Rated M for safety reasons.
Disclaimer: Belongs to Bioware. I'm just in love with the elf-kind.
Summary: "Step One: Survive Haven. Step Two: Survive the Inquisition. Step Three: Survive Corypheus. Step Four: Stop Solas." I paused and stared at the list skeptically. Yep, it was official, I was going to die. My gaze lowered to the corner of the page where a little note caught my attention. "No, you're not going to die."...why thank you, book. I'm glad at least an inanimate object has faith in me. Solas/Oc
I was bored and wanted to write some Dragon Age.
Unbeta'd: All mistakes are my own and I will fix them when you or I catch them :)
Illusion or Delusion?
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I woke up screaming, and utterly soaked.
The first thing that came to my mind was "Oh, shit! I just wet the bed." Then I remembered I was grown-ass woman, and haven't wet the bed since I was two and in diapers. Then, with a rush of adrenaline, I realized that it wasn't just my pants that were wet, but everything – everywhere.
And it was bloody freezing!
"What the hell!" I screamed, eyes wide, but I was still hazy from sleep. I couldn't focus - there were only blurry colors and bright lights. "What the fucking hell?"
A bitter voice chuckled, echoing around hauntingly. "Yeaaaah, what she said."
"W-what?" I managed to stutter out, my clothes clinging to my body like a second layer of skin. A biting, freezing layer of skin. I moved my arms to hold myself in attempt to keep warm, but something held them back. My heart lurched in my chest, panic filling my gut making my fingertips tingle. As I gave a few more experimental tugs, I looked down and squinted. Everything was still kind of fuzzy: red, black, brown, some yellow, and a little bit of grey; but I could just make out the leather shackles bound to my wrists.
My eyes widened. "W-w-what is g-going on?"
"I would ask of you the same thing." Answered a very familiar, very heavily accented, voice. "The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead."
God, why were those words so eerily familiar? I blinked repeatedly, trying to desperately clear my vision. I focused on two figures in front of me – both shapely, both tall, both women. I could tell that much, but I couldn't see their faces.
The black figure began pacing. "All, except you two."
I was confused again. "W-w-what a-are you….t-talking ab-b-bout?" The white figure straightened while the black stopped mid-pace and turned her heard towards me.
I suddenly had a feeling that what I had just asked was the wrong thing to say. The black figure moved fast, and before I knew it, my collar was clenched in a tight fist. My face became mere inches from another.
"I will not tolerate games." She seethed, heavy with rage. My eyes widened in astonishment as the face and the voice joined into one very familiar fictional character. One that currently had me in a death grip. "We will get the truth."
Cassandra Pentaghast.
Another voice, a soft French accented woman, spoke up. "Do you know how this happened? How this began?" Leliana. Had to be. Sounded like her.
"I-I don't…d-don't…" I was beginning to panic. What the hell is going on? Was I dreaming? This was a dream right?
"And what about you?" Cassandra growled, casting her golden glare over to the side, but not loosening her grip on my shirt. "You've been eerily quiet, Qunari."
My brows shot up. There was another here? I craned my head to the side, and focused on a big black mass twice, maybe three times, my size. The mass growled, and a head (with what couldn't possibly be horns) shook rather violently.
"Don't call me that." A deep gravelly voice growled. "I'm not part of that damned Qun shit."
Cassandra scoffed. "Shall I call you murder then?"
"I don't know what you are talking about." The mass sneered. Cassandra gripped tightened before she pushed me away. I fell backward, ungracefully, on my backside.
"You're lying!" Cassandra yelled, and raised her hand to the hilt of her sword, but Leliana interfered.
"We need him, Cassandra." She reasoned. The seeker glowered and shrugged off the spymaster's grip. She began pacing again.
"So both of you claim ignorance." She exclaimed. "Neither of you remember how only the two of you, out of hundreds, survived in what could be the greatest calamity of our time. Both unscathed, but only one bearing an unusual mark. Can either of you explain that?"
Sure I can. I could write her a whole damn testimony. I could delve straight into the juicy details, get real nitty gritty, maybe even reveal her fetish for trashy romance novels. Was I going to?
No, I wasn't. Why? Because I wasn't suicidal.
That woman had a sword and a short leash on her temper. One wrong word and my head could be lobbed off before Leliana could stop her. If she even would that is.
Second reason, I still had no idea what was going on myself. Everything in my head jumbled. I could only remember bits and pieces. I remember breakfast on Tuesday. Work on Wednesday then driving home in the dark. Waking up Thursday night, and playing bit of Inquisition and Bloodborne. Waking up Friday afternoon feeling sick as shit and…nothing. I can't remember the rest of Tuesday, how I got home Wednesday, when I fell asleep Thursday, or doing anything Friday. I don't even remember yesterday. What day was yesterday?
There was a crackling sound, and a bright green light illuminated from the hulking mass. Well, that answers one question. I officially do not have the anchor. Thank god. I would have not been looking forward to getting my hand cut off. I like my ligaments attached thank you very much.
"No." Answered Mr. Mass in a sharp clipped tone. I just shook my head while pushing myself up to sitting position again. Best stay silent. I thought to myself. Access the situation. Be vigilant and unmoved. But my body was betraying me. The water and cold temperature was freezing my clothing to my skin. I was becoming a living embodiment of a popsicle. My teeth were chattering despite my attempts of keeping them still, and I was fighting a cough that was rising up from my chest. Weakness, in this kind of situation, was not good.
Cassandra snarled and opened her mouth to say something, but Leliana beat her too it.
"Then what can you tell us?" The spymaster inquired as she stepped forward, arms crossed.
The hunk of mass was silent before he spoke. His tone was soft and slightly…hesitant…as if he wasn't sure himself.
"I remember running. Things were chasing me, and then…a woman."
"A woman?" Leliana asked curiously, and Cassandra scoffed.
The mass shook his head, as if trying to force himself to remember. "She reached out to me, but then…" He growled in frustration. The two were silent as they studied the mass, trying to decipher truth from lie.
"And you?" Cassandra turned her head towards me. "What do you know?"
"N-n-nothing." I stuttered, my lips feeling numb. "I-I do-don't know h-how I-I got h-here o-o-or wh-why."
And isn't that the god given truth. The seeker's stare was hard, and I felt mildly uncomfortable being subjected to it. A small bubble of panic emerged. She knows I'm lying.
But Cassandra turned around (ignorant of my internal anxiety), and like what happened in the game at this point, spoke quickly to Leliana. I let out a small sigh of relief.
"Go to forward camp, Leliana. I will take them to the rift." The spymaster nodded, and left without a word. Cassandra walked over to us, and kneeled in front of the black mass first.
"What did happen?" Mr. Mass inquired as his shackles were released.
Cassandra helped him to his feet, and turned towards me. "It will be easier if I showed you."
She knelt before me, and unlocked my own cuffs from my wrists. Like with Mr. Mass, she helped me to my feet. With my hands free, I quickly crossed my arms and began rubbing my sides to generate some sort of heat.
"Follow me." She commanded, and turned away. Mr. Mass followed in step behind her while I hung back - moving at a snail's pace. My entire body was frozen solid, and my limbs felt like limp noodles, barely following my mental commands. It was excruciatingly painful and frustrating.
"Y-y-you w-wouldn't happen t-to have ah b-blanket w-would y-y-you?" I asked with a shaky smile. "M-m-maybe ah p-pair of cl-clothes?"
Cassandra stopped mid-stride, and turned around with raised brows. Her expression showed a look of surprise than reluctance than guilt. She totally forgot about me. I thought surly and frowned.
"Of course." She said in finality with a hint of impatience. She motioned a guard, one in four silently following us, over. "Take them to get fresh clothes, I must speak with Farrier before we leave."
The guard rounded to my left and motioned for us to follow him. Mr. Mass began walking without a word, but I lingered, shuffling nervously on my spot.
"D-d-didja h-happen t-to stumble up-upon ah p-pair of gl-glasses?" I asked hopefully, brows raised. "Th-thick bl-black fr-frames?"
Cassandra stared at her with a look of utter confusion. "Pardon me?"
"G-glasses?" Again I received a blank stare. Uh, do they not have glasses here? "L-lenses? Bl-black fr-frame? H-helps you s-see? G-glasses? Spah-ah-spectacles?" I defiantly don't remember ever seeing a character wearing glasses before, not even a monocle. Do they have some sort of impeccable eye insurance? Maybe they used magic? Magic helps man and all.
How do you explain glasses to a video game character with 20/20 vision?
"T-tiny windows th-that s-sit on your f-f-face." I explained hopefully. "W-was t-there anything o-on m-my p-person th-that y-you f-found?"
Understanding crossed Cassandra's face and she nodded. "Yes, there were strange items scattered around when we found you. They have been inspected and cleared as non-lethal weapons. They can be returned." She looked beyond me and nodded to another guard. My face paled slightly. Inspected and cleared? Oh god, what does that mean?
I followed behind Mr. Mass silently pray to god (Buddha, Maker, Creators, Johnny Depp) anyone who would answer my prayers. Pleases~ make sure my glasses are not broken! I don't think I would survive prancing around Thedas blind as a bat.
The guard motioned Mr. Mass and I into a room, and closed the door behind us. Inside was illuminated by multiple candles hanging from the ceiling by chandler then on the walls by metal sconces. It was a bedroom of sorts turned storage/armory from the looks of it. Three lithe figures stood in the middle of the room, most likely chatting before we came in, soon bounded our way and ushered us behind different three panel room divider. I felt my face burn with embarrassment. Seriously? Okay, okay calm down, Jemma. Think of this a locker room. A locker room filled with complete strangers…and a Kossith male. No bathroom stall to hide in this time. Great. Perfect.
"Oh Maker, how are we going to fit him?" one of the figures asked sounding perplexed. "He is twice as large a human."
"Don't exaggerated, Mischa." Another chided. "He is only about as big as my late husband."
"I think you've sustained some memory loss, old woman." Another laughed; male. "You exaggerate Henric's prowess."
"I think I still have something of his somewhere around here." She mumbled ignoring her companions jab. As the older woman ran out the door, a brown colored blob entered my peripheral vision.
"Now with you we will have a much easier time, hmm."
My eyes widened slightly, and I began to protest. "N-no tha-thanks. I-I'm good-d, I-I think i-its d-dryin-eek!" There was a sharp ripping sound, and suddenly, my shirt and bra were being peeled off on my shoulders. Did they just seriously cut off my clothes! I mentally screamed in disbelief. Instantly, I covered my chest in attempt of some modesty but they were quickly shoved aside with brute force.
"Don't move." She commanded, and she made a clean cut from my waist to my ankle. My ruined clothes pooled at my feet like a virgin sacrifice.
"What strange clothes." The woman muttered before snorting and tossing them out of the way. I internally wailed.
The door opened with the slam, and everyone jumped, including me. I yelped and ducked down in attempt to cover my nakedness.
"I found them!" The old woman cried waving something in the air.
"Well, let's get to it." Commanded the male. "We don't have all day you old bat."
"What are you doing down there?" My blob woman asked kneeling, but I refused to look at her. My face was burning with embarrassment. This is a nightmare. It had to be.
Blob woman sighed, shaking her head. "Such a skittish human. Come, I must bandage you."
"B-bandage?" I stuttered looking at her nervously. What does that mean? I'm not hurt….physically, anyway.
"For your breasts." Exclaimed the man, sounding highly amused.
My eyes widened, mortified, and I hung my head in shame. Nightmare. Total nightmare.
Mr. Mass, to my utter horror and relief, was silent through the entire ordeal.
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Well, at least it is not a corset. I thought grimly as I stared at down at myself. Definitely wasn't the most supportive, but it did the trick. My boobs looked long and droopy compared to perky in the push-up bra I was used to wearing, but my nip-nips were covered so…a plus?
I was wearing medium armor (because I'm pretty sure heavy armor wouldn't be this tight fitting). It was a blue blackish color with a vest that barely covered over my breasts, and underneath was soft leather underneath chainmail that weighed barely anything. It was light as a feather. I had shoulder pads that followed the curve of my shoulders then pointed-out looking sharp and intimidating. I was in pants, thank god, but they were skin tight and barely reaching my ankles. One woman gave me knee-high boots to put on. I closed my eyes and prayed as I squeezed my big foot through that I would get any foot funguses.
Wearing another's clothing is one thing, shoes is another. I mean, ewww toe jam. I'm all for walking in ones footsteps, but I didn't think it was meant to be perceived as quite so literal. So all in all, I didn't look to shabby. A bit rogue like, if I do say so myself.
"Lady Seeker is waiting." Stated the guard by the door as Mr. Mass and I exited the room. I took a peek at Mr. Mass and noticed his attire. Or rather, lack of. The older woman's attempts to use her deceased husband's armor all but failed as Mr. Mass's upper half was far too large. Despite her laminating otherwise. So the Kossith's torso was completely naked except for the armored shoulder pads, and chest plate. He was completely uncovered, but that didn't seem to bother the male. In fact, he seemed to prefer it. The pants though apparently fit perfectly, as well as for some worst-for-wear boots. Which is either saying the woman's husband was either a really heavy bottom or Mr. Mass had some really narrow hips and proportional issues. I left that up to my spectacular imagination.
We walked silently up the main hall towards Cassandra. I could tell it was her from the stiff posture, crossed arms, and permanent scowl on her face. Well, I couldn't see the scowl, but I defiantly felt it. The air oozed with impatience and irritation.
"These are your things that we have found." She stated curtly, and tossed a bag in my direction. I barely had time to react as I scrambled forward in order to catch it. When it collided with my chest, it momentarily knocked the wind out of me. Holy shit. What is in this bag? Bricks?
I took a peek at the insides. Nope, defiantly not bricks, but…what in the hell is this? I took out a humongous book that had engulfed the insides, and was the source of my bruised ribcage.
Magic for Dummies:
And by "Dummies", I mean you.
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Eeh?
I stared at the title totally gob-smacked. Was this someone's sick twisted joke? I quickly opened the book and read the first page I saw:
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Close your mouth dumbass, and straighten up. They are watching you. They don't trust you yet, and if you get yourself killed here by sheer idiocy - I. Will. Be. Pissed.
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My eyes immediately lifted, and I realized the book was right (god damn, did I really just think that? This was some messed up dream) everyone around was watching me with varying degrees of suspicion and distrust. Cassandra was practically radiating it.
I laughed nervously. "Just making sure it's not torn." I quickly flipped through the pages quickly, staring at it intensely. Bit too intensely. "Nope, all here, haha." I tucked the book, as much as I could, under my arm in order to search through the rest of the bag.
Three tubes of chapstick - handy, but not what I was looking for.
"You can read the inscription on the tome?" Cassandra asked suddenly, and if I had been paying attention, I would have heard her slight clipped tone.
Permeant marker, scissors, glue, sticky notes – all good if I was bored and wanted to make some papier mache.
"Of course." I replied distracted. "Can't you?"
Deodorant, three tiny bottles of shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste – finally something useful! I nearly shouted out with joy as my hand grasped around cool glass. I pulled my glasses out, and quickly placed them on my face.
I felt all my blood leave my face, and suddenly, I felt it would have been better if I had stayed half blind.
"No." Cassandra answered; face clear of all emotion, but her eyes were burning with accusation. "None of our scholars could interpret the language you claim you can read."
Good going, dumbass. Just make them even more suspicious of you. Why don't you just chop your head off already? Seems you are on your way there anyway.
"Um, it's a made up language." I explained quickly and lamely. "Yeah, totally made it up. Kind of like how gitchee gitchee goo means that I love you in my...this…language."
Did I…just seriously…quote a song…from Phineas and Ferb? Oh god, someone just give me a knife. I will end it myself.
Cassandra glared at me for what seemed like forever, but was surely a couple seconds, before she scoffed.
"It does not matter now. Only time will reveal your sincerity." She said eyeing me with contempt before turning around. "We must be going. Too much time has been wasted."
She walked towards the front door without another word and Mr. Mass followed suit, passing me without so much as a glance. I kept my face blank as possible as I packed away my things back into the bag. I would not show them how much her actions stung. I loved Cassandra, and her lack of trust hurt. It's only because she doesn't know you, my conscious tried to reason. If this was all a dream, my dream Cassandra shouldn't hate me so much. I inwardly growled. Maybe this was all some kind of messed up inner hatred? My self-hate was taking on the form of someone I admired and taunting me.
I shook my head, pushing away the depressing thoughts, and took after the two - who were already outside and waiting.
Tell me what you think, please.
-Kait