An experiment. Let me know what you guys think so I know if I should continue.


It was freezing.

The fact immediately made my body tense up, neck bending and body coiling in on itself. My toes curled, fingers brushing against something unpleasant.

It was supposed to be summer. Sun blinding, sweat inducing, blistering heat summer. Why is it so cold?

My ears didn't pick up the sound of electronic whirring, so my weak-ass theory was busted. Instead, I found it very interesting when there was something else in place. Trickling water, irritating birds that chirped away their hearts content, whispering leaves in a light breeze.

Trees? Water? Birds?

That didn't make sense. I lived in the city. Even with a park nearby, you had to cross the road at the traffic lights, then walk down another short road. I wouldn't be able to hear them at the crystal level I could now.

Normally when waking up, I'd find myself grunting in displeasure at the morning taste lingering in my mouth. It would take a while until I cut myself out a groggy haze and I'd throw the blankets off, swing my legs off the bed and stumble into the bathroom to start my usual routine of shower, cleaning my teeth, getting dressed and applying oil to my hair so it was a lot easier to force my hairbrush through unpleasant tangles. My grams would call out from behind the door impatiently, tell me she was going to work and that I needed to stop hogging the washroom. Still relatively sleepy, due to my late nights habit, I would give her the okay to swap places and ungracefully plop down in front of my desk.

But today was different. Inexplicably, irrefutably different.

My surroundings, even without opening my eyes, felt different.

Cold ghosted over my face again. The skin along my arms, fingers, toes- everything was tingling, like every cell in my body had pins and needles. It was an unfamiliar sensation, and also unwelcome. I tried to squint through the white light, craning my stiff neck. Everything was bleary, my eyes stung. A distinguishable stench stained the air, the strong odor a mixture of manure and the fresh outdoors.

Whatever this was, I didn't want to deal with it just yet. I wanted more sleep.

Rolling over, my fingers curled around something itchy. Bristles. At this, I chose to open my eyes again and blinked several times. I rubbed my face with both hands, clearing the groggy haze to see why the hell my bed was so intolerably scratchy.

Only to do a double take, palms gently grazing along the green patch to make sure it was really there.

Grass?

Grass.

I was laying in grass.

"Wha-"

I was about to curse, the what leading into a the, where I would then say my choice of profanity. But I cut myself off, startled by the deep baritone of my own voice. What the fuck. The words bounced in my brain, instead, opting for an inside voice so I didn't have to answer the mind-boggling query swarming my mind; Why did I sound like a dude?

My voice was uncharacteristically more hoarse than I was used to. I lifted a concerned hand, tentatively beginning to massage it. I was still wearing my narrowed gaze, not able to see much past the confusing, sleep-induced daze.

I tried to stand.

A strangled gasp slipped from me. There was a fleshy thud when I collided with the floor. It was hard. The ground harshly dug into my knees, quivering palms balancing on either side of me.

Like I'd been punched, my gut twisted painfully- and vomit threatened to lunge out of me.

Try again.

I tried to stand, but for some reason my legs couldn't support my weight quite yet. My knees collapsed, folding underneath my thighs. I let out a spluttered, strong cough. Then another, until bile spilled onto the floor in front of me. Droplets stained my dark hair. The aroma was pungent, I had to turn my head away before the scent alone made me puke again.

Motioning to the left, I shuffled away and dug the balls of my hands into my eyes, ridding the sleep. It took several times doing so, and I finally got a chance to gander at my surroundings.

What the hell. Dully, I corrected myself, where the hell?

I swiveled my eyes in various pivots, snapping left and right. Above. Diagonal. Circular. The more I drank in the sights, that much more I realised how unconventional they were.

My heart drummed a powerful beat.

Emerald was a very common theme here. From the grass I was seated onto the luscious green leaves, connected via ragged branches. Tall trees were littered everywhere. Around me, above me, behind me. The place was a scenic woods, a beautiful place to stroll on a date if hiking was your couples thing. From what I could see, there was no dirt path to follow. To my right, inches away from my hand, was a running bed of water. It didn't look entirely clean, but a lot less murky than most of the rivers at home.

A forest, I realised, I'm in a forest of some kind, seeing all the trees around me. Tall birchwood trees that stretched high above my head, their canopies blocking out the sun and leaving the floor in a complete shade. It was beautiful, if mother nature and hiking was your thing. From what I could see, there was no dirt path to follow. To my right, inches away from my hand, was a running bed of water. It didn't look entirely clean, but a lot less murky than most of the rivers at home.

I didn't remember going out. I was snuggled in blankets, lounging on my couch with my laptop across my legs, hand lazily occupying the mouse situated on the flat arm of the sofa. There was no last minute run. I didn't jog. I was unhealthy. The most recent visit to a park or the woods was about a year ago with my ex for a spontaneous rendezvous. By the looks of things, there was no half naked bodies near me. No empty alcohol bottles sprawled to the floor. Just me.

Confused, little ol' me.

My head throbbed.

Where the hell am I? I asked the second time. Thirsty, was my second thought. My eyes darted to the river curiously but I shook my head. I heard drinking from rivers was dangerous. Potential diseases roaming the water.

Attempting to clumsily orchestrate my jelly legs, I unsuccessfully tripped over a rock.

Icy liquid engulfed my hands, splattering onto my cheeks. Water soaked my legs. The skin on my hands hurt from the rough impact. The water had rippled when I fell in. I sighed and calmly stared down at the water with a wrinkling nose. At least I fell into the shallow edge, not the deep part that would swallow me whole.

The wrinkles in the water smoothed, revealing myself looking into the water.

My reflection. The completely Not-Me reflection.

My eyebrows twitched, heart skipping a beat.

Jet black, slightly damp hair sprawled to my broad shoulders. A few braids framing either side of the not-my face. Striking green eyes poured into mine for a good few stilling minutes before they trailed to the sides, observing (gawking) at the way my ears were poking out from beneath strands of black hair.

The ends were pointed.

"Fuck." A masculine voice breathed through the not-my-mouth.

My hand shakily rose, brushing back the unrecognisable braided locks. There was a stiffening in my spine when I locked my gaze on the unrecognisable features, and I froze. Unlike the usual round shell I knew my entire life, these were pointy, elf ears.

In the back of my mind, a frantic panic was quickly simmering to the surface. It violently scratched, a feral animal. A horrifying thought clicked in my head, so my eyes slowly drifted down- to my crotch.

Gingerly, I slipped a thumb through the breeches and covered my mouth with my other hand, swallowing my scream when I felt something shifted between my legs. I flung my hand away, as if burned, and kicked away from the water with laboured gasping, shuffling back to the grass on all fours like a crab.

Not only was I an elf, I was a man.

Okay Nina. Keep calm. This is obviously a dream. You're a woman. You don't have a dick. You have breasts-

My eyes shot down on reflex, and I nearly yelled out in terror. Both hands rapidly smoothed over my chest, searching and searching with a tremor in my fingers, only to find the lumps gone. Completely. Replaced by a lean, flat build.

My boobs are gone.

It was an odd thought that didn't seem to kick in at first, however, the more I repeated it numerous times in my head, a certain level of hysteria clicked.

My boobs are gone.

My boobs are gone.

Another thing finally sunk in on the side, I wasn't wearing my clothes.

I wheezed, coiling my fingers through the loose tunic around my torso, eyes shooting to the dark brown, muddy breeches wrapped around my legs. My nails dug into the palms of my hands, I swallowed a gasp, clenching my eyes shut.

It's just a dream, Nina. Just a dream- just a dream. I tightened my jaw, fucked up dream, I have a fucking ding-a-long, I'm apparently an elf and I'm in the middle of nowhere, but it's just a dream.

I fumbled to my (bigger) feet, brushing myself down. Let's just… ride this out. You'll eventually wake up.

The panic button was inches from being pressed. A mental picture of a mini woman shrieking with her hands on her cheeks, wide eyes horrified. She slammed on the wall of my skull, begging to be heard, iced shock numbly sliding over my mind.

(Don't think about it).

I pumped my legs, attempting to get the correct stride with this unfamiliar, lithe seeming body. My footsteps were clumsy, and I had to embarrassingly pause to adjust my trousers. Who the hell knew having a waving all-beef-thermometer and balls between your legs was so annoying.

(Don't. Think. About. It).

I had to leave this area at least, something urged me to get out. Survival instinct? Paranoia? The after effects of a shock victim? There wasn't a manual for this. No waking-up-in-a-male-elf-body for dummies.

My face flamed when something twitched below. I have to pee, I realised. My mouth soured, and I peered cautiously down at my covered crotch. Usually the urge to urinate woke me up… not put me into a deeper dream. But this didn't, I was still here in the middle of the forest, with the increasing urge to take a leak.

I didn't want to.

I really didn't want to.

I really need to pee.

Deciding there was no way around this, I slowly looked around. Gaze peeled for bystanders.

No one was here.

I fidgeted.

Just do it quickly.

Awkwardly, I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and lowered my breeches, trying not to look and attempting to touch as little as possible so I could go. It didn't seem right. It felt weird. It even took me a few moments of adjusting and staring to the clouds before I could let the stream hit the bark.

Hastily when I was done, I tucked it back in after a shake or two.

This is too realistic. Dream. Stop.

I continued trudging forward, maneuvering between the trees and the bushes and slowly getting used to walking in this body. It wasn't something I welcomed.

Eventually it seemed like I had been walking for hours.

My mouth was cracked and felt like the desert. There was an incredible ache poking into my calves. Gravity was pulling me down with more pressure. I couldn't help the constant raking a hand through my hair, pulling it out of my face and away from my hot neck, which was starting to become slick with sweat from effort.

I kicked a nearby herb sticking out of the ground, irritated with how much time my journey was taking. The scenery was beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I really wanted to get home. I really wanted to wake the fuck up.

The path I was on never turned to pavement and no hikers, joggers, nomads, gypsies or boy scouts ever passed by me. No signs of civilisation were anywhere to be seen. I didn't see any planes, any cars, hear anything other than crickets, the whispering of leaves above me, the occasional rustling of bushes and the snapping of twigs. Critters of the forest scattered and ran around from the corners of my eye every so often but I ignored them.

Having absolutely no idea where I was… that definitely didn't help.

I didn't know how long I was walking for and how I managed to stride for so long. My hurting feet thudded along the bumpy floor. A branch the shape of a talon had nicked my face and I was sure I felt a warm sting. Twigs caught in my hair, as well as leaves, it was getting tedious.

Eventually I had to stop for a break. It was now rapidly growing dark, an owl or two nearby and easily perturbed the depths of my gut.

At this change, my head leaned back and I almost fell back at the sight in the sea of stars.

This was getting weirder by the minute.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I stumbled across a town. My head spun. That nudge in the back of my brain shrieked at me that I had seen it before. But I had no idea where I was.

It smelt like dung.

I had to pinch my nose, but even then it was so bad it watered my eyes.

I gasped, spluttered and coughed, shooting my gaze around the bewildering village. I was in the midst of some medieval reminiscence. It looked more like an old renaissance reenactment. A cult, maybe? A weird, widespread club that happened to be Dungeons and Dragons enthusiasts? Someone who reeeeally loved World of Warcraft and organised this entire thing? What about Diablo- no, it didn't fit.

Houses, that were more like huts, were almost overlapping, aligned next to each other. Each one made of straw and wood. All very badly constructed hovels. There was no asphalt lining the floor, no pavement, no sleek cars, not even a phone in any of the bystander's hands.

One glance at their attire told me that it was similar to mine.

Children played in the street. Dirt smudged faces spread in cheerful, gap toothed grins. Their wooden swords clashed and cluttered. A small girl was off to the side, sitting on the step of her home with a poorly made doll. Her chubby fingers stroked the straw-like hair, and she watched the boys play fight with mild curiosity.

I severely hoped this was some sort of prank for a TV show.

I found a tavern type place, and blankly plopped my rear to the seat.

The chair creaked under my weight, due to my uncomfortable adjusting of my lower regions. About a few minutes passed in my brain dead state until I realised the barkeep was giving me a dirty look, nose crinkled, mouth in a sneer. I had a feeling it was the not-my elf heritage.

My forehead pressed against the cooling wood with a light thump.

Why am I here? Why am I dreaming about this? Why can't I wake up?

The nagging again for the thousandth time, knocking persistently in my brain. Somewhere in there, I knew I wasn't supposed to be vividly aware that this was a dream. The logical side of my thinking process refused to believe it was anything else but that.

My face became hot when something moved in my trousers and I adjusted in discomfort.

Go away, dammit.

I almost swatted my hand at the thing. I wanted to cross my legs but it was highly uncomfortable.

This freaking schlong has a bloody mind of it's own.

One thing I quickly learned, guys had uncontrollable boners that randomly appeared for no reason whatsoever. In the morning. In the afternoon. After a nice meal. When I'm laying in bed. It was a hindrance, and I didn't want the extended body part. It wasn't welcome. I wasn't used to this. I felt like I was going through a second puberty for an entirely different gender.

Wake up.

I was careful in my movements, gritting my teeth and lowering my head so I didn't gain attention. Unfortunately for me, apparently being an elf guaranteed a gathering of eyes, so someone noticed.

The waitress that came over took one look at the… equipment before letting out a revolted gasp. I opened my mouth to quickly usher her but a harsh, painful slap collided with my cheek. It echoed in the tavern, gaining stares.

A moment later, I received a mouthful of dirt, along with a shrill woman behind me, who stood behind the protection of the burly bouncer. "Perverted little knife-ear!"

I spat out the mud, bringing my arm up to swipe the smeared stains away from my face with a deep grimace. Screaming racial slurs to the new elf, real classy lady. I stretched my legs out, pushing my palms to the ground so I could stand. I brushed myself off, then heard a voice, something moved in my peripheral.

"Alanar!"

Lazily, I moved my eyes to see what the commotion was and they widened when I saw someone striding toward me. It was an elvish woman, easily distinguishable by the ears peeking out of her short, flaming hair. Her fists were clenching by her sides, pumping firmly.

Alanar, she called me. Was that this dream character's name?

At first, I said nothing. I didn't know this person. Even though it was a dream, something about her intimidated me. When she got closer, I could see fierce grey eyes analysing me and plump lips pulled down into a frown. Her long, straight nose wrinkled at the tip.

Uh-oh. I thought to myself, steadying myself for a potentially bad confrontation. She reached me and uncertain, I greeted her, my hello more of a question, "hi?"

She stared at me, and shakily, deeply inhaled. I watched the aggravated flush on her cheeks awkwardly, feeling my stomach clench and growing more wary with each second that dragged on.

Her palm sharply connected with my cheek, the cruel sound of the contact bounced in the air, drawing the eyes of fellow curious elves. I flinched and stumbled back, hand immediately flying up to nurse my burning skin, startled.

What the hell is it with these violent women?!

I covered my stinging cheek and narrowed my gaze angrily at her, partly pissed off with the constant abuse and partly confused as to why I was receiving it. As I opened my mouth, she coldly interjected. "Hi?" She viciously demanded. "Hi?! That's all you have to say?! Our wedding was yesterday!" She venomously spat. "Where were you?!"

Woah, woah, woah-

My head reeled.

Wedding?

"I think you have me confused with-"

Another slap.

She cursed in a foreign language, spitting at me. I gritted my teeth, squaring my jaw. "Look, I think you should-"

This time, I caught her next slap, anticipating it. I glared at her, hesitating when I saw the tearing gaze. She sniffled, but still appeared blistering. "You lied to me, Alanar," her watery voice broke, "you said you were ready for the commitment, for tradition."

I felt the harder edges of my face soften, feeling sorry for this woman, but I didn't know her name. I didn't know her. I couldn't comfort her. When is this dream going to end?

"You left me standing at the altar," she sobbed now, throwing herself into my arms. I barely caught myself, and hands hovering over her waist, not touching her and unsure what to do. "You humiliated me!"

If I apparently hurt her so, why is she hugging me? I thought it was wise not to say anything, apparently she disagreed. The woman, this stranger my mind had concocted, ripped herself away again. She was a messy blend of sobbing and angrily snapping, yowling in my direction. Her thin finger pointed in my face.

"You can't even have the decency tell me the truth?!" She cried, I just stood there, staring. She sobered, a bitter edge lacing with her words. "You can't even defend yourself, can you? You know what you did was awful."

"I'm sorry," I tried, my male timbre was odd to my ears. It was too surreal. Too weird. It didn't sound… right.

"Screw you Alanar Tabris."

I stilled.

"What did you just say?" I questioned calmly, eyes fixed on her deeply irate expression.

"Screw. You." She blurted it with more conviction this time but I could care less. I was very fascinated with what she said after that.

"No, not that, the name."

"Alanar." My hands dove out, snatching her arms and pulling her closer before she could run away. Distantly I heard that nagging voice tell me to let her go, to not hurt her. I barely registered when she called out in panic, "let me go!"

"Did you say Tabris?" I urged, becoming impatient, distressed. That name was familiar. Too familiar. It correlated with my surroundings. It made sense. It fit. It jarred me.

Stop it. My brain echoed. But there was this uneasy feeling I couldn't shake off. It was there. Pushing. Nudging.

Stop.

Wake up.

"What? Is this the excuse you're going to use for why you didn't turn up?! That you have amnesia?" She scoffed despicably. "Let me guess, you're going to ask who I am next."

Tabris.

The name rattled around my skull.

I was incredibly unsettled, my fingers loosened around her wrist and she yanked it back. I numbly took a step back, in a state of icy shock. "Alanar?" She whispered, voice distant. She appeared uneasy at my reaction. I didn't move, eyes staring straight through her.

Tabris.

As in, the city elf Tabris?

As in, the city elf Tabris, from Dragon age Origins?

As in, the city elf Tabris from Dragon age Origins who should be in Denerim?

What in uncle John's hairy nutsack am I doing in Tabris's body? What is my brain playing at? Why can't I wake up? Am I stuck? Am I in a coma? Why do I feel things so vividly? Why can I smell so well, feel pain so realistically, am I… actually here- No. It wasn't possible. I'd have to be insane to consider that was an actual possibility.

But it made sense, in a completely fucked up-my-mind-is-hallucinating-way. Logically, I was here. I was in the middle of a foreign town with people that dressed weirdly. I had elf ears. I'm in a different body entirely.

"Alanar?" Her soft spoken tone brought me back.

I dazedly looked toward her, feeling distant with her and myself. "Sorry, what?"

"Do you know who I am?"

I rolled my tongue around in my mouth, gnawing on the bottom of my lip. It wasn't a wise thing to make enemies here, they all seemed to hate elves. If I pushed the only people that could possibly be nice to me, I'd imagine that was bad. But I had to be honest, I couldn't pretend that well. I was never much of an actress. "No."

"How did we meet?"

I racked my brain, unable to think. "I...uh..."

Something flickered across her face, disappointment? … Fear? "Where are we?"

Frustrated, I knotted my fingers within my matted, black hair, "... I don't know."

"What date is it?"

Date. The date. I couldn't concentrate, fixated on the reassuring touch her fingers brushed along my arm. It felt real. It felt warm. Soft. It was there. It faded from reassuring, turning into an icy horror. Real. There. It shouldn't be real.

"I… I don't know."

"Who is your father?"

An image flashed in my head, causing my breath to cut off. Receding brown hairline, dark slanted eyes, squared shaped face and slightly bulbous nose. A warm smile was on his face. His normal-human-ears sticking out slightly.

Dad.

Human. Male. Father to one daughter and one son. The daughter was older, in her late teens. Wavy hair and bright eyes with a cheeky smile, she greatly resembled her mother. The son was younger, a messy mop of black hair and chocolate eyes, chubby cheeks with faint freckles on his nose.

My vision was blurry, it was hard to breathe.

She didn't seem angry anymore, her tone replaced with something careful. "I think we should get you home."

Mind far away, lost in thought, she had to drag me from my spot.

Just a dream.