[Short Fic] 100 Days: Sixth Sense [FemDalishPC/Zevran]
Crossposted in zevran, dragon_age, swooping_is_bad
Title: 100 Days: 035. Sixth Sense
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Pairing: FemPC/Zevran (Dalish), FemPC&Everyone
Challenge Word: "035. Sixth Sense"
Summary: The Mage Circle has been saved, and the Gray Wardens are allowed to stay the evening before returning to Redcliffe. Zevran's nightmare has left him shaken and he doesn't feel very comfortable staying in a place that can see him so clearly...
Note: The 2nd or 3rd story in my 100 Days fic challenge for myself. I wanted to post this here first before I posted it on my ff.net page so I can get any feedback that might help me make sure this isn't crap. So please, feedback away. Cause either I go with this or I start going out of story order and posting something that happens in the middle of the story just to go in number order. *lol* This is also a little AU, timeline wise and magic wise, some of you might notice, but I'm playing with a few things that weren't explored, especially Elven Magic. I'll leave it at that lest I be spoilery.
You can find the first part of the story here. And the Summary goes as this: Lyna of the Dalish clan Mahariel has been ripped away from everything she's ever known to save her life and soon a world of others from the taint of the Darkspawn and the Archdemon Urthemiel. It will take a handsome assassin to lead her back home.
It was dusk when Zevran had returned from the baths to finish packing. They would be leaving the Mage Circle in the morning and he still needed to square away what provisions the Mages had given him. There had been few spare clothes, food, and extras that were salvageable, but they were insistent.
He was grateful, but felt uneasy about staying any longer in the tower. Something felt as if it were searching him out. It was a desperate nagging that pulled at his psyche and he wished it would go away, lest he search it out himself and rid the pest.
“Ser?” A girl’s voice startled him suddenly, a rare feat for non-assassins.
He turned to find several Elven apprentices, youths of all ages, looking as though they hadn’t left each other’s sides for days.
“Yes?” Zevran tried to make himself say more, anything to break the cold fear welling up in his stomach, but their familiar faces somehow shut him off.
“It’s good to see you haven’t lost your tie to the Roots, children.” Lyna replied, appearing beside him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come here.”
She motioned for them to come to her and they leapt into action, tears pouring down their faces as they wrapped arms around her in any way possible. Zevran kept back, surprised by her sudden serene nature. She clutched a child’s head, resting hers on its matted red hair. She caught his eye and frowned, the feeling of dread threatening to burn a hole in his stomach. His entire being screamed for him to runaway, to get as far away from such an emotional display lest he be moved in any way. It was a part of his training. A part of how he had survived for so many years.
It had been so long since he had seen anyone show such affection for complete strangers.
Lyna’s head rose up and she stood straight, the children seeming to regain their composure. She reached out and took one of the older apprentices, barely seventeen years of age, by the shoulders. The young man’s eyes held back enough pain to bring about demons that very moment, and it made Zevran shudder as the Gray Warden placed a kiss on his forehead, speaking a prayer against her mark.
“Mythal and Elgar'nan guide thee and ease your loss. May Falon'Din bring you to her in your passing. Dirthamen send his ravens Fear and Deceit to those who took her from you.” She pulled back, her hands clutching his face. “Lethallin, it is up to you to unite your people here. Mage or not, you are still of Elven blood. We must stand strong or we will never have the strength to raise Elvhenan again. Do you hear me child?”
He nodded, the strain in his face ebbing away with every breath. “I will, Gray Warden. I will.”
“You all will rise above this cage and root again, I swear it. Gods bless you and find you in the Beyond. Be wary of Fen’Harel, he will trick you if you stray. So keep your clan safe, Lethallin. Don’t let this happen again.” She let her hands fall and looked around at the young faces surrounding her. “You are clan, my brethren. No matter if you hailed from the Alienages or were stolen from the Dalish. Mythal protect you, and I hope to return to see you again, wise as you are brilliant. Understand?”
“Yes, Gray Warden!” They said in unison, their spirits lifted. It was as if a dark mist had faded and the firelight above their heads glowed brighter.
She waved them away with a smile that hid a softness rarely seen in battle. “Go, come back before supper, and I will tell you of your Pantheon and the way of your people.”
The children ran off, their steps lighter than before. It left him shaking, but he clenched his fists to hold it back the best he could.
When they were alone in the hallway, the hum of silence deafening, Lyna turned to him and closed the distance between them. Before he could comment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clutched his head. “Breath deep and close your eyes. Think of a forest clearing…”
Despite himself, he did as he was told, relaxing as her body pressed against his. A weight was melting away and it felt as if Lyna was sifting through him. She was touching something he wasn’t ready to give and his hands unconsciously clutched at her hips, squeezing them with a groan.
For a moment he saw the clearing and Lyna’s calm, quiet face, but somewhere in her Beyond there was something watching. They were too close to it all. All the magic in the air was affecting any sense of calm he might have gotten from Elven magic. It scared him, whatever it was she was doing…
And then it was gone. The shake, the feeling of dread - it had vanished with the wolf at his back.
Her body fell away from his before he realized his eyes were still closed and she was staring up at him. Zevran quickly hid right before her eyes, offering her a familiar smirk to ease her mind.
“If you are not careful, my dear Gray Warden, the Templar’s will lock you up too.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in close. “You’ll have to teach me that trick later.”
“You already know it, Lethallin. We are all connected…” Lyna frown, her eyes tired and full of a want he couldn’t place.
Suddenly, boots sounded heavily against the stone floors before Sten appeared behind Lyna. “Warden, the mages are offering food. They command your presence.”
Her eyes lingered on his before she turned and smiled at Sten. “I’ll be right there. Make sure Alistair doesn’t boil anything.”
As Sten disappeared back down the hallway, Lyna reached out and lightly grasped his hand. He was surprised that it shuddered like his had earlier.
“Children are louder than their elders.” She explained. “That’s why we can sense them from miles away. I didn’t want you to suffer, especially not after such a nightmare.”
Her hand fell away and she turned away, leaving him to watch as her hand visibly shook from the cold dread he once felt.
Title: 100 Days: 035. Sixth Sense
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Pairing: FemPC/Zevran (Dalish), FemPC&Everyone
Challenge Word: "035. Sixth Sense"
Summary: The Mage Circle has been saved, and the Gray Wardens are allowed to stay the evening before returning to Redcliffe. Zevran's nightmare has left him shaken and he doesn't feel very comfortable staying in a place that can see him so clearly...
Note: The 2nd or 3rd story in my 100 Days fic challenge for myself. I wanted to post this here first before I posted it on my ff.net page so I can get any feedback that might help me make sure this isn't crap. So please, feedback away. Cause either I go with this or I start going out of story order and posting something that happens in the middle of the story just to go in number order. *lol* This is also a little AU, timeline wise and magic wise, some of you might notice, but I'm playing with a few things that weren't explored, especially Elven Magic. I'll leave it at that lest I be spoilery.
You can find the first part of the story here. And the Summary goes as this: Lyna of the Dalish clan Mahariel has been ripped away from everything she's ever known to save her life and soon a world of others from the taint of the Darkspawn and the Archdemon Urthemiel. It will take a handsome assassin to lead her back home.
It was dusk when Zevran had returned from the baths to finish packing. They would be leaving the Mage Circle in the morning and he still needed to square away what provisions the Mages had given him. There had been few spare clothes, food, and extras that were salvageable, but they were insistent.
He was grateful, but felt uneasy about staying any longer in the tower. Something felt as if it were searching him out. It was a desperate nagging that pulled at his psyche and he wished it would go away, lest he search it out himself and rid the pest.
“Ser?” A girl’s voice startled him suddenly, a rare feat for non-assassins.
He turned to find several Elven apprentices, youths of all ages, looking as though they hadn’t left each other’s sides for days.
“Yes?” Zevran tried to make himself say more, anything to break the cold fear welling up in his stomach, but their familiar faces somehow shut him off.
“It’s good to see you haven’t lost your tie to the Roots, children.” Lyna replied, appearing beside him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come here.”
She motioned for them to come to her and they leapt into action, tears pouring down their faces as they wrapped arms around her in any way possible. Zevran kept back, surprised by her sudden serene nature. She clutched a child’s head, resting hers on its matted red hair. She caught his eye and frowned, the feeling of dread threatening to burn a hole in his stomach. His entire being screamed for him to runaway, to get as far away from such an emotional display lest he be moved in any way. It was a part of his training. A part of how he had survived for so many years.
It had been so long since he had seen anyone show such affection for complete strangers.
Lyna’s head rose up and she stood straight, the children seeming to regain their composure. She reached out and took one of the older apprentices, barely seventeen years of age, by the shoulders. The young man’s eyes held back enough pain to bring about demons that very moment, and it made Zevran shudder as the Gray Warden placed a kiss on his forehead, speaking a prayer against her mark.
“Mythal and Elgar'nan guide thee and ease your loss. May Falon'Din bring you to her in your passing. Dirthamen send his ravens Fear and Deceit to those who took her from you.” She pulled back, her hands clutching his face. “Lethallin, it is up to you to unite your people here. Mage or not, you are still of Elven blood. We must stand strong or we will never have the strength to raise Elvhenan again. Do you hear me child?”
He nodded, the strain in his face ebbing away with every breath. “I will, Gray Warden. I will.”
“You all will rise above this cage and root again, I swear it. Gods bless you and find you in the Beyond. Be wary of Fen’Harel, he will trick you if you stray. So keep your clan safe, Lethallin. Don’t let this happen again.” She let her hands fall and looked around at the young faces surrounding her. “You are clan, my brethren. No matter if you hailed from the Alienages or were stolen from the Dalish. Mythal protect you, and I hope to return to see you again, wise as you are brilliant. Understand?”
“Yes, Gray Warden!” They said in unison, their spirits lifted. It was as if a dark mist had faded and the firelight above their heads glowed brighter.
She waved them away with a smile that hid a softness rarely seen in battle. “Go, come back before supper, and I will tell you of your Pantheon and the way of your people.”
The children ran off, their steps lighter than before. It left him shaking, but he clenched his fists to hold it back the best he could.
When they were alone in the hallway, the hum of silence deafening, Lyna turned to him and closed the distance between them. Before he could comment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clutched his head. “Breath deep and close your eyes. Think of a forest clearing…”
Despite himself, he did as he was told, relaxing as her body pressed against his. A weight was melting away and it felt as if Lyna was sifting through him. She was touching something he wasn’t ready to give and his hands unconsciously clutched at her hips, squeezing them with a groan.
For a moment he saw the clearing and Lyna’s calm, quiet face, but somewhere in her Beyond there was something watching. They were too close to it all. All the magic in the air was affecting any sense of calm he might have gotten from Elven magic. It scared him, whatever it was she was doing…
And then it was gone. The shake, the feeling of dread - it had vanished with the wolf at his back.
Her body fell away from his before he realized his eyes were still closed and she was staring up at him. Zevran quickly hid right before her eyes, offering her a familiar smirk to ease her mind.
“If you are not careful, my dear Gray Warden, the Templar’s will lock you up too.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in close. “You’ll have to teach me that trick later.”
“You already know it, Lethallin. We are all connected…” Lyna frown, her eyes tired and full of a want he couldn’t place.
Suddenly, boots sounded heavily against the stone floors before Sten appeared behind Lyna. “Warden, the mages are offering food. They command your presence.”
Her eyes lingered on his before she turned and smiled at Sten. “I’ll be right there. Make sure Alistair doesn’t boil anything.”
As Sten disappeared back down the hallway, Lyna reached out and lightly grasped his hand. He was surprised that it shuddered like his had earlier.
“Children are louder than their elders.” She explained. “That’s why we can sense them from miles away. I didn’t want you to suffer, especially not after such a nightmare.”
Her hand fell away and she turned away, leaving him to watch as her hand visibly shook from the cold dread he once felt.