AN – *waves* The following story is substantially more angsty than my usual fare. I apologize for that, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone.

So, what follows is my idea of what transpired during the Dalish elf origin story without Duncan being there to save Mahariel from the darkspawn taint. It primarily focuses on the relationship between Lyna Mahariel and Merrill.

Dragon Age is the property of Bioware. Portions of dialogue are taken from Dragon Age Origins, though I had to rewrite Merrill's lines quite a bit in order to make her sound a little more like her Dragon Age II self.

Rated M for violence, possible character death, and adult situations between two consenting female elves. I think I made that last bit clear in the summary, but you never know.

"Shattered Dreams" by Imrryr

Chapter 1 of 4?

...

During the year of the Fifth Blight...

...

Cautiously, the elven hunter approached his prey. Something was rustling in the grove ahead but whatever it might be, it didn't seem particularly concerned about masking its movements. Perhaps it was a bear... or a shem. Neither were creatures he particularly wanted to meet today, but honestly, he'd prefer dealing with a bear; bears were more reasonable and he'd never known a bear to lead a war-party back to camp.

It was a warm and pleasant day in the Brecilian forest; perfect weather for hunting. He'd hate for the shemlens to come along and spoil things.

Ducking under a branch, the hunter slowly drew back his bow as he passed carefully between the ferns and bushes. From behind the lush green leaves of a willow tree he caught a flash of reflected light and the barest hint of light skin from the grove ahead.

'A shem then...' he realized. 'Fantastic.'

Holding back a sigh that only would've given away his location, the hunter gently nudged the hanging leaves aside and peered into the clearing. He stopped right where he was. It wasn't a shem at all. In the middle of the grove was his best friend and clan mate Lyna Mahariel spinning around with her arms outstretched and giggling like a child. For a second he grew concerned, had Lyna broken into one of those shemlen whiskey distilleries scattered about the edge of the forest? For her sake Tamlen hoped not. Not long ago, Junar had done just that and to this day was still forbidden from hunting by himself.

Stepping out into the clearing, he was slightly put off by how the dancing elf barely acknowledged his presence. All he got was a weak "Hi, Tamlen" in response before she went back to her strange spinning and giggling routine.

Eyes narrowing, the hunter stared suspiciously at her. Lyna looked far too pleased with herself, but at least he was certain he could smell no alcohol on her. "All right, out with it, lethallan. What happened?"

Lyna's dreamy expression never faded as she gracefully danced and softly hummed her way around the clearing, jumping from rock to rock. She had always been one of the most agile hunters in the clan and apparently that agility manifested itself while she danced too. With what could almost be considered divine timing, the sun came out from behind the clouds and bathed the grove in its warm, yellow light. That at least was enough to get her to finally pay some attention to him. "Hmm?" she mumbled as she hopped down from the boulder she had been on, a typically warm expression on her face.

"I haven't seen you this happy since..." He paused and furrowed his brow as he thought about this, "well, since forever, really." Certainly, Lyna had a naturally cheerful personality, but this was a bit much even for her.

Her eyes slowly met Tamlen's and the corners of her lips twitched up as she held back a smile, her big bright eyes sparkling like sapphires. Lyna had her chest thrust out with her hands clapped together behind her back. She looked like a novice hunter who had just bagged her first kill for the clan; struggling to hold back her elation because that's what the elders expected, yet fidgeting with pride in herself.

Eventually, she dipped her head. "I kissed her," she said finally, a blush creeping onto her face.

Tamlen's jaw dropped open and hung there for several long seconds before words could finally come to him, "You kissed her?"

Lyna nodded proudly. She repeated the words, taking time to savor each one, "I. Kissed. Her."

Then, as if the full reality of it had only just sunk in, she gave a delighted squeal and fell onto the grass with a heavy thump.

Tamlen shook his head. That must've been some kiss.

He knelt over the young woman and mussed up her short black hair. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you, lethallan."

Nodding, she sighed dreamily as she lay there on her back. The way Lyna hummed contentedly to herself, fingers tapping a strange rhythm on her bare abdomen, Tamlen had no doubt that his friend was reliving every moment of her recent experience in exquisite detail...

Earlier that morning...

...

Lyna Mahariel carefully whittled away at the small wooden figure in her hand. Carving was something she had practiced every day since she had been old enough to be allowed to hold a knife. But this carving was special; it was a representation of Mythal the protector, and it was a gift; a gift for Merrill. It had to be perfect.

It was common for the Dalish to give a gift to the one they loved, and amongst her fellow hunters that usually meant killing a large and dangerous animal; a bear or a wolf, for example.

But though Lyna was a very skilled hunter if she did say so herself, it seemed tasteless to give Merrill such a gift. What kind of statement would a dead animal make? 'Here Merrill, have this mountain lion. I killed it just for you. You can see just how much I love you in its cold, lifeless eyes.' No, that wouldn't do at all.

No, Merrill was more the quiet and studious sort. Though trained in combat - as all Dalish were to some extent - as the First of the clan she was much more interested in the history of her people than putting her magic skills to the test against wild animals, let alone hunting as Lyna did.

Not only was the First intended to one day lead the clan, he or she would also responsible for knowing all the ancient lore of their people. Every time the hunters found a new artifact from their forgotten past it was the Keeper's job to interpret the findings and to keep that knowledge for posterity. Merrill once told her that the tiniest scrap of paper from the days of ancient Arlathan might contain some long forgotten secret that changed everything for elves all over Thedas.

That was why Merrill spent much of her time buried in books, or studying the small collection of ancient relics the clan possessed. And when she had a free moment, Lyna liked to join her, though she often never said a thing out of fear of disturbing the young woman. She was more than content to listen to the sound of Merrill's beautiful voice as she thought out loud, occasionally explaining things for her benefit.

Of course, Lyna was interested in the history of her people too. It was just, between hunting to feed the clan and fending off interlopers - be they animal or human - she just didn't have much time to study such things. That was another reason she kept quiet around Merrill; she was fearful of making an idiot out of herself by opening her mouth. It was enough to simply be in First's presence. She had been so shy when she first came to the clan as a young girl. Even today, after more than ten years amongst the Sabrae, Merrill still had few friends. Perhaps that was always the way it was with Keepers and their apprentices, Lyna supposed. Regardless, she was more than a little proud of herself that Merrill would sometimes seek out her company.

Carefully, she worked on Mythal's face with her small, yet very sharp knife. The vallaslin had to be just right. Just like the ears she had finished yesterday.

The only reason she had time to work on her carving at this moment was that she completely blew off her training with Master Ilen. She sighed when she contemplated just how angry he was going to be with her later, but Lyna wanted to finish her secret project soon... tonight, if at all possible.

Besides, Master Ilen was getting old. Maybe it would slip his mind?

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who might be angry at her come this evening.

Her eyes glanced over at the ancient tome she had brought with her. The generations old book was lying there on a stump, completely unopened as it had been since sunrise. Lyna sighed. She really should be reading it but she couldn't help it. It was hard for her to sit down and read a book no matter how interesting the subject was. She preferred to listen to the tales spoken aloud; especially if they were being told by a certain dark haired elf.

Surely, Lyna had reasoned, Merrill would want a mate who was as well versed in Elven lore as herself. Hence why she had temporarily borrowed the book from the Keeper.

She prayed Marathari wouldn't notice its absence.

And she tried to stamp down that voice that told her she was only reading it to impress Merrill.

It seemed she was always doing things to impress Merrill. A single smile from the shy and reclusive elf would stay with Lyna for days afterwards and brighten her every waking moment. There was nothing like it in all the world.

"What are you doing here, lethallan?"

Lyna squeaked in surprise and her knife slipped, slicing her ring finger open. "Elgar'nan!" she cried out, the blood spattered figurine fell to the ground.

Quickly, Merrill was beside her and without a word gently grabbed Lyna's wounded hand. The huntress looked up at her with wide, questioning eyes. She felt like an idiot, but all of a sudden Lyna no longer cared if she was bleeding to death.

With the faintest flash of green light, the wound sealed itself. It didn't heal completely, Merrill hadn't mastered the art of healing magic - might never master it - but she could mend a small wound and at least stop the bleeding.

When she finally spoke, Lyna stuttered, her voice sounding surprisingly breathy to her own ears, "T - Thank you."

"I never thought I would ever catch a hunter by surprise," the other elf joked, her voice twinkling with mirth.

Lyna just sat there, her lips slightly parted. There was that smile again, and on top of that she couldn't remember Merrill having ever touched her before, not like this, and certainly not since she had gone and fallen in love with her.

Merrill's fingers weren't callused like her own. They were soft, and warm and pulsed with magic that even Lyna, who had no magical talent whatsoever, could feel. There was a power there that dwarfed any strength of her own.

And she'd gladly cut her hand every day if it meant Merrill would hold her like that.

Still smiling, Merrill finally let go and picked up the piece of wood Lyna had dropped and forgotten entirely.

"What's this?" she asked, turning the small carving of Mythal wielding her bow around in her small hands.

Lyna's face turned red, Merrill definitely wasn't supposed to see that until she was finished carving it. And then... well, she didn't know... She'd take Merrill to someplace beautiful - like the edge of a lake under the moon, perhaps? - and give it to her there, once she had taken a few more weeks to work up the nerve and figure out exactly what she should say. "It's... um... well... it's Mythal," she finally managed to spit out. She had been halfway through carving the figure's vallaslin - the blood writing that all Dalish received on their faces when they came of age - would Merrill notice?

The way the elf's lips parted ever so slightly seemed to indicate that she had. Merrill ran a slender finger over the carving's face. "Her vallaslin... they look like mine."

'Oh, creators!' "I... uh..."

The elf ran her hands over the figure's ears and short hair. It was clear that she was putting it all together.

"You made Mythal look like me?"

Thinking clearly while in Merrill's presence was apparently completely impossible, that was the only way to rationalize what came out of her mouth next, "I wanted to make her beautiful."

In the silence that followed Lyna nearly fainted when she fully comprehended what she had just said. When Merrill looked away, Lyna's eyes darted left and right. How bad would it be if she just bolted for the woods, never to be seen again? 'If only there was a nice bottomless hole I could throw myself into...'

Thankfully, Merrill was still sitting there. Her face was flushed, perhaps in embarrassment, but at least she hadn't run away or laughed in Lyna's face.

"Oh," Merrill said simply, her green eyes wide.

Yep. A bottomless hole was looking really good right about now, Lyna thought. Perhaps she would start digging one when Merrill finally let her down easy with something along the lines of, 'That's really sweet, Lyna, but I just don't think of you li-'

"I don't think Mythal would've had vallaslin, to be honest," Merrill finally said into the gathering silence.

Lyna's heart sank; she hadn't even considered that.

"But perhaps," the First continued, lifting up a finger to trace the intricate designs tattooed on Lyna's own face, "you should've made her look more like you... If you wanted her to look beautiful, I mean."

Again, Lyna found herself unable to speak, she could only stare dumbly at the girl as the heat from her too brief touch lingered on her face.

Merrill was smiling at her again, a dazzling smile that made the hunter's heart flutter. "Everyone thinks I'm absent-minded and that I don't notice a lot of things... but I notice you. And you are more than beautiful."

Lyna's jaw dropped, she never imagined Merrill saying such a thing to her. "Y – you think so?"

A nod. "And smart, and clever," she added as she rubbed the little wooden figurine still in her left hand, "and you're talented in so many things: carving, hunting -"

Lyna beamed. Merrill's words were doing wonders for her self-esteem.

"- and you've always been interested in our ancient lore," she finished, nodding knowingly at the book still lying on the tree stump. "Isn't that the Keeper's book?"

The huntress nodded, her eyes shut to keep herself from giggling.

Merrill giggled too, but then her expression fell as she looked away, "I just... I thought that surely one of the hunters would be better suited -"

Before she could continue, Lyna reached over and gently lifted up Merrill's chin with one slender finger. Their eyes met, blue orbs staring deeply into green ones that put the forest to shame with their vibrancy. Her heart pounding, Lyna knew it was time to let Merrill know, "I don't want one of the hunters. I want you."

Lyna had never seen anyone blush such a deep shade of crimson. The First's voice was meek, "I'm nothing special, Lyna."

The huntress pushed forward, taking Merrill's hands in hers. "You are though. You have the old gifts, and you know so much about our people's ways. If anyone is fit to lead us, it's you. If anyone can give us back what we've lost, it will be you."

Merrill's blush traveled down her neck and under her robes but Lyna's firm grip kept her from looking away again.

"And more importantly: you're sweet, and beautiful," the huntress continued. "There's no one in the clan like you."

"I don't know about that," she whispered, staring entranced into Lyna's bright blue eyes.

Lyna leaned in closer with each word, "Merrill... is it okay if I –"

The other girl swallowed, eyes darting to Lyna's lips then back to her eyes, and nodded almost imperceptibly. With an encouraging smile, Lyna drew closer and closer until their lips finally met.

It was better than even her wildest dreams, and she dreamed of this often. Merrill's lips felt warm and wonderfully soft.

In her dreams, the first kiss was always sweet but short, so she was surprised when Merrill's arms wrapped themselves around her back and the kiss never ended.

'Elgarnan! Where did she learn to kiss like that?' Lyna felt her heart pounding, harder than it would've if she had been racing through the forest with a pack of wolves nipping at her heels. Merrill ran her hands up her back and made the most wonderful moaning noises she had ever heard.

The feeling of nails digging into her skin inflamed her and as they embraced, and without even meaning to, Lyna gently pushed Merrill to the ground and straddled her lap. Unconsciously, her hips pressed into Merrill's own and her strong legs entwined with Merrill's slender ones.

She'd fantasized about this moment for months. Her mind raced with all the things she wanted to do for Merill... and to Merrill. She'd show Merrill just how much she loved her and she would prove herself as the best possible mate for her.

Eventually, they were forced to pause for breath, Lyna resting her forehead on Merrill's as she gasped, her lips swollen. Merrill chuckled. "If this is what happens every time you injure yourself, maybe you should get injured more often," she joked. Then her eyes grew wide, "N-not too badly though. I can't heal big injuries."

Lyna drew back slightly but only giggled at Merrill's babbling; it was just another thing she loved about the woman. During their embrace she had pinned the First's hands to the grassy forest floor underneath her own. The hunter in her reveled in their current predicament. "Mmm..." she murmured, as she closed her eyes and concentrated fully on what she was feeling. Merrill's body was surprisingly firm yet oh so wonderfully soft.

"Lyna?"

The hunter stiffened. "Sorry!" she squeaked, letting go of the First's hands and sitting up quickly.

Merrill's own face was just as flushed as she propped herself up on her elbows. "I wasn't complaining, emma leth," she said, running a hand through Lyna's short hair, brushing by a sensitive ear as she did so. "It's just that the Keeper will want to know where I've been, and aren't you supposed to be with Master Ilen?"

Relieved she hadn't pushed her kiss too far, Lyna giggled and nodded her head. They could continue this later, she thought.

She was about to get up when Merrill's hand wrapped around her waist and kept her seated on her lap. Gently, she ran her left hand up and down the huntress' exposed bicep. Lyna luxuriated in the sensation. If Merrill was examining her – sizing her up as a mate - she hoped she passed the test.

"You're really strong," the First murmured, the green of her eyes darker than Lyna had ever seen them before.

She tried, she really did, but she couldn't stop the proud grin that formed on her face.

'Emma leth,' she thought. 'She called me her love.' It was all she could do to keep herself from squealing with happiness again.

"I take it she kissed back?"

Lyna glanced over at her friend and nodded. 'Did she ever...'

Tamlen had joined Lyna in lying down on the soft forest floor. "So," he drawled, "one day you'll be the Keeper's mate. Not a bad deal when you think about it."

Lyna was scandalized. "That's not why I'm after Merrill!"

"No," he agreed. "I can imagine why you're after her," he said dryly.

The woman blushed. "Shut up..." She certainly wouldn't mind that becoming more intimately acquainted with her... but being near Merrill was enough for the moment. Making the woman smile and laugh, sitting there in her tent, watching as she investigated some ancient elven artifact, that was all more than enough. She was so very beautiful when she got wrapped up in studying objects from the past or when she excitedly recited to Lyna some old elven story. The enthusiasm she had for elven history was contagious.

"So, tell me, lethallan. Why her? Why not one of the hunters?"

Lyna frowned at the thought. Everyone who knew about her crush had asked that exact same question. It wasn't like there weren't any good prospects among the hunters, they'd say, sometimes making it clear that they were the one Lyna should be seeking. But she didn't care. Merrill just felt like... she felt like the other half of her somehow. If she bonded with Merrill, then Lyna knew she would be complete.

Lyna's words came out as an embarrassed whisper, "She's cute, and beautiful, and she knows so much about our people..." she trailed off for a moment, "Did you see her when we found those ancient scrolls in that underground vault last year?

"The worthless ones?"

"Yeah." Those scrolls were nearly completely illegible, but still, Merrill spent weeks trying to decipher them. "You should've seen her, Tamlen. She was so passionate about it. I've never seen her so excited." She'd never seen anyone in their entire clan so excited.

"Passionate," Tamlen said, chuckling slightly, "right." He obviously didn't see it.

"And her laugh..." she added wistfully.

"Merrill laughs?" His raised eyebrow asked the question. "She always seems so serious."

"Mmmmhmmm," Lyna drawled. "She laughs at my jokes."

"Huh," he replied dryly. "Well, I suppose someone was bound to find them funny eventually."

"Hey!" Lyna rolled over onto her side long enough to give Tamlen a solid punch to the shoulder.

"Oww!" he cried out, sitting up and rubbing his arm. He was practically pouting. "Does she know how abusive you are?"

Lyna rolled her eyes when she sat up. She and Tamlen had treated each other like this since they were children. No wonder half the clan thought they would eventually bond with each other.

The glint returned to his eyes. "So... um, does this mean you'll be the First's... first?"

Lyna's expression turned horrified and she pushed him away forcefully. "Tamlen!"

"Hey! Watch the shoulder!"

The huntress snorted indignantly and fell back to the ground. There were some things she would just never be able to discuss with Tamlen, no matter how many years they knew each other.

They continued to sit there as the sun fell and passed behind the trees. Lyna observed the forms the scattered clouds took as they traveled slowly overhead: a fox, a cluster of spear-points and something that looked a little like a skull, or maybe a fire pit? She hummed to herself. Never in her life had she felt so at peace. Merrill liked her. Merrill had kissed her...

Still at her side, Tamlen interrupted her thoughts. "Do you think the Keeper will approve?"

Lyna's mood fell. She hadn't really thought about that. Brow furrowed, she turned to look at him. "You think the Keeper won't approve?"

Tamlen's eyes remained transfixed on the sky. "Well, it's just..." he sighed. "What about, you know... children?"

Indeed... that was a problem. Life in the forests was a dangerous one, especially for the hunters. All the Dalish were encouraged to have children. Not that the clan would ever demand such a thing from its members. Still, in a decade or more if she never had children there might be disappointed looks. Whenever Keeper Marathari gave Lyna one of those looks she always felt like she had just kicked a baby halla in front of Maren.

Fortunately, both she and Merrill were still very young. If the First did indeed honor her by becoming her life-mate, then they could have that awkward conversation, but it was something that needn't come up for a long, long time.

Lyna definitely wasn't in a hurry to do that any time soon anyway. This was only her twenty-first summer after all. She had her whole life ahead of her, and she planned to spend as much of that with Merrill as she possibly could.

"There are ways around that particular problem," she finally explained. "Magical ways..." she added with a wink. She had read that in a book somewhere.

"Oh... " Tamlen said. Then he blushed rather impressively. "Oh!" Hopelessly flustered, he sat back up and looked away.

"Wait. Wait!" Lyna reached out and shook his arm. "Don't you dare picture that in your head!"

The still blushing hunter held up his hands. "I'm not thinking about it. Honest!"

Lyna glared back at him as Tamlen shuddered and shook his head again like he was trying to shake the mental image out of it.

Sighing, Lyna got to her feet and picked her own discarded bow off the ground.

"I thought you were supposed to be with Master Ilen today," Tamlen asked as he did the same. "How did you get away?"

"Oh, I got out of it," came the cryptic reply as Lyna found her knives and slipped them into the sheaths suspended from her belt, "You know I prefer to hunt."

"Were you hunting deer or a certain green-eyed elf?"

Lyna snorted, but smiled conspiratorially. She hadn't really been hunting Merrill at the time, but sometimes a smart hunter would wait until their prey came to them. "None of your business, but my hunt went very successfully if you must know."

Tamlen grunted.

Both elves went immediately on alert when they heard branches breaking in the distance. Tamlen dashed for his quiver, and Lyna already had her bow strung and an arrow ready as a human blundered into the open clearing. The dirty, red-headed man only barely kept himself from falling flat on his face when he found himself confronted by two angry and very well-armed elves. Lyna couldn't believe her luck. 'Shems,' she grumbled out loud. And today had started off so well too...

End of Chapter 1

AN - I'm planning four chapters in total, though I'm not sure when you can expect the next update. I have another story that's currently my priority, plus my writing speed can best be described as "glacial" :(