A/N: Hello out there to all you peoples reading this! I've been stabbed with the dagger of impassable writer's block on both Irresitible and Hawke's Crazy Crow-filled Christmas. Grrr! So I'm working on this to maybe free up my mind or something and I hope y'all likes it! Please R&R, it makes me so happy with myself and I get this warm jelly feeling in my heart and... I'll stop now because this sounds kind of creepy.
I can't believe what this crazy human is saying. She promises my sister and I a 'new life'. But does this new life include living in a fancy mansion in Hightown as she says, or will it involve scrubbing the floors of some Tevinter magister? Is this woman going to sell me into slavery or will she actually find me a new life? I can only hope she's no slaver, for accepting her offer may be the only chance at life, for me and my five-year old sister.
My name is Elerath, and I am thirteen. The last I remember, my hair was a beautiful silver-black color, my eyes were a dazzling wolf grey, and my skin was described as 'wintry cream'. I just like to say I had milky skin. I'm sure I've gotten more tan, though, and I haven't had a bath in so long. My hair is probably a knotted, greasy coal-colored mess devoid of all its previous shimmer and shine. I used to be told I was pretty. Now I'm told to get lost.
My sister's name is Maveria. As previously mentioned, she's five, and even covered in grime (who isn't in the alienage?) she's adorable. She has the cutest little lopsided grin that shows all of her surprisingly white teeth. Oh, and her hair! The girl has miles of it! It reaches all the way down to her skinny little knees. Wherever she goes, she has a train of raven hair bouncing around behind her. She's begged me to cut it, but hair cuts are expensive and I won't use my dagger's precious sharpness on things like hair.
We've been orphans since the Blight, when our father died on the ship we took across the ocean. Our Mother supposedly died fighting off a dragon so my worthless Father and my sister could escape the Blight. That's what I was told, at least, by my Father and I learned never to trust him. I don't see why we couldn't have just exiled our Father and stayed with the Dalish, but that is neither here nor there. Truthfully, I'm glad the old bastard's dead and gone.
Maveria is bouncing around and looking up at me with her amethyst purple eyes. I can tell she's trying to convince me to go with this woman, and it's almost working. Almost, but not quite. She doesn't know the dangers of slavers. What if this woman is a slaver? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if Maveria was sold into a lifetime of abuse. Still, this offer of a home, warm food, fresh clothes, and maybe even a bath... it seems so foolish to give all of that up just for caution.
The lady seems to sense my thoughts and she kneels down to me, and looks at me with kind but stern green eyes. I take a moment to reflect on the rarity of bright ginger hair like hers, but my eyes quickly dart to her hands, which she's placing on my shoulders. I jerk away, I didn't mean to, but I did, and I turn my head in shame. I've probably just ruined a perfect chance at life by my stupid actions. The woman behind the ginger-haired lady, a tan woman with black hair and rather large breasts, speaks up then in a smooth and almost purring voice, but also a voice that gives away her sadness and disappointment at not being able to help. She says,"Face the facts, Man-Hands, you've scared the poor child and you can't help her without submission. Scared people don't want to be helped by scary people." The one the big-breasted woman called 'Man-Hands' stands and says "I suppose not" in a voice that almost makes me tremble. She's a little bit scary, I'll admit that, but I also sense she's very kind and gentle to those she wants to help or to her loved ones. They turn to go and I watch them, a deep feeling I recognize well stirring in my gut. That feeling is disappointment. I don't know who I'm disappointed in, maybe me, or those women, or maybe even my sister. The feeling rises up through me in an odd way though, rushing like a river to my mouth where it abruptly stops and coils up. Just as I think it's gone, it returns, and I think I will wretch. I open my mouth to empty my stomach of this feeling the hard way, but instead of bile, a single word rushes out.
"Wait!" I scream, not even realising that I'm screaming, and I'm almost mortified that I have the guts to go around shouting at random humans.
The big-breasted woman turns, grabbing Man-Hands shoulder and almost pulling her along, she comes back and kneels to face me, a rather sincere look pasted on her face. She is trying to feign calmness, but I can tell she's excited.
"Do you want to come with us?" I bite my lip, wanting to hold back my truthful answer, wanting to lie; but the way she looks at me, I just can't. I violently nod my head and rush into her arms, hugging her as tightly as I can. I feel like a foolish little girl and I try to pull away so as not to embarrass myself further, but the lady hugs me back, and it feels good to be hugged. I feel her pick me up and until right at this moment, I didn't realise how skinny and weightless I really am. She holds me gently, and speaks to me in her purring voice,
"I'm Isabela. That's Aveline. What's your name, sweet thing?" I feel this odd drowsiness coming over me.
"I'm Elerath. Ella, if my real name is too formal for you. And the girl bouncing around, oh, what was her name, oh yeah, Aveline, is my sister, Maveria." I yawned and felt my eyes getting heavy as Isabela shifted me so both her and I were more comfortable.
We have been walking for what seems like ages. I'm only kept awake by the bouncing as Isabela walks. Now my vision is getting fuzzy... I think I'll ignore the bouncing and take a little nap.
A/N #2: QUICK EVERYONE! Post a DA story! ME is beating us in fanfic number! WE MUST REMAIN VIGILANT IN THIS HOUR OF NEED! WRITERS QUICK POST YOUR STORIES!