Disclaimer: Bioware and EA own Dragon Age and its characters. I own a can of Five Alive.
A/N: Hullo all! What would it be like being Tranquil and a Warden? Is such a thing possible? Follow me and you'll see!
Send a heartbeat to
The void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
For now we stand alone
The world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate
With no more to hate
~The Beginning is the End is the Beginning – Smashing Pumpkins~
"Welcome to the magical stockroom. My name is Solona, how can I be of service?" The greeting spilled from her lips just as it always did; just as it had for the past two weeks. The mage standing before her seemed…what was the word? She struggled to find the appropriate term to describe the mage's countenance. Saddened. Distraught. Troubled. All of these things.
"Oh Sol, how could they do this to you? It's not fair! Jowan is the one to blame, and yet they took it out on you…" the mage's eyes were brimming with tears. Solona remembered her from her time as an apprentice. "Aren't you angry?"
"No, I am not. I feel nothing. It is not an unpleasant sensation, and you needn't concern yourself," Solona replied. She watched as the mage's lip trembled. A tell-tale sign that the girl would start to weep. Solona's expression remained impassive.
"What did it feel like?" the mage suddenly asked. "When they…did it. Did it hurt?"
"It felt as though I had walked through a wall of flames. When I emerged on the other side, a sudden clarity took hold. I am no longer blinded by emotions. Everything makes sense."
The mage tilted her head to one side, her expression was that of…confusion? Curiosity? Uncertainty? All of these things.
"Strange," the mage said. "Owain compared it to being submerged in ice cold water. I wonder if it's different for everyone."
"I do not know," Solona replied automatically.
"Kara! Stop harassing the poor girl. She is obviously busy." A new person entered the stockroom. The First Enchanter.
"Welcome to the magical stockroom. My name is Solona, how can I be of service?"
The First Enchanter chuckled. "Yes, my dear. I am well aware of who you are. There is nothing that I require, though I bring news. You will be travelling to Ostagar to assist with the king's battle against the darkspawn. They are desperate for help, and I believe it will be most beneficial for you. You will be able to learn from the other Tranquils."
"As you wish," Solona replied. "I shall gather my belongings."
The First Enchanter smiled at her. "One of the templars has already done so. Do you remember Cullen?"
"Yes."
"He will escort you to the carriage that will take you to Ostagar. He is waiting by your chambers," the First Enchanter explained.
"I will seek him out immediately," Solona said.
The young templar was waiting for her, just as the First Enchanter had said he would be. Solona approached him, and he seemed to shift uncomfortably. "I was told that you will be escorting me to the carriage."
"Y-yes, yes I am." His gaze slid from her eyes, to her lips. He seemed to be battling some sort of inner struggle. Solona simply continued to watch him. He scratched the back of his neck. "How are you?"
"I am well," she replied. "My belongings are in my chambers?"
Cullen nodded, holding the door open for her. She passed through and took note of the large sack sitting on her bed. She heard the door close.
"It isn't right, what they did to you. You had so much talent…so much passion. You were always so confident," he murmured softly. Solona turned to him. He was standing mere inches away from her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Do you feel anything?"
"No."
He leaned forward, his lips pressed against hers. She made no sign of moving. He began to run his fingers through her thick ginger hair. Solona stood motionless. He pulled away, his eyes a mixture of sadness and desire. "I've always wanted to do that." She continued to watch him. "I finally gather the courage to do it, and you don't feel anything. How's that for irony?"
"I do not know."
Cullen sighed and shook his head. "I wish you did…" he whispered. He slung her bag over his shoulder and walked her to the front gates.
~*O*~*O*~
"I'm not sure why Irving sent you here. It's not as though you'll be able to do anything," the brown haired mage complained. "A Tranquil that has yet to learn how to fold lyrium? You're practically useless."
Solona had arrived in Ostagar that morning. The area was utterly chaotic. Guards, messengers and warriors ran from one side of the ruins to the other. The air was ripe with anticipation for the upcoming battle. She had found her way to the mages' encampment easily enough. The other Tranquils busied themselves with enchanting armour and performing other such tasks. Solona stood by and watched them work, taking in the process they used. It was the only way to learn. Then the rather surly brown haired mage had set his sights on her. From then on he'd been pestering her. Solona didn't mind, she simply stood and listened to his tirade. The brown haired mage had taken an immediate disliking to her. Solona did not understand his animosity. "The First Enchanter told me that I was to observe the other Tranquils and learn from them."
"That doesn't help me in the slightest!" He sighed exasperatedly. "What am I to do with a useless Tranquil?"
"Now is that any way to speak to a lady?"
Solona's eyes shifted to the approaching newcomer. She recognized him. The Grey Warden who visited the Tower just before she'd been made Tranquil. He chased off the mage and smiled at her warmly. "I apologize, but I am unfamiliar with the process one must undergo when becoming Tranquil. Do you remember me?"
"Yes. You are Duncan of the Grey Wardens. You conscripted me after I attempted to help Jowan escape his fate of becoming Tranquil," Solona said.
Something flashed behind Duncan's eyes. Anger? "And yet the Knight-Commander saw fit to make you Tranquil despite the fact that I had conscripted you. I assure you, his actions will not go unpunished," the Warden intoned darkly. Solona had no response. "Regardless, the conscription stands, and you must undergo the Joining process. I have documents from the First Enchanter that confirm what I've just told you." He handed Solona a missive bearing the First Enchanter's seal. She opened it and briefly scanned the note. It was as the Grey Warden had explained. She was to undergo the Joining. "Follow me, Solona. We will go to the Grey Warden camp and wait for the other recruits. I imagine you must be extremely confused by this turn of events."
"No, I am not."
Duncan sighed softly. "You ought to be, and the fact that you're not is a travesty in and of itself."
~*O*~*O*~
She watched the fire flicker before her eyes. Duncan had left her to her thoughts after handing her a bowl of stew. She ate it to replenish her energy. She did not savour the taste of the meat, did not feel grateful for Duncan's show of hospitality. She simply watched the fire. After a time, Duncan announced that the other recruits had arrived as well as a junior member of the order, Alistair. She turned, and Alistair inhaled sharply.
"Duncan! You recruited a Tranquil?" he sputtered.
"I had no choice, Alistair. I conscripted her to save her from this fate. Greagoir went behind my back and made her Tranquil despite the conscription." Solona noted that Duncan was struggling to reign in his anger at the Knight-Commander's actions.
"But shouldn't she be back at the Tower? Surely you must know that she cannot survive any form of combat! She'll more than likely perish as soon as a darkspawn engages her."
Duncan folded his arms over his chest. "There is more at work here than you realize, Alistair. Once someone has been conscripted, they are our responsibility. While you and the other two recruits prepare for the Joining, she will stay behind."
"Lucky her," piped up a grizzled looking man in light armour. "What's her name anyway?"
"I am Solona," she replied.
"Where are my manners?" the blond Warden said. "My lady Solona, this is Ser Jory, a knight from Redcliffe."
"How do you do?" greeted the balding knight.
"This here is Daveth, a fellow from Denerim."
"Charmed, milady," Daveth inclined his head toward her.
"And I am Alistair, junior member of the Grey Wardens," he held out his hand and Solona grasped it automatically. Her eyes flickered for a fraction of a second, but Alistair didn't seem to notice. He released her hand and awaited instructions from Duncan. They were to collect darkspawn blood, and retrieve ancient treaties. Solona was hardly paying attention. She had turned back to the campfire. Should she tell one of the mages about what had just happened? Perhaps Duncan? No, more than likely it was a side effect of the Rite of Tranquility. Why else would her heart flutter at the blond Warden's touch?
~*O*~*O*~
What was Duncan thinking, bringing a defenceless Tranquil into the Order? What possible reason could he have? Surely there were ways around the rules of conscription. It seemed incredibly cold to put her life at risk when she was so obviously under qualified. Alistair and the two other recruits were returning from their task. He led the men to the Grey Warden camp, unsure if he should relate the encounter they'd had with Morrigan and her insane mother. He decided that he'd only mention it if one of the other two men brought it up. As they approached the camp, Alistair was once again struck dumb by the Tranquil woman. She was not beautiful in the traditional sense, but there was something about her…the way her rich copper hair hung loosely about her shoulders. His fingers twitched with a desire to run his hands through those tresses. Perhaps it was the way her obsidian eyes coolly assessed everything in her immediate vicinity. It was true, those eyes held no emotion, yet in their brief meeting he could have sworn he saw a faint flicker behind them. She watched as they came to a stop in front of Duncan. He spared a glance in her direction. She was so pale…was it from spending her life inside the Tower? Her alabaster skin and the smattering of freckles across her cheeks seemed to be in direct conflict with the dark colour of her eyes. The contrast was unsettling on one hand, yet utterly alluring on the other.
"Alistair? Did you hear what I said?"
Alistair cleared his throat. "Yes, bring them to the old temple for the ritual. No problem."
The four of them headed to the temple, and Alistair felt his stomach begin to tighten. Would any of the recruits survive? He had high hopes for Jory, despite the fact that he'd shown quite a bit of fear throughout their excursion in the Wilds. Daveth also held his own in battle. It was the Tranquil woman that Alistair was concerned about. She would never survive the Joining. As they reached the platform and waited for Duncan, he couldn't help but strike up a conversation with her. He knew from his time training to be a templar that she wouldn't be the most…animated of women, but he needed to talk to someone, and Jory and Daveth were far too busy bickering with each other.
"So…" he began, his gaze drifting to Solona. "Are you nervous?"
"No, I am not. I am not able to feel nervous," she returned. "You are."
"I am what?" Alistair frowned slightly.
"You are nervous. I read it from your body language," she explained. Her voice, though devoid of emotion, was smooth as silk. It had a startling effect on him. He felt the tension draining from him.
"You'd be nervous too if you knew what I knew," he said dryly.
She craned her neck to look up at him. "No, I wouldn't."
Duncan arrived then, and the big secret was revealed. It was possible that the recruits would not survive the Joining ritual. Jory was terrified. Daveth seemed resolute in his decision to become a Warden, which actually surprised Alistair. Solona was…a blank slate, as always. Alistair spoke the words, and the ritual began. Daveth was first to drink from the chalice. The young rogue screamed, grasping at his throat. He fell to the ground and lay motionless. Duncan glanced up at Alistair and shook his head. Alistair turned his gaze on Solona to gauge her reaction. She looked just as she had before Daveth met his demise. Blank. Alistair's attention snapped to Jory when he realized that the knight had drawn his weapon. The fool! Duncan had to put him down. Blood pooled beneath Jory's corpse, his eyes still wide with astonishment in his death. Alistair looked away. No one will survive the ritual, he thought morosely.
Duncan approached Solona, chalice in hand. Alistair wondered why the Commander of the Ferelden Wardens was even bothering with this…charade. A Tranquil would certainly not be able to withstand the taint.
Solona brought the chalice to her lips. She drank her fill. Alistair waited for her inevitable death. The woman winced, her hand clutched to her forehead. Her breathing became laboured. Her eyes, which had been tightly shut until then, suddenly shot open. Alistair gasped. He had expected to see the familiar milky white that indicated the taint coursed through the woman's veins. Instead, her eyes were onyx. Even Duncan seemed taken aback. What did it mean? Inky pools stared at seemingly nothing. Her eyelids fluttered slightly, yet she did not fall to the ground. Duncan approached her cautiously.
"Solona?" he inquired softly. The woman's dead gaze pinned Duncan in place.
"What manner of beast is this?" she rasped. Her voice was low, guttural. Nothing like it had been before. "What have you sent me Warden? A trick? My undoing? She seeks to steal a part of me!" Solona's teeth were clenched together. Layers of voices had joined together when she next spoke. "Fine, take it if you must! But know that this world will soon be mine to command." All at once, Solona fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.
Alistair felt a slight trickling on both sides of his neck. He reached up with one hand. He glanced down at his fingers. They were covered in blood. It took him a moment to identify the source of the blood. It came from his ears. Alistair glanced at Duncan and saw that his ears bled as well.
Duncan knelt over Solona's unmoving body. "Is she dead?" Alistair asked.
He shook his head. "She lives." His expression was solemn. Alistair was almost too afraid to approach Solona's form. He mustered his courage and went over to the pair. Solona began to stir. Her eyes opened slowly. Alistair let out a sigh of relief when he saw that they were the same obsidian hue that they'd been upon their first meeting.
"It is done," Duncan intoned. "Welcome." They helped her to her feet. "How do you feel?" Duncan asked.
"I am fine," she replied.
No surprise there, Alistair thought wryly. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Did you have dreams? I had dreams after my Joining."
"I am Tranquil," Solona said. "We are cut off from the Fade. We do not dream."
Alistair frowned. He saw it again. The flicker behind her eyes. "Oh. Well, I suppose that's fortunate it its own way," he said lamely.
Solona glanced up at him, her gaze revealing nothing. "That is the problem. Just now. I did dream. What does that mean?"
For once, Alistair was at a loss for words. He looked to Duncan for an answer. The senior Warden had none.
