among them.
"Warden, stand aside. We are here to execute that girl for blood magic."
Jahenna blinks. "Nnnnno, I don't think so."