Disclaimer: The epic Dragon Age series, it's characters, places, etc.. I simply (and depressingly) own no rights to it (a.k.a. IT'S NOT MINE... I'd love to write with the writers of it though!) BioWare owns it all! ALL HAIL BioWare!

Claimer: The character Devarra Lilium Amell is mine! Let's make this simple and say: "Please, do not take my character and put her in ANYTHING of yours without my permission and / or request of you placing her there. Otherwise, you have a death wish, in which I shall happily comply."

A/N: Phew, that's done. So, this a DA:O-A ROMANCE fic. Expect fluffiness. It is based loosely (and when I say loosely, I mean that some parts have been twisted to fit my evil, fan regime from… down bellow) off of the Awakening (and Origins! I almost forgot!) story in some places, and others it is actually very close to the story! This is rated MMM (for Magical, Magnificent, and Mature... well, scratch the second... not so sure about that... and maybe the last one as well, but I'd rather play it safe) and is something that I've been plotting since my third time through Awakening, but have been too lazy to write. I'll try to avoid putting up A/N and put up DC and C every four chapters as a reminder (if you're wondering "Why not five?" I'll tell you right now it's because I dislike that number). So, right now I'm going to tell that this story is- wait... I'm not telling you a thing... Damn! Am I even sure what I'm going to do? Hmm...

Oh well, here's the first chapter.

Lyudi Invalidy

- Disabled People / Invalid People -

Part I:

Poteryannyh ne zhut
Pechal'nyh ne hotyat
Takiye ne zhivut
Ih topyat kak kotyat

(-*_*-*_*-_*)

No one waits for the lost
No one wants the sad
These people don't live
They drown like kittens

- T.A.T.U. - "Lyudi Invalidy"

Prologue I:

It was a simple matter.
Really, it was. There was no need for anyone to comfort her; There was no need for anyone to understand what she was going through.

Not like anyone would give a damn about her feelings anyway.
This was true. They could smile and shed the salty liquid that drained from one's eyes when they were sad with her and tell her everything was going to be alright, but she knew they didn't care. She didn't expect them to. Maker, she had only been seven- her seventh birthday, actually- when her family had handed her over to the Circle of Magi without any emotion except for possibly fear. She had been plenty old to understand what was going on, and they couldn't even act like they cared about their daughter being taken away.

That's the day she understood...
'No. That's the day I should have understood. No one gives a damn about me. And if they don't give a damn about me, why, by Andraste, would they give a damn about him.' Devarra Lilium Amell thought bitterly, now sitting alone on the shores of Redcliffe, thirteen years and twelve days since she had been taken to the Circle after she was discovered to have magical talent. She was no longer mourning what had happened then, though. Much had happened in those thirteen years and twelve days since. And what had happened twelve days ago, on her first birthday free of the Circle in thirteen years?

She had been broken into a million pieces, covered in blood and denying the fact that he was cold- dead and gone, never to make her smile again...

She looked up from her pale hands holding something wrapped in black velvet in her lap- no, wait, not she. Devarra's eyes no longer saw by themselves ever since a few months after she had been taken to the Circle. A accident, a magical one, had robbed her of her sight. Normally, Devarra's eyes just appeared to be a unnaturally pale shade of green, but no one had seen on the inside during those first few days of black. Then, suddenly, she could see again.

A spirit- a actual spirit, no demon, this Devarra was positive of- had taken pity on her. It had merged with her, and the spirit served as her eyes for just the chance to understand why demons wanted this world so much. It just wanted to see what the world outside of the Fade was like. It never tried anything other then that, something she had to explain over and over again to the templars and the First Enchanter.

At the time that Irving had believed her and had not allowed the templars to kill her or put her through the Rite of Tranquility, she had been thankful. Now... now Devarra wished she had died so she would have never let these events happen to her. So she would've never had a chance to have broken free of the tower.

She stared at the body, lying on the stone platform. They'd be burning the body, later, when it was darker out, and then taking the ashes to Weisshaupt. While others mourned the death of the hero Alistair, the Grey Warden who made the killing blow against the Archdemon and in turn ended his own life, Devarra only saw a empty shell, taunting the memory of the man. She thought about grabbing a torch when people were going into the Chantry to "mourn" and burn the carcass right then and there. It would be better then this farce, worse by far then the games and pranks she would play on the templars in the tower with the assistance of Jowan up until she learned the truth about her "best friend" and had become a Grey Warden... and everything changed...

A wave of emotion struck her suddenly as she lurked upon the past, pain and regret tinging through her as it did. "Maker, Devarra. This isn't you - this isn't me." She said to herself, feeling a slight bit of horror about her coldness. But it struck her again, and her lips formed into a tight line.

Again, Devarra thought about burning the body herself. She brought her knees up to her face, making herself look even more small for a human woman, staring at the body from where she sat, thinking...

Quickly, she stood up, striding to the body. Devarra thought about grabbing a torch and lighting it manually, but that would take too long. Too much of a chance for people to notice what she was going to do.

She couldn't be here any longer- she wanted out and away from these people and no longer to deal with them; to go back home and see it be reconstructed. She felt the warmth of the magical flames twist around her fingers, and she let them go upon the body, taking in the sight of his face once more before the flames engulfed Alistair's body. Salty liquid drained from her eyes, but Devarra never really noticed it, nor did she care. She broke the flame when she was sure the body was ablaze, glaring up at the sky for several seconds, before her fingers that were still twisted around the mysterious thing wrapped in black velvet groaned in complaint from her vice grip upon the object.

Devarra threw it into the fire, the sound of glass shattering and the magical flames flaring in some place from the lyrium sparking in them, some of the fire even flickering up shades of blue and purple because of it. She turned and walked away, only sparing one glance back at the burning body with a cold, empty stare. She knew she could see something else besides flesh, armor, lyrium, and glass burning in the fire. She could see the red petals of a rose shriveling and wilting away, and she turned away from it without a second thought...

Where was home, exactly? Not the Circle, of course not. What fool who had been trapped in a pretty cage would go back into it, besides a fool bird? No, she was no bird, and no fool. Devarra Lilium Amell was going to her real home- her home before the templars had dragged her away. She might even decide to go by her original family name instead of the stupid one she had been given when she had been brought to the Circle tower so no one knew who her real parents were.

Devarra Lilium Cousland.

She wasn't sure if she could get used to the sound of that. She had been Amell for so many years. But Devarra liked it... and no one was going to stop her from using it as she left Redcliffe and began to navigate her way back to her true home in Highever- to help rebuild besides others who weren't aware of who she really was. And maybe, just maybe, she would attempt to make herself identified by the only other surviving member of the Cousland family- the only known survivor. Did her older brother Fergus know he had a little sister- did he still remember her like she remembered them? Devarra had been there for seven years, and there had been three years between the two... he obviously had to.

She was free from her obligations to those others those, now. Devarra would not look back now, no matter what. She wouldn't return to the Wardens, even when her Calling came. She'd attempt to know her blood family again, to make her amends for having magic. Maybe things would change, and she would no longer feel as angry and cold as she did right now...

Devarra doubted it as she thought about her past.