Hey guys! As you may be able to see I've re-uploaded this chapter with some slight edits. It's by no means perfect but in celebration of chapter 7 being released today I decided to go through and fix some issues with the grammar and storyline. Not much is fixed but it does bear a re-reading if you'd like.
For any new readers: Hi there! Thanks for taking the time to read my little story. This tale takes place during and after the events of Dragon Age: Awakening but BEFORE the events of Dragon Age 2. There will be a sequel that will tie Dragon age 2 in as well. Also in my personal canon the events of Witch Hunt happen AFTER awakening and actually after this tale as well. You will see why by the end I promise.
Also I tried to keep in continuity with the actual game for the parts that are written here. Of course there is one extra thing I added and that would be...The Mabari hound! I couldn't have the story without him.
Chapter 1 – Awakening the memories
It was colder out than Mhairi had expected as she escorted the elven woman down a packed earthen road. Land and a fortress that had once belonged to Arl Howe was now the property of the Grey Wardens and it was their new commander who made the air feel so icy even in summer. From the corner of her eye she tried to survey the tiny woman or categorize her in some way shape or form. The word was that she had once been a normal city elf from the Alienage in Denerim until she was somehow recruited into the Wardens. It seemed plausible enough with the way that those large teal eyes darted this way and that as they walked, as though the elf was expecting an ambush at any moment, elves were often a bit timid that way. The new commander was tiny even by elven standard with black hair to the middle of her back that was worn in a simple fairly standard elven style. Her face was pretty average, not the most attractive nor least attractive elven face around, certianly by no means as beautiful as Mhairi herself was considered. The most curious thing she noticed about the newest leader of Ferelden's Grey Wardens was how she moved; almost like a cat...'or an assassin.' She added mentally. Perhaps those otherrumors were true after all. Of all these observations nothing pointed out the cause to how she made the air so very chilly with only her presence.
When Mhairi had arrived to pick her up in the wintry fortress of Soldier's Keep, the elven woman introduced herself only as Namea, and very little had been said in the three days since as they traveled. Apparently she wasn't one for conversation. It almost made her human companion wonder how those others had traveled with her for so long in the past. "So...I understand you're from Denerim?" She attempted. "I heard that in the city there is always some sort of music playing." It was a last minute attempt but the tall woman really did want her companion's approval, after all she could be her boss very soon.
A cool teal stare pinned her but the short woman's voice was polite, if distant. "I had almost never been outside the Alienage until very shortly before I was conscripted for the Wardens. Life in the place was difficult but I was content with it at the time. Be glad that you never had to go into an Alienage before..." She cleared her throat. "Before the king took his place and cleaned them up. They were dirty places, unfriendly towards humans and filled with crime and tears. The one in Denerim is the largest in Ferelden. I have been told that things are much better now that they are considered as individual Bannorns. Though I am certain there is much political tongue wagging and very little cooperation with the new elven Banns."
Mhairi almost stopped dead with her mouth hanging open, though she caught herself. It was perhaps the most Namea had said through the entire journey...in total.
Some of her shock must have showed, for the commander looked up at her with a puzzled expression. "Is there a problem, miss?"
"Well No I just –"She was cut off however by a sharp hiss from the rogue beside her.
"Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" She asked, blinking as she watched her experienced companion for any sign of movement.
"Exactly. Something must be heading in our direction or the birds would still be chirping. Hand to your weapons soldier." Obeying her own command, Namea had drawn both of the short swords strapped to her back. They were curved, of a make that the soldier couldn't quite pin down but they seemed to be made of a shimmering metal. Their hilts were plain, wrapped in leather and unadorned like most of what the commander wore.
The human reached back and drew her own long sword, sliding a large shield into its place on her left arm. The chainmail she wore rattled as the heat of battle began to creep upon her, bringing excitement and confidence. This eagerness to face what lie ahead was what endeared her to her leaders and fellow soldiers throughout her life in the army.
Namea looked over at her and almost smiled. Once she had been like that. Had it truly been that long ago? Two years, three? She thought for a moment about the young elf, fresh from the Alienage and eager to please as she stood before Duncan, the former commander of the Grey. 3 years was not a long time ago, and yet it had stripped from her that enthusiasm, leaving only a cold desire to protect her land. A cold desire to kill anything or anyone standing in the way of her duty. Would this young, lovely warrior end up the same in time? Better to die young and full of potential than grow up and realize that not all fantasies can be fulfilled.
Her thoughts shattered like fine antivan glass when the Keep soldier's footsteps became audible to her keen ears, running towards them and clearly pursued. His figure appeared and she slid forward, seeming to barely move, and yet reaching her destination in a flash. Genlocks chasing him roared at her, their grotesque faces twisted into some semblance of expression: Hatred. Darkspawn knew her, felt the taint within her, and feared her. The blood of their archdemon was on her hands and perhaps they could sense that as well for they attacked with a ferocity that could only be driven by desperate fear. Easily she cut the first down, then the second. Mhairi was at her side then, along with the soldier and the small band was defeated with a minimal amount of effort between the three capable warriors. As though by habit Namea was the last to sheathe her weapon and she glanced up at the tall woman in the winged helmet. "You're no ordinary recruit are you? A normal soldier escort would not have handled darkspawn so well." She noted, impressed in spite of herself.
The pretty woman flushed proudly and saluted. "I assumed proper introductions would be made at the keep. I am a recruit to the wardens, though I have not yet taken my joining."
Her elven commander nodded. "Very good. Our order shall be strengthened by your presence." With no further comment she looked to the bloody soldier. "I am Commander Tabris, what is going on at the keep?" She demanded coolly, placing her hand on his shoulder in what would be a comforting gesture from anyone else. From her however, the gesture paired with her cold stare was merely intimidating, and the man had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak.
"We were attacked Commander. The darkspawn swelled from below like nothing I've ever seen." He gasped. His eyes were wild and fearful but Namea just nodded as though it were to be expected. In her heart she felt a chill. From the ground? Darkspawn in numbers? How could that be when the Archdemon had fallen...it was supposed to be only stragglers now. She did not show her fear however, letting it remain to keep her alert beneath a wall of calm order.
"Get up the trail and alert the guards in Amaranthine that I will need their best. Only their best mind, the others would just be slaughtered." She ordered him. To Mhairi the elven woman turned again. "I sense them ahead, and this won't be easy. You are a competent young lady; prove that more than ever right now."
Rendered speechless, the warrior followed. Young lady? The commander could not be much older than her own 22 years she thought; then again, sometimes elves seemed to retain youthful appearances longer, even the city ones. Namea was already striking ahead on the path at an easy lope that would make a wolf jealous and Mhairi's much longer legs barely kept up. They cleared the gate and carnage met their ears and eyes. The Warden Commander stood there and within her mind, time stopped.
Before every battle it happened without fail. Her mind paused the situation and she studied it from all angles, analyzing and deciding on her course of action. The courtyard was in chaos with soldiers overwhelmed by darkspawn but she judged those men still alive and immediately found the one least likely to defeat his opponents. The world moved once more, though less than a few seconds had truly passed. She pointed towards the overwhelmed man and sent Mhairi to him before finding the thickest knot of darkspawn she could see and tearing into them with her blades. Once, she might have indulged in some battle banter, taunting her enemies and reveling in the glory of a fight. Now however she was cold, slicing throats and cutting into the weak points of armor with not a sound beside the occasional hiss of effort or small gasp when she was hit. Warm blood splashed upon her but it had been a long time since that could phase her. The seven darkspawn fell quickly and she found another overwhelmed soldier. From the moment she and the warrior recruit appeared no other men fell and soon darkspawn corpses littered the ground around them. After delivering extra bandages to the makeshift infirmary she stormed the front doors directly with the human woman in tow.
Darkspawn looked up as they entered and confusion showed in their beady eyes. A dwarf stood on the balcony, feigning terror before throwing something into the midst of the creatures, setting them all ablaze with a loud BOOM. Mentally, Namea reminded herself to find this man after the battle and ask what exactly that thing was. They cleared the fort efficiently, until upon entering a room the corpses of two templars and numerous charred darkspawn lay before them. "What are templars doing here?" Mhairi asked quietly, looking at her. The answer became apparent as a small group of hurlocks gathering around them suddenly erupted in flame and fell, explaining the charred remains around them. The smell of burning flesh filled their nostrils and together they turned to the source of the flames. From behind the blaze a man stepped, slipping the long staff he held back into its strap on his back. A mage. Namea had recognized the fire when she'd seen it, though it wasn't quite identical to the blazing attacks used by another mage she'd once known so well.
"Uh…I didn't do it." He claimed, looking down at the templar corpses. "Though I can't say I'm torn up about it…" His self satisfied smirk almost ruined the elven woman's calm exterior, though she held it by some miracle. He ran a hand through his blonde locks, still sleek in a ponytail. "The name is Anders, mage and wanted apostate, at your service." His chiseled face once more split in an arrogant grin as he raised one brow at them.
Her cool almost cracked again. His face, his voice, his mannerisms….he reminded her too much of someone, if a shorter more magically inclined version of them. She however, ignored it and lifted her chin in the usual polite distance. "I am Namea. Warden Commander of Ferelden, and I could use some help." She replied, narrowing her eyes at the robed figure.
The mage almost instantly dismissed her, instead eyeing her attractive companion. "I didn't know they made such pretty wardens…" He purred to Mhairi. The warrior was obviously not amused. "What kind of help are we talking about?"
"Help us clear the fort." The human answered, still giving him a look that said she'd rather he stop undressing her with his eyes.
Namea merely nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to be offended. To his credit, her face and hair were mostly obscured by the leather helm she wore and blood. Her armor, named Felon's Coat, also didn't particularly do much to enhance her feminine charms, not that she had much to begin with. Mhairi's breastplate armor seemed almost like it had been molded in the exact shape of her ample chest. Perhaps it had, soldiers were outfitted with custom armor all the time these days. Now was obviously not the time to be thinking such things however, and the commander shook her head, returning to the task at hand. "So come with us, or be left to your own devices, but I can see that you would be useful to us." She persuaded.
The man looked around, and then nodded. "Why not. Let's go then." Obviously he'd decided that he would fare better with two capable fighters than alone. Robes after all weren't exactly made to afford much protection against a sword or arrowhead. Vaguely Namea recalled a gruff voice saying something to the effect of "Mages are Squishy" at some point. It had been one of the soldiers from Denerim but the phrase had always stuck with her as pretty accurate.
Led by their shortest member the trio cleared their way through the keep again, saving survivors and killing darkspawn in droves until a familiar battle roar made Namea stop dead in her tracks. "It can't be…" She muttered.
It was. Amidst a hoard of snarling creatures he stood, swinging his great sword and smelling like a brewery. His flaming red hair was visible even as he was surrounded, but the darkspawn clogging his path fell easily beneath the strokes of the warrior dwarf's berserker skill. When the room was filled with corpses he gave a loud whoop and vaulted the railing, landing before the little group. "I knew if I waited here long enough ya'd come!" He cheered, slapping the elven commander on the back hard enough to make her knees buckle. The impact of his massive gloves against her leather would certainly leave a bruise. That was Oghren's way though. Sometimes his affections left friends more injured than the animosities of the darkspawn.
"He was here when I left." Mhairi spoke disdainfully. "Drunken lout."
"Well…a dwarf that smells like a brewery, what a surprise." Anders chuckled, echoing Namea's own earlier thoughts of Oghren's usual body odor.
At his familiarity with their diminutive leader Mhairi paused. "You know this dwarf Commander?"
She nodded. "Oghren is an old friend and a powerful warrior. He is partially responsible for the end of the blight." Her tone conveyed that any slander against him could possibly result in a well placed dagger in the dark of night. "What are you doing here?" She asked the stout man.
"Thought I'd come here and become a bona-fide Grey Warden!" He exclaimed joyfully, brandishing his sword at the air.
The human warrior blinked once, then twice and slowly spoke, choosing her words carefully so as not to offend the cold short woman she'd escorted this far. "I suppose all are needed to combat the darkspawn…" Her tone however said she was doubtful.
He chuckled and ran a hand through the shock of spiky hair on his head, then down over his intricately braided beard. "And a pretty lady like 'yerself would know would yeh? Dying to get a taste of ole' Oghren's Hammershaft…if ya know what I mean…"
Anders mimed gagging. Namea stood with her arms crossed but the corners of her mouth twitched just slightly. The tall woman just stared in blatant disgust before turning away with an expression that said she would probably rather mate with a Hurlock.
"Yer damn dog ran off with that bard before I could drag him along with me." The dwarf snorted. "I bet he'll be back…stupid mutt never could stay away from yeh fer long."
Nodding, the commander turned then led them through the remainder keep, finding it to their shock, clear. As they reached the back however, nightmares came to life. A talking Hurlock held a man captive, the Seneschal of the keep, according to Mhairi. Its voice was a syllabant hiss like gravel over tree bark. Even its words were not broken but said with an obvious intelligence and calculation. It sent a shiver down the elven woman's spine.
Talking darkspawn. Now Namea had seen it all. The group with it she left to her followers, they were more than capable of taking on such opponents. She however went after the mysterious talking creature; striking him from stealth and making him release the middle aged man in surprise. He struck back at her, stronger than any darkspawn she'd ever faced, and much more intelligent. This one didn't merely hack and hope it hit like the others. He watched her move, countered her strikes and timed his own. It was like fighting another intelligent person, which frightened the warden commander and excited her all at once. Finally however he fell to her superior speed, signaling the end of the attack on Vigil's Keep. She helped his near victim up and bowed. "It appears I arrived just in time."
Seneschal Varel nodded. "That you did. I have never seen a darkspawn like that before, but it is bound to mean something unpleasant." The call of a great horn alerted them and he looked up. "The king and his men are here at last, but I fear they are too late. You and your chosen party are an army unto yourselves it would seem." He brushed dirt from his shirt and looked to the distance. He had to be at least fifty but he held himself tall like a young man and spoke with a strong, if weary tone.
The elf shrugged. "Darkspawn die easily enough. These three are brave beyond any average soldier, without them this keep would be gone."
Oghren stuck his chest out proudly, grinning broadly and nodding. Mhairi smiled shyly, surprised but honoured by the compliment as Anders merely shrugged and concentrated on making sure his hair was not disheveled. The Seneschal smiled at them all. "Then we are glad you were here. Come Commander and friends, let us go meet the king and tell him of your timely rescue."
When he mentioned meeting the king Namea visibly paled, though only Oghren noticed, and the others walked ahead while he placed a hand on her shoulder with a gentleness that few would guess he possessed. "Be strong friend. Take this battle with ya like a strong drink and wear it like a cloak that makes ya invulnerable. Nothin' and nobody can hammer you down and that includes pretty-boy king out there." He smiled then and pushed her before him as though afraid she'd bolt. Little chance of that. They rejoined the others and quickly Varel had her in the lead beside him as though she were some sort of vanguard or hero. In reality, at the moment, she felt like nothing more than a woman. A woman about to see someone for the first time since they'd broken her heart.