Title: Tearing the Veil
Author: Grand Delusions
Disclaimer: Dragon Age is the property of Bioware and EA Games.
Summary: Post-game. "With a loud crack and a hurricane of light, the Veil was torn." The Blight defeated and the Grey Warden Elissa Cousland dead. But there are those that will journey beyond the Veil to retrieve her.
Author's Note: I haven't posted written fanfiction in a long time, and not in this fandom before, but like many others have, I found the characters and story absolutely compelling. This story developed in my mind after different play throughs watching the minor characters interact with the PC.
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Tearing the Veil
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Prolouge
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Elissa Cousland sighed, resting her head against the gnarled tree at her back. Above her the clouds swam aimlessly through the sky, shapes weaving and colliding into new forms across the pale backdrop . From her place on the hill, the plains stretched out before her into the distance.
Into infinity. Forever. Eternity.
She shuttered at the thought, her eyes starring emptily into the void.
A breeze rustled the few blades of grass stubborn enough to pierce the hard earth, and the twisted, barren branches cracked overhead; yet, she felt no wind. The sun's rays filtered through the clouds, casting scattered puddles of light against the land; yet, she felt no warmth.
She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her bent legs, and inclined forward to rest her chin against her knees. Her eyes again found the line that divided the limitless bounds of land from sky, then eyes became unfocused and clouded. Vision muddled as she searched for something just beyond.
"Still here, Warden?" the voice seemed to come from her every side, surrounding her as though originating from her mind, shattering her silent revere. A sharp glance to her left confirmed her suspicions: the spirit stood an arm's reach away.
He appeared to have the form of a human, yet Elissa suspected it was simply for her own comfort and familiarity. Had she been an elf, she imagined the spirit would appear to her as such. But there was something oddly calming about the presence.
She had studied his appearance before, and after the first several times he visited her she concluded that he reminded her very much of one tutor from her early adolescence. Whether the form simply was his attempt to put her at ease, or a result from him seeing into her own mind, a confused merging of memories and delusions; she could not tell.
"I find I am not yet anxious to part from your company," she answered at length, sarcasm faintly coloring the edges of her tone. She turned her eyes back to the eternal expanse.
"Ah, but the Second-Born are not meant to live here, only to pass through on their way to the Maker."
"Live?" she caught onto the word, clinging to it, snarling bitterly as she threw it back.
"Apologies, Warden."
She shrugged, instantly forgiving the offense. He meant nothing cruel by the expression and she had long ago reconciled herself to her present state. Eventually she might even accept it. After all, she had all the time she needed. Eternity spread out before her, forbidding and vast like the dark void of the ocean.
All the time in the world...
Her eyes suddenly focused and flicked over the horizon, almost finding a distant point just beyond the Veil.
Almost. She could almost sense it, beyond the murky confines that trapped her in here, she could just make it out…
Then it was gone, like stars melting on the dawn.
Frowning, she resumed her search.
"She worries about him, you know?" the spirit took a step towards her, turning his eyes to join hers scanning the distance.
"Who?"
"The one you call Wynne."
"I gathered that you meant her. And coyness does not suit you."
"Nor does it suit you," he retorted. "She worries over the boy, as you well know."
"He's not a boy," she scoffed.
"Do you know how many years I have seen, Warden?" the spirit asked. "How many lifetimes and eras and ages? I have seen them fly by like a bird on the wind."
She remained silent for a hundred eternities before asking, in a voice softer than a whisper as she turned to the spirit: "How do you know she worries about him?"
The form tilted his head to the side once she sheepishly looked up. "You doubt my abilities to discern her feelings, or simply seek to gratify your own guilt?"
She made no answer.
He turned back to the distance, looking at what she could not, keeping silent vigil over her hunched form.
"She knows he is growing tired under the weight of your absence, and she does not know how to heal this injury."
"My absence," she smirked, mockery provided a thin veneer to cover despair. "You speak of it as if it were a temporary departure on one hand, and on the other as though I broke his heart."
"Didn't you?"
She let out as shuttering breath. The spirit's voice held no anger, no resentment or accusations, only simple curiosity tinted his otherwise mellow tone.
"I did what I had to do. What was best. I have no regrets."
"Pity. If only you could look up at me from your spot on the ground as you said that, reveal your eyes so that I might see your soul as you say such things, and I might be inclined to believe you."
"What point would there be to regret it?" she snapped. "So I could spent eternity mulling over my regrets? I'd go mad!"
"And yet, here you are, staring into the void, desperately searching for glimpses of him past the Fade."
A faint snort of laughter escaped her lips. "I'd hardly call this desperate. There's little else to do for eternity."
The spirit remained silent. At length, she looked up to see if he had left, and found him smiling sadly. Her eyebrows furrowed with the unspoken question.
Then the spirit lowered himself to the ground, sitting beside her, and Elissa tried to remember if he had ever done this before. All she could remember was the spirit standing over and away, just near the tree, yet away from her.
"You are not meant to exist forever in the Fade, Warden," the spirit explained patently, gently, with almost pity in his voice. "You are Second-Born, and not from this realm. You are only meant to pass through as you return to the Maker's side. This is not meant to be your eternity, for you are not First-Born. This oblivion is only for the disbelievers amongst your kind. Do not punish yourself needlessly in a purgatory of your own creation when you are meant to move on."
"I miss him," she offered brokenly. "I know it hasn't been long beyond the Fade, but it's been a thousand forevers between each glimpse I get of him."
"And a thousand will grow for each moment you stay. You were never meant to see beyond the Veil as we here do. The ability will dim with use into nothing."
"It's already growing harder for me to look through the Veil," she confessed.
"And how long will you remain stealing seconds of him? Until he forgets you? Marries? Not that I do not enjoy your company, but you can leave, be happy, embrace an eternity beyond this at the Maker's side."
"I do not yet know. A little while longer, at least."
"Then I will wait with you, Warden, until you are ready," the spirit replied, resuming his typical position, standing apart from her, facing the same line of the horizon.
She murmured her thanks, once again turning her attention back to the distance.