Sulevin'din Shiral, Part 1
Title: Sulevin'din Shiral
Author: valiasedai
Artist: hemisphere
Beta: Rob, xogs
Canon: Dragon Age: Origins
Ratings: M
Warnings: Violence, sexual content
Summary: Forced from her clan, Elin Mahariel clings to the one thing left to her: duty. But as she struggles to lead amidst the impending Blight, she finds that a Grey Warden's duty is not as simple as she supposed.
Author's/Artist's note A huge thanks to my betas for constructive feedback, to the DA Wiki Elven Language Page for an incredible article on what is known from the little in-game Elvish, to sagacious_rage for letting me sign up so late, and finally, a massive thank you to my artist, hemi, who has been communicative and fantastic through the whole process.
Due to length restrictions, the post has been cut into three parts. Part 2. Part 3.
(Click through for fullsize)
Prologue: Da'len
Amaril ducked beneath a branch and clutched at her still-distended belly. Her body was still weak and sore from the birth, but she was certain she had heard Nahel calling to her in the forest.
Sweat dripped from her brow as she stumbled through the moon-dappled grass. Nahel could not be dead, not by the hand of shemlen and flat-ears, not with his command over magic. He was out there, waiting for her.
Amaril pressed deeper into the tall, dark pines. She would find him and bring him back. They would be together at last.
*****
Ashalle hushed the babe in her arms as Marethari approached.
The Keeper's eyes were tired, and her mouth was drawn tight. "Amaril has been found."
Relief welled in Ashalle. The birth had taken almost two full days, and Amaril had been lost to fever dreams shortly after the babe slipped from her body. "Mythal bless us, is she all right?"
Marethari licked her lips and shook her head once. "Hahren Paivel says he will be ready to sing her to rest in the morning."
The breath went out of Ashalle. In the days before the birth pains began, Amaril had begun to smile and laugh again. Ashalle had been certain the child would renew Amaril's hope. "And what of her daughter?"
There were a few moments of silence before Marethari reached out to touch the babe's forehead. "The girl belongs to our clan. I will find someone who wishes to care for her."
The child's earlier discontent had faded into a drowsy sleep. Ashalle pressed her lips to the girl's downy-soft hair and inhaled the soft scent with a dreamy sigh. In all the many years she had been with Vanil, she had borne him no children. Ashalle had been bitter at first, but time had softened it into resignation. The tiny bundle in her arms sparked a hope she had thought long dead. "Vanil and I can care for her. He always wanted a daughter."
Marethari's eyes ran over Ashalle's face, flat and unreadable, and Ashalle clung to the babe, praying the Creators would grant her this one wish. "You cannot claim her as your daughter, but you may care for her if you wish. The clan will assist whenever you need. The responsibility lies with all of us."
"Thank you, Keeper." Ashalle hugged the girl close and smiled as Marethari turned away. The infant nuzzled at Ashalle's breast and made a soft huffing noise. "Elin." The girl lazily opened her eyes at Ashalle and went cross-eyed as she tried to focus. The child was beautiful and perfect; the child was hers.
*****
"Elin! Where have you been?" Ashalle sighed heavily and gave Elin a stern look.
Elin held up one hand and tried to keep the excitement from her face. "Look!" The rabbit had been tricky to catch, but in the end she had gotten the trap right. Warm, sticky blood ran down her arm, but Elin did not mind. It made her feel like a real hunter.
"Oh da'len, I didn't know you were out trapping." Ashalle took the rabbit and drew her belt knife. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to surprise you." Elin's shoulders slumped a little when Ashalle sighed. She never meant to worry Ashalle. "And I didn't know if I would catch anything."
Ashalle leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Elin's head. "Thank you for the rabbit, da'len. Just tell me next time you'll be gone so long. Vanil was ready to send the hunters after you." Ashalle flipped the rabbit on its back and slid the knife down the belly. "Now, go tell him you returned safely. And then wash up so you can help with dinner." Ashalle gutted the rabbit in a few casual, easy gestures as she spoke.
Elin nodded absently as she watched the deliberate movements of Ashalle's knife. The skin separated cleanly from shiny grey sinew and deep red muscle under the precise strokes of Ashalle's blade. Elin's fingers twitched as she tried to commit the movements to memory. "Can you teach me to do that?"
Ashalle's smooth movements stopped. "Go tell Vanil quickly, and I'll wait."
Elin grinned. "Ma serannas. I'll hurry!" She bounded out the door, imagining her legs as swift and strong as a halla.
*****
Merrill stared into the fire, knees drawn to her chest. Her new Keeper was so serious, and there was so much to learn. Merrill was certain she would never remember it all. She felt so small and alone here, and even the forest was strange to her. Marethari's clan was nice, but no one spoke with her much, and she was beginning to feel invisible.
A happy giggle was the only warning Merrill had before a girl tumbled into her. The impact sent Merrill's head spinning.
"Abelas! Did I hurt you?" The girl looked down at Merrill, all green eyes and wild blonde hair.
"I'm okay." Merrill felt her cheeks heat as she sat up. She never knew what to say around the new clan, and she so scared of bothering them.
"I'm Elin." The girl smiled and plucked a twig out of Merrill's hair. "Can you play?"
Merrill blinked a few times. "Play? I think so, but I can't go far. Marethari says to say close if she needs me."
Elin stuck out her hand and pulled Merrill to her feet. "We can stay in the camp, then. Master Ilen always has little wooden halla to play with. Come on!" Elin scampered off so suddenly that Merrill nearly tripped trying to keep up.
That night, Merrill crawled into bed with her fingers curled around a tiny wooden halla, and smiled as she drifted off to sleep. She had a friend.
*****
Moon-shadows hid many things. The deer knew this, but it did not know how. The air was still and carried no scent of predator. Night-birds broke the silence with calls that held no note of urgency of alarm.
Sweet young grass had been pushing its way through the spring-warm soil, and the deer lowered its head to graze. The fresh, crunching greenness of the grass was a joy after a hard winter of bark and twig-tips. The wind shifted and tickled the deer's nose.
Two-leg.
The thought was an image more than a word, but two-leg meant death. The deer tensed to leap.
Its knee gave way just before it felt the pain and the hot trickle of blood that spilled to the ground. Only then did it realize the night birds had gone quiet. The deer's heartbeat and the sound of two running feet were all the deer could hear. Another jolt of pain and it struggled and collapsed again. Its heartbeat was wild, and breath was lost to it.
Strange paws grasped under its chin and something sharp cut into its neck, drawing the blood out like a stream. The deer blinked at the two-leg that held it and struggled one last time before it died.
*****
Tamlen strode into the clearing and put his hands on his hips. "Lucky shot?"
Elin glanced up at him, calm and cool-eyed as she worked the knots of the make-shift sled. "Where's your deer?"
He felt his cheeks go hot as he squatted near the carcass. He had let his footsteps grow careless, and his deer had run. "I let it get away."
She cocked her head to the side and the corners of her mouth nearly twitched into a smile. "Did you, now?"
Tamlen stuck his tongue out at Elin and was rewarded with a laugh. "We should go. It's nearly dawn."
"Help me carry it back to camp, and I'll share." Elin's eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Of course, lethallan." He knew she would share regardless of his help, but he was happy to give it. They would do much more than carry prey for each other. It was the way of the Dalish, and of friends.
*****
Chapter 1: Sulevin'din Shiral
The shemlen's eyes were huge, and none was armed with more than a belt knife. One had lost control of his bladder, and Elin wrinkled her nose at the sharp smell of urine. The men were no threat.
She relaxed her bow and nodded to Tamlen."Let them go, lethallin. Their only crime is stupidity."
Forest birds chirped and called while the shemlen mumbled quiet prayers to their Maker, and Tamlen held his bowstring taut. Finally, wood creaked and Tamlen jerked his head sharply. "Go, then, before I change my mind."
One of the shemlen began to cry. "Oh, thank you ser. You're so kind, I -"
"Go!" Tamlen started towards the men and one of them gave a low, wavering moan as he turned to flee.
When the shemlen had disappeared from sight, Tamlen turned to her, eyes hard. "They'll just bring more."
Elin returned his gaze with a hard frown. "And if we had killed them and others had found out?"
His stare faltered and he raised a hand to his face. "Shemlen took everything from us."
Elin stepped forward and touched Tamlen's arm. "Hamin, Tamlen.Not those shemlen. Elvhen nan din'reth. We should tell the Keeper." For once, the thought of a move did not bother Elin. The forest here was thick and wild, and while game was plentiful, the wolves and bears were the most dangerous and aggressive in her memory. It was not safe to linger along at the edges of camp once the sun had set.
"The shemlen mentioned a cave."
Elin studied Tamlen. He had that look that meant they were going to do something very impressive or very stupid. She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, they did."
Tamlen went wide-eyed and innocent-looking. "Don't look at me like that, you're too serious. What if there's something useful or valuable? We should go look."
"And if I say we should get the Keeper?"
"Then I say you have no sense of adventure." Tamlen grinned. "Come on, we'll look quickly."
Elin let out a deep breath and nodded. "All right, but - Hey! Wait!" Tamlen bounded ahead of her, laughing. She raced after him, unable to stop the smile that spread over her face.
*****
Elin bolted upright, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. The dreams of caves and dead that walked had felt so real. She shivered and rubbed at her arms.
She ran shaking fingers through her hair and tried to steady her breath. It was just a nightmare. It had to be. Nothing like that could be real.
A sudden tap on the door of the aravel made her jump. "Elin? Are you awake, lethallan?"
Elin's pulse fluttered and she tried to catch her breath. "Merrill? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on you." The door opened and sunlight spilled into the aravel. Merrill clambered in, brow furrowed with worry. "You've been so sick Marethari thought she was going to lose you." Merrill pressed cool fingers to Elin's forehead. "You're still a bit warm, but it's nothing like it was." Merrill wrapped her in a tight hug and rocked back and forth. "Oh, I'm so glad! Everyone has been waiting for you to wake."
Elin shook her head and grasped at memories that seemed to slip through her fingers. "What happened? How long have I been asleep?"
Her mind was racing. There had been frightened shemlen, and a cave with a strange, twisted mirror. Everything beyond that was a confused haze of voices and blurred images. "Where's Tamlen?"
Merrill pulled away away and toyed with a metal ring on her robes. "A shemlen, one of the dorf'mi, found you and brought you here. You were so sick and feverish; Marethari thought you wouldn't make it. I was up with her, trying to heal you, but I'm not very good, and worse," Merrill glanced back to Elin, her green eyes wet, "we don't know where Tamlen is. We hoped you knew."
Elin shook her head in disbelief. "We were in a cave. I know where it is." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I need to tell the Keeper. We have to go back." She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs didn't want to stand, and the ground seemed to ripple beneath her.
Merrill managed to catch her before she fell. "I'll tell the Keeper you're up once I get you something to eat. Just… stay here and don't get in trouble. Promise me?" Her friend's voice was all but pleading.
Elin nodded absently. "Promise."
The door clattered behind Merrill and Elin was alone again. Her breaths grew shallow and sharp, and panic clawed its way up her throat. Tamlen could be hurt and alone, and the ruins were dangerous.
He could be dead.
The thought made her breath hitch, and she looked to the ceiling as tears ran down her face. Creators save him.
*****
"No, don't destroy it! We could learn so much. There's so little of our history left, please." Merrill ached to examine the mirror, to touch it, to study it. She could feel the power the mirror held, and it called to her. Something about it made her blood hum, like it knew she was Dalish.
The Grey Warden shook his head and blocked her path to the mirror. "It is tainted. If it stays whole it will continue to draw darkspawn and infect any who get too close. Your friend is still sick, and another of your clanmates has gone missing." His voice was calm, almost soothing, but his sword was already drawn.
Merrill looked to Elin for support, but her friend's face was pale and a thin sheet of sweat covered her forehead. Merrill's hands balled up in frustration. "Please, no!"
The Grey Warden shook his head. "I am sorry."
He lifted his sword and swung at the mirror. The shatter was deafening and dozens of pieces scattered across the floor. Merrill slumped as she felt the power waver and burst. An invaluable key to the past, gone.
"The darkspawn won't be drawn here any longer." The Grey Warden nodded towards the door. "Shall we go?"
"No." Elin's voice was low and hoarse. "No. We haven't found Tamlen. I'm not leaving until I find him."
Merrill nodded slowly. "We were sent to find him."
"Your friend is gone. He has been sick with no healing for days. I have seen no body, and the darkspawn could have -" the Grey Warden cleared his throat. "If there was something to find, it would be here."
Elin bristled. "You don't know that! He was a skilled hunter, a skilled fighter. He could protect himself."
The Grey Warden shifted and gave a short sigh. "And if he was unconscious like you have been? Is he so great a fighter that he can do so sick and asleep?"
Elin lunged toward the Grey Warden and Merrill held her breath.
The Grey Warden caught Elin's wrists easily. She struggled against him, and gave a weak kick at one of his shins. The man winced, but held his ground. Merrill looked between the two of them and drew on her magic, watching and waiting. She didn't know how to make it stop, but she knew it would be her fault if either was hurt.
"Let me go! I have to, I must, I -" Elin shook her head frantically. "Please."
The Grey Warden gently released Elin, and she sank to the ground with quiet sobs.
"Oh no, please don't cry." Merrill rushed to Elin's side. "Tamlen wouldn't want that." She cupped Elin's face in one hand and gently wiped away the tears. "And we have to tell the Keeper what we saw. You're one of the Elvhen, Elin. You can be strong, I know it."
Elin nodded against Merrill's palm and let out wavering sigh. "Abelas." Elin scrambled to her feet and clenched her jaw so tightly Merrill was certain her teeth would break. "I will try."
Merrill gave a half-hearted smile and patted Elin's arm. "There, it's all right to have tears now and then." The thought of the mirror was enough to make her weep, but Elin needed her now. Merrill would mourn that loss later. "Come along, we shouldn't keep Marethari waiting."
The walk back to camp was silent.
*****
"Keeper, please. Don't ask me to do this. I want to stay with the clan." Elin's eyes were wild, and her voice began to crack. "How can I help the clan if I am away?
Marethari shook her head and steeled herself for what must come. "I am sorry, da'len, but you must help us by joining the Grey Wardens. Fight with them and you protect us." No matter what the old treaties said, giving one of her own to the Wardens felt like cutting off a limb. It was only made worse by Tamlen's disappearance. "I can't let you die when the Wardens can save you."
Elin closed her eyes tightly and said nothing for a long time as tears streaked down her face.
"Da'len." Marethari touched Elin's arm. "You must do this."
Elin nodded stiffly, but it was easy to see the tremble in her lips. "If… if it is for the good of the clan, then I will go."
Duncan stepped forward and gave a short bow. "Then may I be the first to welcome you to the Grey Wardens, Elin. The few Dalish who have served in the order have served well. We have great respect for your people."
Marethari nodded, hoping Elin would find comfort in the words. Of all the shemlen to be with, Duncan was the one Marethari trusted. He had always been respectful of the clans. "You must leave us, but our blood will always be yours. May Mythal protect you, wherever you may walk. Dareth shiral."
"Ma nuvenin, Keeper." Elin's tone was flat against an angry expression, and her fists were clenched tightly at her sides..
The anger cut Marethari to the core. Even as a Grey Warden, most shemlen would see her as nothing more than an elf. The world that Elin must go to would not be kind, or safe, and Duncan could only shield her from so much.
It was such things that were a Keeper's burden, and she must keep her people alive, even if it meant losing them. The blood of the Elvhen was precious.
*****
Elin slid her knife between muscle and skin, cleanly parting one from the other. It was a task she had completed a thousand times, and the familiar movements allowed her a few moments of peace. She could nearly pretend she was back at camp, and that Tamlen and Merrill would be there when she looked up. She frowned. It was a foolish thought.
"Is something wrong?" Duncan's voice was calm and even.
Something about the question put her on edge. Duncan knew what was wrong, or he thought he did, but he could not understand. "No."
Duncan let out a long sigh. "I know you don't want to be here, but you are here. Sitting around sulking won't change anything, and it makes you a rather unpleasant travelling companion."
The words shamed her. The shemlen had been nothing but kind to her, and she had returned his kindness with quiet anger. He had done nothing wrong. "Abelas, Duncan. I have not been myself. Ma serranas. I am grateful you saved my life."
"You have been through much these past days. How are you?" His tone was sincere and worried, and the kindness made her ache for her clan.
Elin skillfully parted the last bit of skin from the rabbit and gently laid the pelt aside. "Sad." She did not know how to tell him that her breath hitched when she thought of Tamlen. She did not know how to tell him that tears threatened to overwhelm her when the air was still and quiet, because she expected Merrill's happy chatter to fill the silence. She did not know how to tell him that she was hurt and angry and lonely.
She did not know how to tell him these things, so she did not.
"And your sickness?" Duncan's brow furrowed and he half-closed his eyes. "I can still sense it, but you still seem strong."
She wiped her forehead with the back of a hand and scowled when she found it damp. "Still sick." With luck, he did not see the way her hands trembled after hours of walking, or notice that her breaths came harder with each day.
Duncan pushed the coals into a long, narrow line with a stick. "Many of the recruits leave everyone they know when they join. The Wardens become their friends, as well as their family." Duncan blew lightly on the coals and motioned towards the rabbit. "Give them a chance."
The thought was almost impossible. She had been told there was not another woman among them, much less an elf. But Duncan was reasonable, respectful. He fought well. He had saved her when he had no care for who she was. If the others were like him, maybe there was a chance. Maybe. "I will try."
His fingers were deft as he trussed the rabbit to a long, straight stick. "That's all I ask."
*****
Chapter 2: Him Dorf'mi
The sound of armored boots drew Duncan's attention to a shining, golden figure. He cringed involuntarily. Maker, why now? Elin had been less prickly, but she hardly knew what was expected around human royalty.
Cailan was all excited smiles and bright eyes as he approached. "Ho there, Duncan!"
"Your Majesty," Duncan bowed his head, "this is an honor."
"I'm glad you're back! And I see you've brought a new recruit. We heard you had found someone. I am King Cailan." The boy - Duncan could not help but think of Cailan in that way - grinned at Elin and held out his hand.
Elin rose one eyebrow quizzically at the gesture and took a slow step back. "I am Elin Mahariel, of the Sabrae clan. I am one of the Dalish and I am free." The words were delivered fiercely, and her eyes never left Cailan's outstretched palm.
Duncan nearly swallowed his tongue. She hadn't said so many words at once since they had left her clan. The sudden outburst was enough to make Duncan reconsider his lack of devotion. If the Maker did exist, this moment was punishment for Duncan's laxity.
"One of the Dalish!" Cailan brightened even more, blue eyes widening. "I have heard tales of your people's bravery. The Wardens must be pleased to have you."
The elf gave a slow nod, features still uncertain. "Yes."
Laughter burst from the king's lips. "You didn't tell me she had a sense of humor, Duncan! I must go before Loghain frowns at me again, but I should like to talk before the battle. There is much to discuss."
Cailan chattered amicably at his guards as they made the long walk back across the bridge.
Duncan let out a breath he didn't remember holding. It was over.
Elin shifted and cleared her throat loudly. "I am not funny."
"What?" Duncan looked to her and found her glowering at Cailan's retreating back.
"I am not funny." Elin pronounced each word in short, clipped syllables.
Duncan shook his head. "No, you're not. You'd have to actually talk to be funny."
Elin frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I talk."
There was nothing to do but sigh. "As you say. Come, there is much to prepare."
*****
"Maker's ass, woman, do you have to do that every time?" Daveth's voice was high pitched and strained as he wiped at his blood-covered face in vain.
Alistair tried not to smile. The elf had a knack for catching Daveth in a bloody spray whenever she slit a darkspawn's throat. Alistair had lost count at five.
Elin stared at Daveth impassively. "The opportunity came to kill, so I did."
The expression on Daveth's face grew furious and he loomed over the elf. "That doesn't explain why you keep getting me and not the others!"
"Alistair and Jory kill their quarry. You maim it." Elin shrugged calmly, as though she were talking to a page in training. "It needs to be dead."
"Why you smart-mouthed little - " Daveth moved to grab Elin's arm.
She stepped out of the way and had Daveth flat on his back before Alistair could blink. She firmly planted her knee at the base of Daveth's spine and twisted his hand back until the man yelped.
"All right, I yield!"
Elin lingered a moment longer than Alistair thought was absolutely necessary and left Daveth cringing and cradling his hand.
Alistair tried to stop the grin that tugged at his mouth as he helped Daveth to his feet. "It'll wash off. Eventually. Except where it stains."
Daveth muttered under his breath and turned to gather arrows from the darkspawn.
"You don't have to be so harsh on him, you know." Jory looked at Alistair with big, baleful eyes, and he was suddenly reminded of a cow.
"Nah, it's good for him." Alistair gave Jory a good-natured slap on the back. "And besides, she has a point."
*****
Daveth fell to his knees, fingernails clawing at his throat. Elin stared in horror as he collapsed and drew one last, rattling breath. The death was so sudden, so unexpected that Elin could only stare.
"Jory, you are next in the Joining." Duncan's voice was empty and emotionless. His dark eyes, which had been so warm and welcoming until this moment, held no mercy.
Steel rasped as Jory drew his sword. The man stumbled away from the outstretched cup until his back met the stone wall. "You can't do this. My wife is with child." The man's eyes were wide, and his voice wavered.
"There is no turning back, Jory." Duncan drew the dagger at his hip. "You cannot leave."
Fear gripped Elin the moment Jory swung. Duncan parried the blow easily and threw the other man off balance. There was a glimmer of steel before he sank his dagger deep into Jory's belly.
Jory gaped in disbelief over Duncan's shoulder, and his large eyes settled on Elin. She stood frozen in place, barely able to draw breath as her panic mounted
"I am sorry, Jory." Regret filled Duncan's words as he pushed Jory from his blade and the dead man fell to the stone with a loud thump.
Elin stared in horror as Duncan took the cup again and started toward her. "Elin, you are the last in the Joining." Duncan stalked towards her, cup outstretched "Submit yourself to the Taint."
The blood rushed in her ears and her heart pounded frantically in her chest. The cold night air made her skin prickle, and she felt alive.
But she felt more than that. She felt the haze of fever and the tremble in her limbs. She had come here to live.
Elin took the cup and drank.
*****
"Alistair, down!"
Battlefield instinct took over and Alistair dropped to one knee. There was a soft thuck and a genlock shrieked loudly around the arrow lodged in its throat.
A hurlock rushed Alistair, and he lunged at it as best as he could, shield arm braced. The impact jarred his shoulder, but the hurlock stumbled back. Another arrow whizzed past and pierced the creature's chest. The brief opening was all Alistair needed, and one swift blow slit the darkspawn from neck to navel.
He could still sense darkspawn in the Tower, and the horde on the battlefield made his stomach churn, but there was nothing nearby.
Elin slipped past him silently and placed a boot on one of the downed hurlocks.
Alistair smiled at her. "Thanks."
She tugged at the first arrow and it squelched as she pulled it free. Bits of darkspawn flesh clung to the arrowhead, and she wiped it clean on the creature's filthy tunic.
Alistair scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. "Right." Duncan had warned him she might be a little quieter than he was used to. "Shall we go?"
Elin grunted as she wrenched the other arrow and examined it with a frown. "Useless." She snapped the arrow in two and tossed the halves aside. "Lead on."
Alistair nodded towards the Tower. She followed him closely, footsteps silent against the stones. Duncan had not been entirely truthful. "A little quiet" implied she made some noise, but her movement gave Alistair the distinct impression he was being followed by a short, deadly ghost.
He bit back another sigh. At least she was on his side.
*****
The wind left Elin's lungs, and there was a sickening sound-sensation of cracking bone. The ogre's attention was fully on her, now. The mage they had collected was dead, and Elin's small stash of elf root was gone. She struggled to push herself to her feet, but the pain only sharpened until her vision edged black.
She gripped her daggers in blood-slick hands and drew pained breaths through clenched teeth. She had not come all this way to die without a fight.
The ogre suddenly stiffened and let out a deafening roar. The creature turned away from her, steps stumbling as it did.
"Come on! Over here, you ugly lout." Alistair was crouched defensively, shield at the ready. The ogre shambled towards Alistair as its large, powerful arms swung wildly.
Elin struggled again and managed to get to her knees. Sweat dripped down her face as she struggled to reach her bow.
The guard that had joined them burst from the shadows. The man rushed the ogre from behind and sunk his sword into the thing's back.
The thing fell heavily, groaning and writhing on the floor. Alistair clambered on its back and drove his blade into the base of the ogre's skull. The darkspawn twitched once before it fell still.
Elin sank back to the floor, grimacing. Her ribs felt like they were on fire, and every tiny movement was torture, but it was over.
Alistair started toward her. "Are you hurt?"
She began to shake her head before sharp pain stopped her. "Light the signal!"
He hesitated a moment before obeying.
The guard limped over to her and knelt down, drawing strips of bandages from a pouch at his hip. "I don't have much, but it should help."
Elin tried to smile. The shemlen were not all so bad as she had feared. "Thank you."
The door burst open with a loud bang, and the guard's throat burst open in a spray of red. Elin blinked through a bloody mask as he slumped forward with a gurgle.
The air was thick with arrows, and even the dying man's body could not fully protect her. An arrow glanced her throat, and another hit just above her heart. A thump shook her body, and her breath suddenly felt wet and heavy.
The last thing Elin saw was Alistair's limp, unmoving body.
*****
Alistair shivered miserably. The cold of the wilds had settled into his bones and refused to leave. Waiting outside the house only made it worse, but the old woman insisted Elin needed quiet and rest. The way she had said it made it all-too clear that he was an unacceptable disruption. Alistair huffed. He was perfectly capable of sitting quietly by a fire. When he had said this, Morrigan had burst into laughter before the old woman could reply.
The cottage door creaked and Alistair looked up hopefully.
"What are you staring at?" Morrigan's yellow eyes glared at him.
"Oh it's you." Alistair hunched his shoulders and tried to ignore her scowl. "I was hoping for someone else."
Morrigan let out a heavy sigh. "Well, she's awake, so you can stop moping."
Alistair's head snapped up and his tiny shred of hope seemed to swell."Wait, she's up? Can I see her? Is she -"
The door creaked again and Elin stepped into the weak sunlight. She was pale and her face looked drawn, but she was alive.
"Maker, I can't believe it." Alistair had nearly given up on her. "Everyone else is dead, I thought I'd lost you too." He stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alive."
Elin was stiff in his arms, but he was too happy to care. He had not been left alone.
*****
Chapter 3: Suledin Sahlin
The dragon stared at her with dead white eyes. She yearned to find it, to follow it.
The dragon lifted its head and let out a deafening roar, but it was more than that. It was a song, a call, a tug in her blood. The song twisted inside her, enticing her until the breaths she drew were ragged and uncontrolled. The song peaked and she threw her head back with a soft cry.
Tamlen's face, mottled grey and purple stared down at her with cold, dead eyes. Elin began to scream.
*****
"Tamlen!"
Elin jolted awake, hands twisted into the blankets. Her pulse was wild and she sucked desperately at the night air. Every breath she drew seemed a struggle.
"Bad dreams?" Alistair sat near the fire, staring into the flames.
Elin swallowed hard and ran a shaking hand over her face to find it wet with tears. "Yes." Her throat was dry and her voice rasped. "It was so real."
"It's the Archdemon. It calls to the horde and we hear it." Alistair sat back with a heavy sigh. "It's not really a dream, not for Wardens."
The words twisted Elin's stomach. It was the blood. The blood that killed Daveth; the blood that Jory wouldn't drink; the blood that had saved her. Marethari had always warned the Dalish of the power of blood. Tears stung her eyes. She should have listened.
Elin swallowed hard. "The Joining."
"Yes. I know it seems… terrible, but we have to do it. It lets us sense them; it makes us stronger, so we can hunt them." Alistair fell silent for a few moments. "But we can't have children, and the blood is still poison. Neither of us have more than thirty years left."
Anger surged inside her. "Why didn't Duncan tell me? Or my Keeper? She didn't send me here to die."
"He couldn't tell you. He did what he had to." Alistair scrambled to his feet and shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways, he's dead. What do you care?"
Elin flinched. "Abelas. I didn't mean to offend." She drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. "He was kind to me."
Alistair stooped to his bedroll and began to fold the blankets. "Who is Tamlen?"
"My friend." Elin's chest tightened. Tamlen was more than that. He had been clever and strong and skilled. She had trusted him with any secret and every doubt. He was the brother she never had. "We were close."
"Is he with your clan, still?"
Elin watched Alistair's movements as he creased and folded the bedroll. Crease, fold, crease fold. "He is dead." It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and they left her feeling hollow.
"Oh." Alistair's hands faltered. "I didn't know."
They packed the camp in silence.
*****
Alistair and Morrigan were squabbling again. Elin rubbed her temples and tried to make out the thin, swirling lines that looked more like flowers than letters. Merrill had taught her to read Common, but those letters had been clear and blocky.
"Well, I do not smell like I stepped out of a dog pen."
"At least I'm not an utter bitch."
"Very original, Alistair. Did you think that up all by yourself? I hope you did not strain yourself over much."
Elin slapped the treaties against her thigh. "Stop it." They had snipped at each other endlessly since breaking camp.
Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest and gave Elin an amused look. "So you do talk."
"Hush." Elin stood and held out the papers. "Can you read this?"
Alistair opened his mouth, but Elin glared at him. His teeth clicked shut and he hunched his shoulders with a low grumble.
For all the complaints, the other two seemed to look to her for guidance The thought made her stomach flutter; she had never even led a large hunt, or a scouting party. She was too impatient to lead. She knew nothing about being a Warden. Elgar'nan help me, how am I supposed to stop a Blight when I can't get two people to stop arguing?
"The treaties look simple enough." Morrigan leafed through the pages slowly. "If the Wardens request aid for a Blight, it will be honored." The woman shrugged and handed the pages back.
Alistair edged toward Elin. "Then where do we go first?"
Elin lifted her hands in frustration. "I don't know. I don't even know where things are." Her clan had little need for maps; they camped where there was game to hunt and water to drink.
"I know the way to Eamon's. He could help us." Alistair rocked back on his heels.
Elin sighed and nodded. The southern forests would not be easy to travel for months yet, and the hunting would be poor. She would have to find the Dalish when the weather allowed. "How long will it take?" Their food was running low, and the quick pace had kept her from hunting as they travelled.
"I'm… not really sure." The other Warden looked a bit sheepish. "It's been a long time since I was on the road, but Redcliffe is well known. There are always signs along the road for big towns or castles like that."
Morrigan snorted. "What a grand idea. Let us follow Alistair's plans."
Elin glowered and pressed on through the trees while the two followed, exchanging short, clipped insults as they went.
*****
Sten opened his eyes to find an elf peering up at him. He had forgotten how small they could be. When he had still possessed the strength, he had startled those who stared too long, but that time was days' past. "Leave me, elf. I am not here to amuse you."
"What are you?" The elf's green eyes were sharp.
"I am Sten, of the beresaad. I am qunari." The words were a lie without Asala in his hand, but this bas would not know better.
"Wonder what he did to end up in there." The blonde human looked wary.
"The Revered Mother said he killed an entire family." It was the red-haired priest, who had brought him water each night. Her eyes were blue as the seas of Seheron and filled with pity.
"Is this true?" The elf ran a finger along the lock that held him captive.
Sten nodded once. "Yes."
The blonde man laughed nervously. "Well, that settles that! We're not so desperate as to stoop to recruiting heartless murders, right Elin?"
The elf cocked her head and peered at the lock.
"Elin?" The man's voice was almost a plea.
"Would you fight for me, Sten?" The elf tapped the lock and met his gaze.
The desire for purpose burned inside him, but he feared becoming Tal'Vashoth. "Your cause?"
The elf gave a grim smile. "The Blight."
This was unexpected. "Then you are Grey Wardens." They were less impressive than Sten had imagined, but it was nothing less than what he had expected from this cursed country.
The elf nodded towards the blonde man. "We are. Will you fight?"
The purpose was good and true. The purpose would give him an answer for the Arishok. He would hold a sword in his hand and serve the Qun. "Yes."
*****
Alistair's shield lashed out unexpectedly, hitting Elin's shoulder. She hissed at the jarring pan that ran through her arm. The shield was solid oak and hard enough to bruise. He moved to swing, but she parried, slowing his blade along the curve of her dagger. His balance wavered and she moved for the kill.
The shield blocked her again and she danced back. He was slow to swing, but she could not get through his shield.
Elin dropped into a crouch and began to circle. Alistair watched her warily, shield tucked close and low. It had always been easy to goad Tamlen into attacking her, but Alistair had fallen for none of her tricks.
"Dinner's ready!" Leliana's accent made the words sound like a song.
Alistair relaxed and moved to sheath his sword. There was an opening in his defense, and Elin lunged.
Even with the advantage, she barely managed the killing blow. Three days of fruitless sparring and she had finally gained a victory.
"That wasn't fair." Alistair frowned at the dagger pressed to his splintmail.
Elin shook her head. "We never agreed to stop."
Alistair blinked. "Well, no, we didn't."
She stepped back and tapped her dagger against his shield. "I won."
He laughed. "Well it took you long enough. Duncan would have me flat on my back in half a dozen moves."
Elin gave a small nod. The few times she had sparred with Duncan had inspired doubt in her abilities. "Tell me about him."
Alistair let out a soft sigh and shrugged. "I met him six months ago. I was given to the Chantry when I was young, and had been training to be a Templar. I liked the training, and the books they gave us, but I hated all the rules and the praying and chanting." He gave a small laugh. "They never liked my sense of humor either."
"Anyways, Duncan came to recruit a Templar, and he picked me. I wasn't the best, but he petitioned the Grand Cleric herself to take me anyway. I guess he saw something." Alistair smiled a little. "And I became a Grey Warden. I never knew my father, but Duncan felt like one, all kindness and patience, and - well, you know how he is." The smile dropped and Alistair kicked at the dirt. "Was." He let out a loud breath and shook his head. "I still can't believe he's gone."
Elin nodded and tried to push away the thoughts of her clan before they overwhelmed her. "I know."
"I guess you would. He and the Grey Wardens were the only family I ever really had." Alistair let out a long sigh. "I wish he could have had a proper funeral, you know?"
"I - we never found Tamlen. We sang." The evening air seemed to cool on her skin, and she shivered.
Alistair touched her shoulder lightly. "Has it been long?"
She swallowed hard. "Twelve days before Duncan." It had been twenty-five days since she had left her clan, twenty-eight since she had last seen Tamlen. She needed to stop counting, but when she counted how many days it took to travel, those few extra numbers seemed to add themselves.
Alistair's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Elin. Maker, I feel like an ass, now."
Elin looked up. "Why?"
"Look at you." He gestured. "You've been going at it, all stoic and commanding, and I spent a week moping around feeling sorry for myself. You've had as much to upset you as I have, if not more." Alistair let out a huffing laugh. "Maker, but I'm glad you're with me. I'd have made a mess of the whole thing already."
Gratitude was the last thing she had expected from a shemlen, and the words made her smile. "Ma serranas."
Alistair grinned. "Ah, so you do smile. And speak Elvish! Wonders never cease."
Elin winced. The Elvish seemed to run away from her around him. "Forgive me. I said 'thank you.'"
He shrugged casually. "I figured. Now, can we eat?" He sheathed his sword. "I'm starving."
She nodded towards the fire and ignored the gnawing hunger in her gut. "Go ahead. I need to set traps before it gets too dark." The dried meat they had bought was too scarce to last them to Redcliffe, and there was little game along the road.
Alistair nodded and jogged towards the stew pot, where the others had already gathered.
Elin lingered a few moments before she turned to the tall, pale green grasses along the road. The rabbits would make trails in the delicate grass, and her traps would snare them when they returned to their burrows.
*****"I still don't understand." Elin cocked her head to the side and frowned.
Confusion was not the reaction Alistair had expected. "Don't understand what?"
"Why does your father matter? You are not him." She looked nothing short of bewildered.
That had been made abundantly clear when he was younger. Alistair was not a royal, and he should not get ideas about ruling or anything else. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Look, it matters to humans. When a ruler dies, their oldest child is supposed to take their place. But my father and mother weren't married, so I'm not," Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, "fit to rule."
Elin's expression suddenly brightened. "Ah, I see. That explains Cailan."
"Yes. Wait, what?" Alistair was fairly certain there was an insult buried in there somewhere. Elin stared at him placidly. He cleared his throat. "Anyways, that's it. Just keep thinking of me as the idiot who managed not to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."
She crossed her arms and gave him an unhappy look. "And what of me?"
"You're why we have a chance." He was not proud of the way he had acted after Ostagar, and thinking about it still made him angry. The small bit of hope he had lay in Elin. The mere thought of leading terrified him.
Her green eyes searched his face a moment before she spoke. "You aren't an idiot."
Alistair laughed nervously. The last time a woman complimented him, she had gotten grabby. He was never setting foot inside the Pearl again. Ever. "I'm not so sure, but thanks."
Elin shook her head and muttered something he couldn't understand.
He decided it was for the better.
*****
Chapter 4: Isala Sa'falon
The arrows were useless against the skeletal corpses, but the village men continued to fire. Elin wondered how any of them had managed to survive. .
Her daggers were little better. The blades slid off the exposed bones, and the only thing that seemed to kill them was a smashed skull.
Elin ducked under a clumsy swing and slashed at the creature's knees. It stumbled forward and fell. She stepped towards it and kicked at its head. The skull crunched under the heel of her boot.
A twang of bowstrings was followed by the clatter of iron on bone. None of the walking corpses fell.
"No more arrows! Crush their skulls!" Elin's voice was lost in the din of battle, and none of Redcliffe's men obeyed. She let out a frustrated cry and lashed out at another corpse as it staggered towards her.
"Bows down! Get out your weapons and go for the head!" Murdock's rough voice cut through the cacophony of groans and yells.
The men were slow to obey at first, but as the battle wore on, the arrows that flew were fewer in number.
After what felt like hours, the last corpse fell. The men still left standing let out a few weary cheers.
Elin wiped the sweat and blood from her brow and stared at the castle across the lake.
******
The light on the water made her head ache, and the nasty hit she had taken from Teagan did little to help.
A large shadow blocked the sun. "This is a diversion."
Elin pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "It is not."
"We wasted time at the village, and now we waste time saving a boy." Sten let out a loud, disapproving huff. "We are supposed to be ending the Blight."
"We have treaties with the mages. This is quicker than walking" She could forgive the qunari's lack of faith so long as he continued to follow.
"And what if they do no honor them? They are mages, little better than animals. I am not impressed, Warden."
Elin looked up to find Sten glowering at her with those odd violet eyes. "I care little about impressing you." She had a duty to her clan, even if the Keeper had sent her away. She would fight darkspawn to keep them safe.
Sten grunted in a way that was nearly a growl. "So I see."
Elin closed her eyes again and focused on the comforting rock of the boat. The back and forth movement felt much like an aravel, and the creaking of wood deepened the familiar sensation. It almost felt like home.
*****
Alistair could sense the thinness of the veil and the distant hum of power in the levels above. The Tower itself made the hairs on his neck stand on end. If he were perfectly honest with Elin, he would admit preferring to stay on this side of the massive iron doors that led to the rest of the Tower.
Despite Greagoir's annoyed protests, she had not been swayed. "I have a treaty."
Every crease in Greagoir's face deepened in dismay as he towered over Elin. "They have killed most of my men. You would recruit them as allies?"
"Yes." The evenness in Elin's tone unnerved Alistair.
Greagoir sighed heavily and shook his head. "Can you at least tell me why?"
"I fight the Blight. I need the strongest army." Elin opened her mouth as if she were going to continue, but she suddenly stopped as Greagoir's face grew dark.
Alistair knew why she wanted the mages over the Templars: the mages had proven stronger.
The chill that spread along Alistair's skin had nothing to do with magic
.
*****
"Stop acting like a child. Is this not what you want? To think the world is safe?" The thing that was not Duncan smiled at her, but there was no life in its eyes.
"No. Halam sahlin." Elin drew her blades and hoped the thing was less skilled than the true Duncan had been.
The lifeless eyes glittered dangerously. "Then you will die."
*****
Elin scrubbed away the tears that stung her eyes as Leliana disappeared. Massive statues twisted and turned back on themselves in fractured pieces that shattered her sense of direction. The landscape shimmered at the edges of her vision and everything was cast in a sickly yellow pallor that made her skin crawl. It was worse when she had to shift shape. She was too large or too small, and the sudden rush of magic in the tall, thin body shocked her to the core. It was too much power with no control, and only the slightest half-rotted memory of how it could be used.
But the worst was the others' dream traps. Each time she had to pull them away from their pity or their fantasy or their stubbornness. Each time she had to fight. Each time left her shaken and exhausted.
The pedestal shimmered blue as she touched the edges and snaking black lines raced towards the center of the intricate design. A new eight-pointed star shimmered in the center as the delicate glyphs ringing the star pulsed as though they were alive.
Elin touched a finger to the final star.
The Fade shifted.
*****
Alistair sipped at his ale and sighed happily. The inn was small, but the food was good, and it was better than spending the night at the Tower while the mages prepared for Connor's ritual. The silvers spent would be more than worth it. Alistair stretched and found himself glad they had a night on real beds.
"Care for another drink?" The dwarf serving him smiled.
Alistair shook his head. "Nah, I've had plenty. Going to get a bit of fresh air." The common room was hot and loud, and the regulars grumbled as they squeezed in around strangers.
He stepped out the door to find the moon rising over the smooth, glassy surface of the lake. The Tower was outlined prettily in the silvery light and he could almost forget the blood-stained chambers inside.
A small figure was crouched near the shore and Alistair moved towards it. As he grew closer, he saw one pointed ear outlined in the moonlight. "Elin?"
She craned her neck to look at him.
Alistair rolled his shoulders and tried to act casual as he moved to sit by her. His memory of the Fade made him blush. "The lake is pretty, isn't it?"
"Yes." She turned her gaze back to the water and drew her knees to her chest.
"Are you okay?" The odd strangeness that had clung to him in the Fade had disappeared shortly after he woke up, but Elin had been pale and drawn even when they left the Tower.
Elin rested her chin on her knees. "I'm fine."
Alistair scrubbed a hand through his hair. He did not know how anyone could come through that ordeal without feeling something. "I know I'm not Dalish, but I am another Grey Warden. You don't have to hide everything from me." He leaned back on his elbows and sighed. "Are you fine? Really?"
The night air was still for a long while, and Alistair began to wonder if he had pushed too far. He had no idea if he was being rude, or if she would not say anything because he was human, or not serious enough.
"No." Elin stretched out her legs and flexed her feet. "I'm not."
"Do you want to talk?" Alistair regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Elin never wanted to talk.
She shifted a little closer and shrugged. "I - yes." Elin gave him a small half-smile. "I'd like that."
Author: valiasedai
Artist: hemisphere
Beta: Rob, xogs
Canon: Dragon Age: Origins
Ratings: M
Warnings: Violence, sexual content
Summary: Forced from her clan, Elin Mahariel clings to the one thing left to her: duty. But as she struggles to lead amidst the impending Blight, she finds that a Grey Warden's duty is not as simple as she supposed.
Author's/Artist's note A huge thanks to my betas for constructive feedback, to the DA Wiki Elven Language Page for an incredible article on what is known from the little in-game Elvish, to sagacious_rage for letting me sign up so late, and finally, a massive thank you to my artist, hemi, who has been communicative and fantastic through the whole process.
Due to length restrictions, the post has been cut into three parts. Part 2. Part 3.
(Click through for fullsize)
Prologue: Da'len
Amaril ducked beneath a branch and clutched at her still-distended belly. Her body was still weak and sore from the birth, but she was certain she had heard Nahel calling to her in the forest.
Sweat dripped from her brow as she stumbled through the moon-dappled grass. Nahel could not be dead, not by the hand of shemlen and flat-ears, not with his command over magic. He was out there, waiting for her.
Amaril pressed deeper into the tall, dark pines. She would find him and bring him back. They would be together at last.
*****
Ashalle hushed the babe in her arms as Marethari approached.
The Keeper's eyes were tired, and her mouth was drawn tight. "Amaril has been found."
Relief welled in Ashalle. The birth had taken almost two full days, and Amaril had been lost to fever dreams shortly after the babe slipped from her body. "Mythal bless us, is she all right?"
Marethari licked her lips and shook her head once. "Hahren Paivel says he will be ready to sing her to rest in the morning."
The breath went out of Ashalle. In the days before the birth pains began, Amaril had begun to smile and laugh again. Ashalle had been certain the child would renew Amaril's hope. "And what of her daughter?"
There were a few moments of silence before Marethari reached out to touch the babe's forehead. "The girl belongs to our clan. I will find someone who wishes to care for her."
The child's earlier discontent had faded into a drowsy sleep. Ashalle pressed her lips to the girl's downy-soft hair and inhaled the soft scent with a dreamy sigh. In all the many years she had been with Vanil, she had borne him no children. Ashalle had been bitter at first, but time had softened it into resignation. The tiny bundle in her arms sparked a hope she had thought long dead. "Vanil and I can care for her. He always wanted a daughter."
Marethari's eyes ran over Ashalle's face, flat and unreadable, and Ashalle clung to the babe, praying the Creators would grant her this one wish. "You cannot claim her as your daughter, but you may care for her if you wish. The clan will assist whenever you need. The responsibility lies with all of us."
"Thank you, Keeper." Ashalle hugged the girl close and smiled as Marethari turned away. The infant nuzzled at Ashalle's breast and made a soft huffing noise. "Elin." The girl lazily opened her eyes at Ashalle and went cross-eyed as she tried to focus. The child was beautiful and perfect; the child was hers.
*****
"Elin! Where have you been?" Ashalle sighed heavily and gave Elin a stern look.
Elin held up one hand and tried to keep the excitement from her face. "Look!" The rabbit had been tricky to catch, but in the end she had gotten the trap right. Warm, sticky blood ran down her arm, but Elin did not mind. It made her feel like a real hunter.
"Oh da'len, I didn't know you were out trapping." Ashalle took the rabbit and drew her belt knife. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to surprise you." Elin's shoulders slumped a little when Ashalle sighed. She never meant to worry Ashalle. "And I didn't know if I would catch anything."
Ashalle leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Elin's head. "Thank you for the rabbit, da'len. Just tell me next time you'll be gone so long. Vanil was ready to send the hunters after you." Ashalle flipped the rabbit on its back and slid the knife down the belly. "Now, go tell him you returned safely. And then wash up so you can help with dinner." Ashalle gutted the rabbit in a few casual, easy gestures as she spoke.
Elin nodded absently as she watched the deliberate movements of Ashalle's knife. The skin separated cleanly from shiny grey sinew and deep red muscle under the precise strokes of Ashalle's blade. Elin's fingers twitched as she tried to commit the movements to memory. "Can you teach me to do that?"
Ashalle's smooth movements stopped. "Go tell Vanil quickly, and I'll wait."
Elin grinned. "Ma serannas. I'll hurry!" She bounded out the door, imagining her legs as swift and strong as a halla.
*****
Merrill stared into the fire, knees drawn to her chest. Her new Keeper was so serious, and there was so much to learn. Merrill was certain she would never remember it all. She felt so small and alone here, and even the forest was strange to her. Marethari's clan was nice, but no one spoke with her much, and she was beginning to feel invisible.
A happy giggle was the only warning Merrill had before a girl tumbled into her. The impact sent Merrill's head spinning.
"Abelas! Did I hurt you?" The girl looked down at Merrill, all green eyes and wild blonde hair.
"I'm okay." Merrill felt her cheeks heat as she sat up. She never knew what to say around the new clan, and she so scared of bothering them.
"I'm Elin." The girl smiled and plucked a twig out of Merrill's hair. "Can you play?"
Merrill blinked a few times. "Play? I think so, but I can't go far. Marethari says to say close if she needs me."
Elin stuck out her hand and pulled Merrill to her feet. "We can stay in the camp, then. Master Ilen always has little wooden halla to play with. Come on!" Elin scampered off so suddenly that Merrill nearly tripped trying to keep up.
That night, Merrill crawled into bed with her fingers curled around a tiny wooden halla, and smiled as she drifted off to sleep. She had a friend.
*****
Moon-shadows hid many things. The deer knew this, but it did not know how. The air was still and carried no scent of predator. Night-birds broke the silence with calls that held no note of urgency of alarm.
Sweet young grass had been pushing its way through the spring-warm soil, and the deer lowered its head to graze. The fresh, crunching greenness of the grass was a joy after a hard winter of bark and twig-tips. The wind shifted and tickled the deer's nose.
Two-leg.
The thought was an image more than a word, but two-leg meant death. The deer tensed to leap.
Its knee gave way just before it felt the pain and the hot trickle of blood that spilled to the ground. Only then did it realize the night birds had gone quiet. The deer's heartbeat and the sound of two running feet were all the deer could hear. Another jolt of pain and it struggled and collapsed again. Its heartbeat was wild, and breath was lost to it.
Strange paws grasped under its chin and something sharp cut into its neck, drawing the blood out like a stream. The deer blinked at the two-leg that held it and struggled one last time before it died.
*****
Tamlen strode into the clearing and put his hands on his hips. "Lucky shot?"
Elin glanced up at him, calm and cool-eyed as she worked the knots of the make-shift sled. "Where's your deer?"
He felt his cheeks go hot as he squatted near the carcass. He had let his footsteps grow careless, and his deer had run. "I let it get away."
She cocked her head to the side and the corners of her mouth nearly twitched into a smile. "Did you, now?"
Tamlen stuck his tongue out at Elin and was rewarded with a laugh. "We should go. It's nearly dawn."
"Help me carry it back to camp, and I'll share." Elin's eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Of course, lethallan." He knew she would share regardless of his help, but he was happy to give it. They would do much more than carry prey for each other. It was the way of the Dalish, and of friends.
*****
Chapter 1: Sulevin'din Shiral
The shemlen's eyes were huge, and none was armed with more than a belt knife. One had lost control of his bladder, and Elin wrinkled her nose at the sharp smell of urine. The men were no threat.
She relaxed her bow and nodded to Tamlen."Let them go, lethallin. Their only crime is stupidity."
Forest birds chirped and called while the shemlen mumbled quiet prayers to their Maker, and Tamlen held his bowstring taut. Finally, wood creaked and Tamlen jerked his head sharply. "Go, then, before I change my mind."
One of the shemlen began to cry. "Oh, thank you ser. You're so kind, I -"
"Go!" Tamlen started towards the men and one of them gave a low, wavering moan as he turned to flee.
When the shemlen had disappeared from sight, Tamlen turned to her, eyes hard. "They'll just bring more."
Elin returned his gaze with a hard frown. "And if we had killed them and others had found out?"
His stare faltered and he raised a hand to his face. "Shemlen took everything from us."
Elin stepped forward and touched Tamlen's arm. "Hamin, Tamlen.Not those shemlen. Elvhen nan din'reth. We should tell the Keeper." For once, the thought of a move did not bother Elin. The forest here was thick and wild, and while game was plentiful, the wolves and bears were the most dangerous and aggressive in her memory. It was not safe to linger along at the edges of camp once the sun had set.
"The shemlen mentioned a cave."
Elin studied Tamlen. He had that look that meant they were going to do something very impressive or very stupid. She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, they did."
Tamlen went wide-eyed and innocent-looking. "Don't look at me like that, you're too serious. What if there's something useful or valuable? We should go look."
"And if I say we should get the Keeper?"
"Then I say you have no sense of adventure." Tamlen grinned. "Come on, we'll look quickly."
Elin let out a deep breath and nodded. "All right, but - Hey! Wait!" Tamlen bounded ahead of her, laughing. She raced after him, unable to stop the smile that spread over her face.
*****
Elin bolted upright, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. The dreams of caves and dead that walked had felt so real. She shivered and rubbed at her arms.
She ran shaking fingers through her hair and tried to steady her breath. It was just a nightmare. It had to be. Nothing like that could be real.
A sudden tap on the door of the aravel made her jump. "Elin? Are you awake, lethallan?"
Elin's pulse fluttered and she tried to catch her breath. "Merrill? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on you." The door opened and sunlight spilled into the aravel. Merrill clambered in, brow furrowed with worry. "You've been so sick Marethari thought she was going to lose you." Merrill pressed cool fingers to Elin's forehead. "You're still a bit warm, but it's nothing like it was." Merrill wrapped her in a tight hug and rocked back and forth. "Oh, I'm so glad! Everyone has been waiting for you to wake."
Elin shook her head and grasped at memories that seemed to slip through her fingers. "What happened? How long have I been asleep?"
Her mind was racing. There had been frightened shemlen, and a cave with a strange, twisted mirror. Everything beyond that was a confused haze of voices and blurred images. "Where's Tamlen?"
Merrill pulled away away and toyed with a metal ring on her robes. "A shemlen, one of the dorf'mi, found you and brought you here. You were so sick and feverish; Marethari thought you wouldn't make it. I was up with her, trying to heal you, but I'm not very good, and worse," Merrill glanced back to Elin, her green eyes wet, "we don't know where Tamlen is. We hoped you knew."
Elin shook her head in disbelief. "We were in a cave. I know where it is." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I need to tell the Keeper. We have to go back." She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs didn't want to stand, and the ground seemed to ripple beneath her.
Merrill managed to catch her before she fell. "I'll tell the Keeper you're up once I get you something to eat. Just… stay here and don't get in trouble. Promise me?" Her friend's voice was all but pleading.
Elin nodded absently. "Promise."
The door clattered behind Merrill and Elin was alone again. Her breaths grew shallow and sharp, and panic clawed its way up her throat. Tamlen could be hurt and alone, and the ruins were dangerous.
He could be dead.
The thought made her breath hitch, and she looked to the ceiling as tears ran down her face. Creators save him.
*****
"No, don't destroy it! We could learn so much. There's so little of our history left, please." Merrill ached to examine the mirror, to touch it, to study it. She could feel the power the mirror held, and it called to her. Something about it made her blood hum, like it knew she was Dalish.
The Grey Warden shook his head and blocked her path to the mirror. "It is tainted. If it stays whole it will continue to draw darkspawn and infect any who get too close. Your friend is still sick, and another of your clanmates has gone missing." His voice was calm, almost soothing, but his sword was already drawn.
Merrill looked to Elin for support, but her friend's face was pale and a thin sheet of sweat covered her forehead. Merrill's hands balled up in frustration. "Please, no!"
The Grey Warden shook his head. "I am sorry."
He lifted his sword and swung at the mirror. The shatter was deafening and dozens of pieces scattered across the floor. Merrill slumped as she felt the power waver and burst. An invaluable key to the past, gone.
"The darkspawn won't be drawn here any longer." The Grey Warden nodded towards the door. "Shall we go?"
"No." Elin's voice was low and hoarse. "No. We haven't found Tamlen. I'm not leaving until I find him."
Merrill nodded slowly. "We were sent to find him."
"Your friend is gone. He has been sick with no healing for days. I have seen no body, and the darkspawn could have -" the Grey Warden cleared his throat. "If there was something to find, it would be here."
Elin bristled. "You don't know that! He was a skilled hunter, a skilled fighter. He could protect himself."
The Grey Warden shifted and gave a short sigh. "And if he was unconscious like you have been? Is he so great a fighter that he can do so sick and asleep?"
Elin lunged toward the Grey Warden and Merrill held her breath.
The Grey Warden caught Elin's wrists easily. She struggled against him, and gave a weak kick at one of his shins. The man winced, but held his ground. Merrill looked between the two of them and drew on her magic, watching and waiting. She didn't know how to make it stop, but she knew it would be her fault if either was hurt.
"Let me go! I have to, I must, I -" Elin shook her head frantically. "Please."
The Grey Warden gently released Elin, and she sank to the ground with quiet sobs.
"Oh no, please don't cry." Merrill rushed to Elin's side. "Tamlen wouldn't want that." She cupped Elin's face in one hand and gently wiped away the tears. "And we have to tell the Keeper what we saw. You're one of the Elvhen, Elin. You can be strong, I know it."
Elin nodded against Merrill's palm and let out wavering sigh. "Abelas." Elin scrambled to her feet and clenched her jaw so tightly Merrill was certain her teeth would break. "I will try."
Merrill gave a half-hearted smile and patted Elin's arm. "There, it's all right to have tears now and then." The thought of the mirror was enough to make her weep, but Elin needed her now. Merrill would mourn that loss later. "Come along, we shouldn't keep Marethari waiting."
The walk back to camp was silent.
*****
"Keeper, please. Don't ask me to do this. I want to stay with the clan." Elin's eyes were wild, and her voice began to crack. "How can I help the clan if I am away?
Marethari shook her head and steeled herself for what must come. "I am sorry, da'len, but you must help us by joining the Grey Wardens. Fight with them and you protect us." No matter what the old treaties said, giving one of her own to the Wardens felt like cutting off a limb. It was only made worse by Tamlen's disappearance. "I can't let you die when the Wardens can save you."
Elin closed her eyes tightly and said nothing for a long time as tears streaked down her face.
"Da'len." Marethari touched Elin's arm. "You must do this."
Elin nodded stiffly, but it was easy to see the tremble in her lips. "If… if it is for the good of the clan, then I will go."
Duncan stepped forward and gave a short bow. "Then may I be the first to welcome you to the Grey Wardens, Elin. The few Dalish who have served in the order have served well. We have great respect for your people."
Marethari nodded, hoping Elin would find comfort in the words. Of all the shemlen to be with, Duncan was the one Marethari trusted. He had always been respectful of the clans. "You must leave us, but our blood will always be yours. May Mythal protect you, wherever you may walk. Dareth shiral."
"Ma nuvenin, Keeper." Elin's tone was flat against an angry expression, and her fists were clenched tightly at her sides..
The anger cut Marethari to the core. Even as a Grey Warden, most shemlen would see her as nothing more than an elf. The world that Elin must go to would not be kind, or safe, and Duncan could only shield her from so much.
It was such things that were a Keeper's burden, and she must keep her people alive, even if it meant losing them. The blood of the Elvhen was precious.
*****
Elin slid her knife between muscle and skin, cleanly parting one from the other. It was a task she had completed a thousand times, and the familiar movements allowed her a few moments of peace. She could nearly pretend she was back at camp, and that Tamlen and Merrill would be there when she looked up. She frowned. It was a foolish thought.
"Is something wrong?" Duncan's voice was calm and even.
Something about the question put her on edge. Duncan knew what was wrong, or he thought he did, but he could not understand. "No."
Duncan let out a long sigh. "I know you don't want to be here, but you are here. Sitting around sulking won't change anything, and it makes you a rather unpleasant travelling companion."
The words shamed her. The shemlen had been nothing but kind to her, and she had returned his kindness with quiet anger. He had done nothing wrong. "Abelas, Duncan. I have not been myself. Ma serranas. I am grateful you saved my life."
"You have been through much these past days. How are you?" His tone was sincere and worried, and the kindness made her ache for her clan.
Elin skillfully parted the last bit of skin from the rabbit and gently laid the pelt aside. "Sad." She did not know how to tell him that her breath hitched when she thought of Tamlen. She did not know how to tell him that tears threatened to overwhelm her when the air was still and quiet, because she expected Merrill's happy chatter to fill the silence. She did not know how to tell him that she was hurt and angry and lonely.
She did not know how to tell him these things, so she did not.
"And your sickness?" Duncan's brow furrowed and he half-closed his eyes. "I can still sense it, but you still seem strong."
She wiped her forehead with the back of a hand and scowled when she found it damp. "Still sick." With luck, he did not see the way her hands trembled after hours of walking, or notice that her breaths came harder with each day.
Duncan pushed the coals into a long, narrow line with a stick. "Many of the recruits leave everyone they know when they join. The Wardens become their friends, as well as their family." Duncan blew lightly on the coals and motioned towards the rabbit. "Give them a chance."
The thought was almost impossible. She had been told there was not another woman among them, much less an elf. But Duncan was reasonable, respectful. He fought well. He had saved her when he had no care for who she was. If the others were like him, maybe there was a chance. Maybe. "I will try."
His fingers were deft as he trussed the rabbit to a long, straight stick. "That's all I ask."
*****
Chapter 2: Him Dorf'mi
The sound of armored boots drew Duncan's attention to a shining, golden figure. He cringed involuntarily. Maker, why now? Elin had been less prickly, but she hardly knew what was expected around human royalty.
Cailan was all excited smiles and bright eyes as he approached. "Ho there, Duncan!"
"Your Majesty," Duncan bowed his head, "this is an honor."
"I'm glad you're back! And I see you've brought a new recruit. We heard you had found someone. I am King Cailan." The boy - Duncan could not help but think of Cailan in that way - grinned at Elin and held out his hand.
Elin rose one eyebrow quizzically at the gesture and took a slow step back. "I am Elin Mahariel, of the Sabrae clan. I am one of the Dalish and I am free." The words were delivered fiercely, and her eyes never left Cailan's outstretched palm.
Duncan nearly swallowed his tongue. She hadn't said so many words at once since they had left her clan. The sudden outburst was enough to make Duncan reconsider his lack of devotion. If the Maker did exist, this moment was punishment for Duncan's laxity.
"One of the Dalish!" Cailan brightened even more, blue eyes widening. "I have heard tales of your people's bravery. The Wardens must be pleased to have you."
The elf gave a slow nod, features still uncertain. "Yes."
Laughter burst from the king's lips. "You didn't tell me she had a sense of humor, Duncan! I must go before Loghain frowns at me again, but I should like to talk before the battle. There is much to discuss."
Cailan chattered amicably at his guards as they made the long walk back across the bridge.
Duncan let out a breath he didn't remember holding. It was over.
Elin shifted and cleared her throat loudly. "I am not funny."
"What?" Duncan looked to her and found her glowering at Cailan's retreating back.
"I am not funny." Elin pronounced each word in short, clipped syllables.
Duncan shook his head. "No, you're not. You'd have to actually talk to be funny."
Elin frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I talk."
There was nothing to do but sigh. "As you say. Come, there is much to prepare."
*****
"Maker's ass, woman, do you have to do that every time?" Daveth's voice was high pitched and strained as he wiped at his blood-covered face in vain.
Alistair tried not to smile. The elf had a knack for catching Daveth in a bloody spray whenever she slit a darkspawn's throat. Alistair had lost count at five.
Elin stared at Daveth impassively. "The opportunity came to kill, so I did."
The expression on Daveth's face grew furious and he loomed over the elf. "That doesn't explain why you keep getting me and not the others!"
"Alistair and Jory kill their quarry. You maim it." Elin shrugged calmly, as though she were talking to a page in training. "It needs to be dead."
"Why you smart-mouthed little - " Daveth moved to grab Elin's arm.
She stepped out of the way and had Daveth flat on his back before Alistair could blink. She firmly planted her knee at the base of Daveth's spine and twisted his hand back until the man yelped.
"All right, I yield!"
Elin lingered a moment longer than Alistair thought was absolutely necessary and left Daveth cringing and cradling his hand.
Alistair tried to stop the grin that tugged at his mouth as he helped Daveth to his feet. "It'll wash off. Eventually. Except where it stains."
Daveth muttered under his breath and turned to gather arrows from the darkspawn.
"You don't have to be so harsh on him, you know." Jory looked at Alistair with big, baleful eyes, and he was suddenly reminded of a cow.
"Nah, it's good for him." Alistair gave Jory a good-natured slap on the back. "And besides, she has a point."
*****
Daveth fell to his knees, fingernails clawing at his throat. Elin stared in horror as he collapsed and drew one last, rattling breath. The death was so sudden, so unexpected that Elin could only stare.
"Jory, you are next in the Joining." Duncan's voice was empty and emotionless. His dark eyes, which had been so warm and welcoming until this moment, held no mercy.
Steel rasped as Jory drew his sword. The man stumbled away from the outstretched cup until his back met the stone wall. "You can't do this. My wife is with child." The man's eyes were wide, and his voice wavered.
"There is no turning back, Jory." Duncan drew the dagger at his hip. "You cannot leave."
Fear gripped Elin the moment Jory swung. Duncan parried the blow easily and threw the other man off balance. There was a glimmer of steel before he sank his dagger deep into Jory's belly.
Jory gaped in disbelief over Duncan's shoulder, and his large eyes settled on Elin. She stood frozen in place, barely able to draw breath as her panic mounted
"I am sorry, Jory." Regret filled Duncan's words as he pushed Jory from his blade and the dead man fell to the stone with a loud thump.
Elin stared in horror as Duncan took the cup again and started toward her. "Elin, you are the last in the Joining." Duncan stalked towards her, cup outstretched "Submit yourself to the Taint."
The blood rushed in her ears and her heart pounded frantically in her chest. The cold night air made her skin prickle, and she felt alive.
But she felt more than that. She felt the haze of fever and the tremble in her limbs. She had come here to live.
Elin took the cup and drank.
*****
"Alistair, down!"
Battlefield instinct took over and Alistair dropped to one knee. There was a soft thuck and a genlock shrieked loudly around the arrow lodged in its throat.
A hurlock rushed Alistair, and he lunged at it as best as he could, shield arm braced. The impact jarred his shoulder, but the hurlock stumbled back. Another arrow whizzed past and pierced the creature's chest. The brief opening was all Alistair needed, and one swift blow slit the darkspawn from neck to navel.
He could still sense darkspawn in the Tower, and the horde on the battlefield made his stomach churn, but there was nothing nearby.
Elin slipped past him silently and placed a boot on one of the downed hurlocks.
Alistair smiled at her. "Thanks."
She tugged at the first arrow and it squelched as she pulled it free. Bits of darkspawn flesh clung to the arrowhead, and she wiped it clean on the creature's filthy tunic.
Alistair scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. "Right." Duncan had warned him she might be a little quieter than he was used to. "Shall we go?"
Elin grunted as she wrenched the other arrow and examined it with a frown. "Useless." She snapped the arrow in two and tossed the halves aside. "Lead on."
Alistair nodded towards the Tower. She followed him closely, footsteps silent against the stones. Duncan had not been entirely truthful. "A little quiet" implied she made some noise, but her movement gave Alistair the distinct impression he was being followed by a short, deadly ghost.
He bit back another sigh. At least she was on his side.
*****
The wind left Elin's lungs, and there was a sickening sound-sensation of cracking bone. The ogre's attention was fully on her, now. The mage they had collected was dead, and Elin's small stash of elf root was gone. She struggled to push herself to her feet, but the pain only sharpened until her vision edged black.
She gripped her daggers in blood-slick hands and drew pained breaths through clenched teeth. She had not come all this way to die without a fight.
The ogre suddenly stiffened and let out a deafening roar. The creature turned away from her, steps stumbling as it did.
"Come on! Over here, you ugly lout." Alistair was crouched defensively, shield at the ready. The ogre shambled towards Alistair as its large, powerful arms swung wildly.
Elin struggled again and managed to get to her knees. Sweat dripped down her face as she struggled to reach her bow.
The guard that had joined them burst from the shadows. The man rushed the ogre from behind and sunk his sword into the thing's back.
The thing fell heavily, groaning and writhing on the floor. Alistair clambered on its back and drove his blade into the base of the ogre's skull. The darkspawn twitched once before it fell still.
Elin sank back to the floor, grimacing. Her ribs felt like they were on fire, and every tiny movement was torture, but it was over.
Alistair started toward her. "Are you hurt?"
She began to shake her head before sharp pain stopped her. "Light the signal!"
He hesitated a moment before obeying.
The guard limped over to her and knelt down, drawing strips of bandages from a pouch at his hip. "I don't have much, but it should help."
Elin tried to smile. The shemlen were not all so bad as she had feared. "Thank you."
The door burst open with a loud bang, and the guard's throat burst open in a spray of red. Elin blinked through a bloody mask as he slumped forward with a gurgle.
The air was thick with arrows, and even the dying man's body could not fully protect her. An arrow glanced her throat, and another hit just above her heart. A thump shook her body, and her breath suddenly felt wet and heavy.
The last thing Elin saw was Alistair's limp, unmoving body.
*****
Alistair shivered miserably. The cold of the wilds had settled into his bones and refused to leave. Waiting outside the house only made it worse, but the old woman insisted Elin needed quiet and rest. The way she had said it made it all-too clear that he was an unacceptable disruption. Alistair huffed. He was perfectly capable of sitting quietly by a fire. When he had said this, Morrigan had burst into laughter before the old woman could reply.
The cottage door creaked and Alistair looked up hopefully.
"What are you staring at?" Morrigan's yellow eyes glared at him.
"Oh it's you." Alistair hunched his shoulders and tried to ignore her scowl. "I was hoping for someone else."
Morrigan let out a heavy sigh. "Well, she's awake, so you can stop moping."
Alistair's head snapped up and his tiny shred of hope seemed to swell."Wait, she's up? Can I see her? Is she -"
The door creaked again and Elin stepped into the weak sunlight. She was pale and her face looked drawn, but she was alive.
"Maker, I can't believe it." Alistair had nearly given up on her. "Everyone else is dead, I thought I'd lost you too." He stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alive."
Elin was stiff in his arms, but he was too happy to care. He had not been left alone.
*****
Chapter 3: Suledin Sahlin
The dragon stared at her with dead white eyes. She yearned to find it, to follow it.
The dragon lifted its head and let out a deafening roar, but it was more than that. It was a song, a call, a tug in her blood. The song twisted inside her, enticing her until the breaths she drew were ragged and uncontrolled. The song peaked and she threw her head back with a soft cry.
Tamlen's face, mottled grey and purple stared down at her with cold, dead eyes. Elin began to scream.
*****
"Tamlen!"
Elin jolted awake, hands twisted into the blankets. Her pulse was wild and she sucked desperately at the night air. Every breath she drew seemed a struggle.
"Bad dreams?" Alistair sat near the fire, staring into the flames.
Elin swallowed hard and ran a shaking hand over her face to find it wet with tears. "Yes." Her throat was dry and her voice rasped. "It was so real."
"It's the Archdemon. It calls to the horde and we hear it." Alistair sat back with a heavy sigh. "It's not really a dream, not for Wardens."
The words twisted Elin's stomach. It was the blood. The blood that killed Daveth; the blood that Jory wouldn't drink; the blood that had saved her. Marethari had always warned the Dalish of the power of blood. Tears stung her eyes. She should have listened.
Elin swallowed hard. "The Joining."
"Yes. I know it seems… terrible, but we have to do it. It lets us sense them; it makes us stronger, so we can hunt them." Alistair fell silent for a few moments. "But we can't have children, and the blood is still poison. Neither of us have more than thirty years left."
Anger surged inside her. "Why didn't Duncan tell me? Or my Keeper? She didn't send me here to die."
"He couldn't tell you. He did what he had to." Alistair scrambled to his feet and shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways, he's dead. What do you care?"
Elin flinched. "Abelas. I didn't mean to offend." She drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. "He was kind to me."
Alistair stooped to his bedroll and began to fold the blankets. "Who is Tamlen?"
"My friend." Elin's chest tightened. Tamlen was more than that. He had been clever and strong and skilled. She had trusted him with any secret and every doubt. He was the brother she never had. "We were close."
"Is he with your clan, still?"
Elin watched Alistair's movements as he creased and folded the bedroll. Crease, fold, crease fold. "He is dead." It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and they left her feeling hollow.
"Oh." Alistair's hands faltered. "I didn't know."
They packed the camp in silence.
*****
Alistair and Morrigan were squabbling again. Elin rubbed her temples and tried to make out the thin, swirling lines that looked more like flowers than letters. Merrill had taught her to read Common, but those letters had been clear and blocky.
"Well, I do not smell like I stepped out of a dog pen."
"At least I'm not an utter bitch."
"Very original, Alistair. Did you think that up all by yourself? I hope you did not strain yourself over much."
Elin slapped the treaties against her thigh. "Stop it." They had snipped at each other endlessly since breaking camp.
Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest and gave Elin an amused look. "So you do talk."
"Hush." Elin stood and held out the papers. "Can you read this?"
Alistair opened his mouth, but Elin glared at him. His teeth clicked shut and he hunched his shoulders with a low grumble.
For all the complaints, the other two seemed to look to her for guidance The thought made her stomach flutter; she had never even led a large hunt, or a scouting party. She was too impatient to lead. She knew nothing about being a Warden. Elgar'nan help me, how am I supposed to stop a Blight when I can't get two people to stop arguing?
"The treaties look simple enough." Morrigan leafed through the pages slowly. "If the Wardens request aid for a Blight, it will be honored." The woman shrugged and handed the pages back.
Alistair edged toward Elin. "Then where do we go first?"
Elin lifted her hands in frustration. "I don't know. I don't even know where things are." Her clan had little need for maps; they camped where there was game to hunt and water to drink.
"I know the way to Eamon's. He could help us." Alistair rocked back on his heels.
Elin sighed and nodded. The southern forests would not be easy to travel for months yet, and the hunting would be poor. She would have to find the Dalish when the weather allowed. "How long will it take?" Their food was running low, and the quick pace had kept her from hunting as they travelled.
"I'm… not really sure." The other Warden looked a bit sheepish. "It's been a long time since I was on the road, but Redcliffe is well known. There are always signs along the road for big towns or castles like that."
Morrigan snorted. "What a grand idea. Let us follow Alistair's plans."
Elin glowered and pressed on through the trees while the two followed, exchanging short, clipped insults as they went.
*****
Sten opened his eyes to find an elf peering up at him. He had forgotten how small they could be. When he had still possessed the strength, he had startled those who stared too long, but that time was days' past. "Leave me, elf. I am not here to amuse you."
"What are you?" The elf's green eyes were sharp.
"I am Sten, of the beresaad. I am qunari." The words were a lie without Asala in his hand, but this bas would not know better.
"Wonder what he did to end up in there." The blonde human looked wary.
"The Revered Mother said he killed an entire family." It was the red-haired priest, who had brought him water each night. Her eyes were blue as the seas of Seheron and filled with pity.
"Is this true?" The elf ran a finger along the lock that held him captive.
Sten nodded once. "Yes."
The blonde man laughed nervously. "Well, that settles that! We're not so desperate as to stoop to recruiting heartless murders, right Elin?"
The elf cocked her head and peered at the lock.
"Elin?" The man's voice was almost a plea.
"Would you fight for me, Sten?" The elf tapped the lock and met his gaze.
The desire for purpose burned inside him, but he feared becoming Tal'Vashoth. "Your cause?"
The elf gave a grim smile. "The Blight."
This was unexpected. "Then you are Grey Wardens." They were less impressive than Sten had imagined, but it was nothing less than what he had expected from this cursed country.
The elf nodded towards the blonde man. "We are. Will you fight?"
The purpose was good and true. The purpose would give him an answer for the Arishok. He would hold a sword in his hand and serve the Qun. "Yes."
*****
Alistair's shield lashed out unexpectedly, hitting Elin's shoulder. She hissed at the jarring pan that ran through her arm. The shield was solid oak and hard enough to bruise. He moved to swing, but she parried, slowing his blade along the curve of her dagger. His balance wavered and she moved for the kill.
The shield blocked her again and she danced back. He was slow to swing, but she could not get through his shield.
Elin dropped into a crouch and began to circle. Alistair watched her warily, shield tucked close and low. It had always been easy to goad Tamlen into attacking her, but Alistair had fallen for none of her tricks.
"Dinner's ready!" Leliana's accent made the words sound like a song.
Alistair relaxed and moved to sheath his sword. There was an opening in his defense, and Elin lunged.
Even with the advantage, she barely managed the killing blow. Three days of fruitless sparring and she had finally gained a victory.
"That wasn't fair." Alistair frowned at the dagger pressed to his splintmail.
Elin shook her head. "We never agreed to stop."
Alistair blinked. "Well, no, we didn't."
She stepped back and tapped her dagger against his shield. "I won."
He laughed. "Well it took you long enough. Duncan would have me flat on my back in half a dozen moves."
Elin gave a small nod. The few times she had sparred with Duncan had inspired doubt in her abilities. "Tell me about him."
Alistair let out a soft sigh and shrugged. "I met him six months ago. I was given to the Chantry when I was young, and had been training to be a Templar. I liked the training, and the books they gave us, but I hated all the rules and the praying and chanting." He gave a small laugh. "They never liked my sense of humor either."
"Anyways, Duncan came to recruit a Templar, and he picked me. I wasn't the best, but he petitioned the Grand Cleric herself to take me anyway. I guess he saw something." Alistair smiled a little. "And I became a Grey Warden. I never knew my father, but Duncan felt like one, all kindness and patience, and - well, you know how he is." The smile dropped and Alistair kicked at the dirt. "Was." He let out a loud breath and shook his head. "I still can't believe he's gone."
Elin nodded and tried to push away the thoughts of her clan before they overwhelmed her. "I know."
"I guess you would. He and the Grey Wardens were the only family I ever really had." Alistair let out a long sigh. "I wish he could have had a proper funeral, you know?"
"I - we never found Tamlen. We sang." The evening air seemed to cool on her skin, and she shivered.
Alistair touched her shoulder lightly. "Has it been long?"
She swallowed hard. "Twelve days before Duncan." It had been twenty-five days since she had left her clan, twenty-eight since she had last seen Tamlen. She needed to stop counting, but when she counted how many days it took to travel, those few extra numbers seemed to add themselves.
Alistair's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Elin. Maker, I feel like an ass, now."
Elin looked up. "Why?"
"Look at you." He gestured. "You've been going at it, all stoic and commanding, and I spent a week moping around feeling sorry for myself. You've had as much to upset you as I have, if not more." Alistair let out a huffing laugh. "Maker, but I'm glad you're with me. I'd have made a mess of the whole thing already."
Gratitude was the last thing she had expected from a shemlen, and the words made her smile. "Ma serranas."
Alistair grinned. "Ah, so you do smile. And speak Elvish! Wonders never cease."
Elin winced. The Elvish seemed to run away from her around him. "Forgive me. I said 'thank you.'"
He shrugged casually. "I figured. Now, can we eat?" He sheathed his sword. "I'm starving."
She nodded towards the fire and ignored the gnawing hunger in her gut. "Go ahead. I need to set traps before it gets too dark." The dried meat they had bought was too scarce to last them to Redcliffe, and there was little game along the road.
Alistair nodded and jogged towards the stew pot, where the others had already gathered.
Elin lingered a few moments before she turned to the tall, pale green grasses along the road. The rabbits would make trails in the delicate grass, and her traps would snare them when they returned to their burrows.
*****"I still don't understand." Elin cocked her head to the side and frowned.
Confusion was not the reaction Alistair had expected. "Don't understand what?"
"Why does your father matter? You are not him." She looked nothing short of bewildered.
That had been made abundantly clear when he was younger. Alistair was not a royal, and he should not get ideas about ruling or anything else. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Look, it matters to humans. When a ruler dies, their oldest child is supposed to take their place. But my father and mother weren't married, so I'm not," Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, "fit to rule."
Elin's expression suddenly brightened. "Ah, I see. That explains Cailan."
"Yes. Wait, what?" Alistair was fairly certain there was an insult buried in there somewhere. Elin stared at him placidly. He cleared his throat. "Anyways, that's it. Just keep thinking of me as the idiot who managed not to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."
She crossed her arms and gave him an unhappy look. "And what of me?"
"You're why we have a chance." He was not proud of the way he had acted after Ostagar, and thinking about it still made him angry. The small bit of hope he had lay in Elin. The mere thought of leading terrified him.
Her green eyes searched his face a moment before she spoke. "You aren't an idiot."
Alistair laughed nervously. The last time a woman complimented him, she had gotten grabby. He was never setting foot inside the Pearl again. Ever. "I'm not so sure, but thanks."
Elin shook her head and muttered something he couldn't understand.
He decided it was for the better.
*****
Chapter 4: Isala Sa'falon
The arrows were useless against the skeletal corpses, but the village men continued to fire. Elin wondered how any of them had managed to survive. .
Her daggers were little better. The blades slid off the exposed bones, and the only thing that seemed to kill them was a smashed skull.
Elin ducked under a clumsy swing and slashed at the creature's knees. It stumbled forward and fell. She stepped towards it and kicked at its head. The skull crunched under the heel of her boot.
A twang of bowstrings was followed by the clatter of iron on bone. None of the walking corpses fell.
"No more arrows! Crush their skulls!" Elin's voice was lost in the din of battle, and none of Redcliffe's men obeyed. She let out a frustrated cry and lashed out at another corpse as it staggered towards her.
"Bows down! Get out your weapons and go for the head!" Murdock's rough voice cut through the cacophony of groans and yells.
The men were slow to obey at first, but as the battle wore on, the arrows that flew were fewer in number.
After what felt like hours, the last corpse fell. The men still left standing let out a few weary cheers.
Elin wiped the sweat and blood from her brow and stared at the castle across the lake.
******
The light on the water made her head ache, and the nasty hit she had taken from Teagan did little to help.
A large shadow blocked the sun. "This is a diversion."
Elin pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "It is not."
"We wasted time at the village, and now we waste time saving a boy." Sten let out a loud, disapproving huff. "We are supposed to be ending the Blight."
"We have treaties with the mages. This is quicker than walking" She could forgive the qunari's lack of faith so long as he continued to follow.
"And what if they do no honor them? They are mages, little better than animals. I am not impressed, Warden."
Elin looked up to find Sten glowering at her with those odd violet eyes. "I care little about impressing you." She had a duty to her clan, even if the Keeper had sent her away. She would fight darkspawn to keep them safe.
Sten grunted in a way that was nearly a growl. "So I see."
Elin closed her eyes again and focused on the comforting rock of the boat. The back and forth movement felt much like an aravel, and the creaking of wood deepened the familiar sensation. It almost felt like home.
*****
Alistair could sense the thinness of the veil and the distant hum of power in the levels above. The Tower itself made the hairs on his neck stand on end. If he were perfectly honest with Elin, he would admit preferring to stay on this side of the massive iron doors that led to the rest of the Tower.
Despite Greagoir's annoyed protests, she had not been swayed. "I have a treaty."
Every crease in Greagoir's face deepened in dismay as he towered over Elin. "They have killed most of my men. You would recruit them as allies?"
"Yes." The evenness in Elin's tone unnerved Alistair.
Greagoir sighed heavily and shook his head. "Can you at least tell me why?"
"I fight the Blight. I need the strongest army." Elin opened her mouth as if she were going to continue, but she suddenly stopped as Greagoir's face grew dark.
Alistair knew why she wanted the mages over the Templars: the mages had proven stronger.
The chill that spread along Alistair's skin had nothing to do with magic
.
*****
"Stop acting like a child. Is this not what you want? To think the world is safe?" The thing that was not Duncan smiled at her, but there was no life in its eyes.
"No. Halam sahlin." Elin drew her blades and hoped the thing was less skilled than the true Duncan had been.
The lifeless eyes glittered dangerously. "Then you will die."
*****
Elin scrubbed away the tears that stung her eyes as Leliana disappeared. Massive statues twisted and turned back on themselves in fractured pieces that shattered her sense of direction. The landscape shimmered at the edges of her vision and everything was cast in a sickly yellow pallor that made her skin crawl. It was worse when she had to shift shape. She was too large or too small, and the sudden rush of magic in the tall, thin body shocked her to the core. It was too much power with no control, and only the slightest half-rotted memory of how it could be used.
But the worst was the others' dream traps. Each time she had to pull them away from their pity or their fantasy or their stubbornness. Each time she had to fight. Each time left her shaken and exhausted.
The pedestal shimmered blue as she touched the edges and snaking black lines raced towards the center of the intricate design. A new eight-pointed star shimmered in the center as the delicate glyphs ringing the star pulsed as though they were alive.
Elin touched a finger to the final star.
The Fade shifted.
*****
Alistair sipped at his ale and sighed happily. The inn was small, but the food was good, and it was better than spending the night at the Tower while the mages prepared for Connor's ritual. The silvers spent would be more than worth it. Alistair stretched and found himself glad they had a night on real beds.
"Care for another drink?" The dwarf serving him smiled.
Alistair shook his head. "Nah, I've had plenty. Going to get a bit of fresh air." The common room was hot and loud, and the regulars grumbled as they squeezed in around strangers.
He stepped out the door to find the moon rising over the smooth, glassy surface of the lake. The Tower was outlined prettily in the silvery light and he could almost forget the blood-stained chambers inside.
A small figure was crouched near the shore and Alistair moved towards it. As he grew closer, he saw one pointed ear outlined in the moonlight. "Elin?"
She craned her neck to look at him.
Alistair rolled his shoulders and tried to act casual as he moved to sit by her. His memory of the Fade made him blush. "The lake is pretty, isn't it?"
"Yes." She turned her gaze back to the water and drew her knees to her chest.
"Are you okay?" The odd strangeness that had clung to him in the Fade had disappeared shortly after he woke up, but Elin had been pale and drawn even when they left the Tower.
Elin rested her chin on her knees. "I'm fine."
Alistair scrubbed a hand through his hair. He did not know how anyone could come through that ordeal without feeling something. "I know I'm not Dalish, but I am another Grey Warden. You don't have to hide everything from me." He leaned back on his elbows and sighed. "Are you fine? Really?"
The night air was still for a long while, and Alistair began to wonder if he had pushed too far. He had no idea if he was being rude, or if she would not say anything because he was human, or not serious enough.
"No." Elin stretched out her legs and flexed her feet. "I'm not."
"Do you want to talk?" Alistair regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Elin never wanted to talk.
She shifted a little closer and shrugged. "I - yes." Elin gave him a small half-smile. "I'd like that."