HEY GUYSSS!

I'm back! I started doing some more fanfic writing a couple years ago. And this month I decided I wanted to publish, again. I want to be more active in my fandom and I sort of made this New Years resolution to be more open about my writing. So here is my part in that.

With Love,
-Pris

A Walk Through the Forrest

The land is green. The trees are not wanting. They reach to the sky. Their branches want more. Their fruit shows blossoms. Their trunks are wide. She wanders amongst them. Her hands are stretched wide. She has never witnessed such greenery. Flower petals touch her fingertips. Stems graze her palms. The sunlight skims her wrists. The songs of birds and the chatter of fennecs echo through the trees.

Everything Falls Silent

But then all falls still. Her footsteps cease. The air grows thin. The temperature falls. There is a sudden breeze. It brings grey clouds and a stench she is familiar with. The word leaves her and she cannot remember precisely the thought she seeks. Trying to grasp it, she ventures forward, hoping the smell will trigger a memory. It does. And the image becomes clearer. An image of tooth and claw. An image of blood. An image of thick fur and the sound of a haunting voice.

The Wolves are Feeding

The Wolves. She will not fall back. Not now. They will turn on her. They know she is present. One lifts his giant head and his yellow eyes pierce through hers. Her fists clench. Their fur is not black like the ones back home. They are white. They are white and stained with blood. The wolf licks his lips before lowering his head. She cannot look any longer. The pool of blood rippling was too much. The sound of their teeth made her head ache. A sudden crunch sounded as a wolf shook his head and she watched a leg detach from the body. A gasp escaped her lips. And the wolves lifted their heads.

Feeding on a Halla

She saw beneath them was once a creature of light grey fur. It would have been unrecognizable if it were not for the horns. The wolves were feeding on a halla. Terror took over as her body turned cold. Before the hair began to rise, her wits became her. And she remembered where she was. The wolves would not venture into the forest for a halla. They remain in the plain where the larger herds are known to graze. For a pack of this number to take down a large, stronger member of a heard would mean the wolves would have to be cunning. They would have to be…

Their Leader Rises

The head of their leader peaks above them all. But their leader is no animal. The alpha rises on two legs. And his face is familiar. Breathing becomes more difficult and the hairs on the back of her neck that yielded moments before now stood on end. Her fists are clenched tighter and pierce the center of her palms. He is dressed in white clothing embroidered in gold. His brow is stern and his eyes are cold. His nose is just as she remembers, prominent. And his lips…

His Lips Are Covered in Blood

His lips are covered in blood. The pack proceeds to ignore her, resuming their crunching sounds as they enjoyed their feast. But he… he gazes at her. He watched for her reaction. Though there was none, she still felt him pry. He lifts his hand to his jaw and guides it down the line until he reaches his mouth. He uses the back of his hand to wipe blood. But he only smears it. And as he opens his mouth very slightly, more blood comes pouring out. It drops down his chin. Down his hand. Down his arm. And stains his clothes.

He Smiles

And then he smiles. He smiles so wickedly, so perversely, she let's out a scream. Only the beginnings of it make it out of her mouth. She feels like she heard it, even if it was muffled. She can feel it vibrating through her body. But the only thing she truly feels is the darkness surrounding her as she falls through the earth. And the only thing she sees is his smile full of red, a streak of blood tracing down to his hand, across the crevice around his palm, and dripping at the peak of his wrist.

Bathed in Blood

The sound of the drop falling is louder than thunder. It's sudden sound causes her to open her eyes. When her surroundings are no longer a blur, she takes a moment to seek out familiar surroundings. But everything in the room is already hers. Perhaps she had fallen asleep moments before. Her hands are no longer in fists, but instead grasp the edge of the porcelain bath. It is warm. But it feels different. It feels thick. It smells strange, unlike any herb she has soaked in before. She looks down. She is soaking in blood. There is no panic, but she questions. Where did the blood come from? Was it the halla? Why was she in the tub?

Those That Follow Surround Her

They appeared as if from nowhere. Their uniform was one of her own, a metal piece in the center chest with an eye baring the rays of the sun. But the scouts and soldiers that approach are members unknown to her. Their faces are simply smudges. They have form, but nothing she can truly make out. She shouts at them, but like before, only the first bit escapes. They reach to their sides and raise wooden buckets above their heads. She does not want to know what is in them. But she has no choice. She is not quick enough. The buckets are dumped into her tub. And golden coins fall onto her body.

The Weight is Crushing

The blood rocks back and forth, spilling onto the floor. She can taste it in her mouth, though she it could be the metal taste from the coins. The weight is crushing. She can feel her spine pressing into the bottom of the porcelain tub. She scratches at the side, but to no avail. She knows she cannot scream. There is no speaking allowed in these realms and her mouth is full of sin. She thrashes, hoping to shake loose. There is a relief of pressure beneath her.

The Tub Must be Cracking

The tub cracks, pulling her through to wherever she must go next. The gold disappears and for a moment, her body is weightless. And then it is cold. So terribly cold. The darkness brightens immediately, but the light is so bright she is forced to close her eyes. They burn and her hands reach out to to map her surroundings. She can feel the edges of the tub and realizes it has broken in half. The cold surfaces she sits on is the earth. She gathers the courage to slowly open her eyes. There is no blood but once again, there is the color of white.

The Color of Snow

The flakes fall from the sky, bringing a tingling sensation to her raised skin. She falls numb and finds it easier than before to walk. Shapes form around her. But they are still difficult to see. They are trees of grey that are tall and thin. It must have been the forest from before. Or perhaps she speculating. She needed to find shelter. She needed a place to think.

A Statue Silhouettes the Horizon

As her eyes adjust, she can make out something in the distance. It is grey, only slightly darker than the landscape. She moves towards it. It is the only thing she has, whether it is of good intent or not. As she draws closer, she knows the shape. The shape of a wolf. But this is a sight she has already seen. Tears fill her eyes. Should she be frightened? Because this is not what she felt. Only sadness. Fen'Harel was watching.

The Shrine of Fen'Harel

Ruins suddenly began to appear around her. She does not recognize them. She does not recognize this place. Or this feeling. She was not sad or afraid. The tears on her face only confused her as her environment began to take shape. As it did, she did not worry that the Betrayer would take her. No… she begged. She prayed silently because she could not speak. She prayed as she reached out with her bare hand. She prayed as she felt her fingertips graze across the snout of wolf's mouth.

And Then He Opened His Eyes

Without warning, as if her prayers were heard, his eyes opened. Not just the two eyes one assumes. His entire face opened with eyes that looked at her. Eyes as black as night. Eyes that were glowing with fumes. Eyes that saw her for what she truly was. Eyes that judged her and knew her crimes. She fell to her knees. This was what she wanted. This is what she prayed for. Then why was she so surprised.

Two Hands Fell Across Her Shoulders

There is a sudden warmth across her chest. Two hands crept across the tops of her shoulders only to rest on the tops of her breast. It pulled her close to something solid, something once again warm. It was comforting. And she could smell something that she knew very well. It was sweet, but strange. Like an incense in a shop she had browsed in long ago. It was ancient. But it was new, like parchment unrolled for the first time. It was Solas.

He Tried to Comfort Her

The statue suddenly disappeared as she turned quickly to face him. Everything disappeared. There was only the two of them standing in a blank space, now. She shoved him. She wanted to tell him he did not belong. She wanted to tell him she did not need his help. She wanted to tell him that she wanted to disappear. But… the words were still not there. The look on his face told her he knew. That was not enough. She screamed. Or… she thought she did. She wanted this to end. She wanted to run away.

"Vhenan"…

But his words were clear. They were so sharp in her ear that she swore she heard them on the edge of the bed. She shot up, the sensation of his breath on her earlobe bringing her heart to an alarming rate. There was no one there. There was only the light of the stars and the moon. The sound of the breeze nestling up to the slightly cracked window in the far end of the room. But there was taste of blood in her mouth from where she bit her cheek in her sleep. She wondered who exactly had visited her that night…