A/N:
This story took a hellova lot of research on my part. Mostly for the qunari words. I will provide translations at the end.
Fair warning. I really suck at writing fight scenes, but my muse would not let me rest until I finished it. So please enjoy~
Blades stained crimson, chest rising and falling with staggered breaths, screams coming from every direction. It was chaos. An attack like this should have been suspected, and yet Ferelden was still taken by surprise. The Qunari attacked from seemingly nowhere and everywhere, slaughtering everything in their path. Both Fereldan and Orlais were still weakened from two wars and simply stood no chance of pulling together in such short notice. Not that they would willingly, to begin with.
In an attempt to bolster Fereldan forces, Evgenii rallied as many of her Grey Warden brethren as she could and led them into battle. Under her returned leadership she was determined to bring back their honor and standing as an order and with the Maker's blessing, turn the tide of war.
Lost in the sea of colliding forces, the pale elven commander could not spot any of her own. The constant clash of steel around gave little opportunity to locate any of them. It filled her heart with dread and worry, but she did not let that hinder her. If they fell, they fell for a just cause. All that was remained was hope that some of them survived.
Another barrage of spears rained down around her and Evgenii barely managed to dodge them Her arms stung where a few sliced around her armor. She pushed forward. There was one way that she knew of to stop the horde and that was to take down their commander. The difficult part was locating him. There were specific armor types and vitaar, but each Qunari blended with the next when she was trying to defend herself and search.
Her twin daggers halted a claymore ready to tear into a downed soldier. She deflected the blade with some difficulty and stood between them. Karashok, she noted from quickly.
"Katara!" hissed the elf as she ran at the warrior.
The Qunari reaver swung his blade down, connecting with nothing but the dusty dirt of the battlefield. In a cloud of smoke, she disappeared, reappearing behind the hulking man and burying her daggers to the hilt in his back. He growled seeming unfazed by her attack and thrash about to throw her off, but Evgenii had learned from past battles with these beasts. The large blade clattered to the ground and the Karashok swiped at her.
The warden pulled one blade free and stabbed repeatedly at the back of his neck, her target being missed several times due to the thrashing and grabbing. Finally, her blade struck home. She twists for good measure and held on as he crumpled to the ground. Evgenii stood, looming over the corpse and pulled her daggers free from the gushing flesh. Out of habit, she wiped them on her legs, doing little to clean the already stained steel.
Another spear whirred passed her and she growled. Sheathing her daggers, she quickly scooped up a discarded bow, notched an arrow and took aim at the Ashaad. Ever so slightly her hands quivered from exhaustion and she took a deep breath to steady it. The first arrow was released on exhale, and two more followed after in rapid succession. The first impaled the qunari's arm and the other two pierced his chest. Another arrow waited, unsure if the first three were really enough to bring down the spearman. Her grip loosened once he fell out of view
At that moment the elf wished she still had her friends to fight beside her. Having them protect her while she tore into stronger enemies was a privilege she never knew she had until they separated and went their own ways.
There was not the time for such sentiment. Evgenii shook her head to clear her thoughts and focused on the battlefield once more. There was nothing to visually signify where the horde's leader was. There was no other choice than to hack through the never ending troops until she found them, and mark them out for the rest of the army.
The elf took to the shadows, dashing and dodging through one bloody skirmish after another, and slashing out the occasional qunari that overpowered any nearby troops. Just by what was before her, it was clear the battle was not going well. Many bodies scattered the fields, far more of them being human than qunari. This target needed to be found and fast.
A blade pierced the ground in front of her, Warden Commander taking her by surprise and impeding her advance. She side stepped and stumbled around the weapon, skidding across the rock. The Warden-Commander was back on her feet in an instant, dagger at the ready. It seemed the blade was void of its owner, though. None of the forces battling around her moved to retrieve it. Perhaps all it was was a wayward weapon knocked from its owner in a skirmish. Scoffing, she turned and walked away when a glint from the blade's grip caught her eye. Woven into on the loops on either side of the grip was a short worn leather string with what appeared to be a dragonling's tooth at the end of it. Violet eyes traveled the grooves and sharp edges of this sword and the more she saw the more clear an old memory became. Asala.
This blade did not just happen to fall here. She figured that out just a hair too late. Thick bronze fingers curled around the grip and her eyes followed them up. Two piercing gold eyes met with her violet ones and a sense of dread built in her chest.
"Sten?" her voice was broken and hoarse from yelling.
The hornless qunari stood up straight, pulling Asala from the ground and holding it beside him.
"It is Arishok now… Kadan."
The armor confirmed it. No longer was he a lost Sten soldier. He was the powerful leader of this army. Eve's target. All her emotions flared, then were locked away tightly. This was no time to let foolish feelings get in the way. Her old companion would read them on her face like an open book, and leave her vulnerable.
The Arishok raised his hand and the surrounding men backed off, giving them space. The electricity in the air made the hair on the back of her neck stand and her skin crawl. She turned her daggers nervously in each hand.
"I was really hoping you were not going to be among this army, my friend."
"As was I."
The two of them slowly began to circle. One of them was not going to be walking away from this. That was understood years ago before he departed.
"You look well," she mumbled and gave a weak, cock grin.
The Arishok scowled, "Parshaara. Do not let this drag on, Warden."
Evgenii sighed, extending one of her blades out towards him like she used to when they sparred, "Agreed. I will not waste your time any longer my friend."
The Arishok raised his blade and brought it against hers. Their sign of honor and agreement to one another. Evgenii caught his eyes once more, her smile taking on a sad tone. With all of her might, she swung both blades against his, knocking it out of the way and running for him. It was a common first step for her and it usually ended in at least one successful blow. A second blade appears in his free hand and deflected her blow. For a moment she was confused, and the Qunari leader swung. She sidestepped the swing but took a hard hit from his shoulder. The blow knocked her ass and flung one dagger from her hand. The elf jumped back to her feet and glared at the bronze male. This was not going to be an easy fight, she knew that. She also knew she could not rely on her old memories of his fighting style. Ten years gave him ample opportunity to train, where she was idle. She no longer had the upper hand like she once did.
The glint of his blade was spotted far too late. As she scrambled to move out of the way his sword pierced her chest. Violet eyes widened and she choked on a breath.
"S-Sten?" she blinked at him, then the shock slowly melted into a grin, "Silly man."
The visage of the impaled elf faded away. A Decoy. The giant spun and glimpsed her white hair at the edge of his vision before it grew blurry. A thick sickly green cloud formed around him and he scowled. Did she believe these weak toxins would affect him? The years have made her foolish.
"Forgive me, my friend," her voice floated about like the miasma, coming from all directions, "I never truly wished this day to come."
A cut opened on his arm and crimson bloomed from the wound. The Arishok turned, face completely calm, but the thick choking smoke hung thickly, blocking his vision. More wounds like the first one started appearing across his body. These tricks were trying his patience. If the warden was a real warrior like she once was she would have already struck him down. This pointless dance of hiding and slice was unnecessarily postponing the end. With a rumbling growl, the Arishok raised his blades above his head and slammed them into the ground. A shock wave burst out, making the ground tremble under his strength and forcing the miasma to finally disperse.
Releasing one blade he turned and caught Evgenii in mid-air. His hands squeezed her throat cutting off her oxygen. The elf thrashed, dropping her weapons and clawed at his arm. For a brief panicked moment, she believed he was going to snap her neck right there. Knowing the qunari's strength it would be an easy task. A simple flick of the wrist and she would be another corpse on the ground. But it was not in her person to make things easy.
Drawing an air of peace to her mind, Evgenii grew still in, her hands still gripping his wrist. Her legs swung up, wrapped them around his forearm and twisted. Her upper torso going one way and the lower another. There was a stomach churning pop. The pressure disappeared and she landed unsteadily on her feet, gulping down large gasps of stale air.
Adrenaline burst through her system from the near death and her frantic brain demanded revenge. Her body moved on its own, picking up one of the many discarded sword lying around and rushed him. Her momentum and heightened strength assisted in tackling the Arishok to the ground. The worn blade rose above her head, both hands holding it in a death grip and she plunged it down.
But hesitation kicked back in at the last second. She looked down at the Arishok, no her friend, Sten. A man she never dreamed of saving or teaming up with. All the times they saved one another. All the long nights spent talking on philosophical levels or sparring when she could not find sleep. The smile she won from him when she presented him with his lost sword. Even her foolish attempt at trying to bring down a dragon to get him a dragon's tooth. It all came flooding back at the worst possible time and she realized one thing.
She couldn't do it.
The sharp edge of the sword froze, the very tip piercing the skin of his chest. Her eyes were wide and wild as she stared blindly down at his unfazed expression. Hot tears dripped onto the back of her palms and her chapped lips parted.
"I… Can't…"
Evgenii stood, sword still loose in her grip and faces away. The quiet clink of armor alerted her to the hulking man rising to his feet and she knew now what was going to happen. If she could not, he would. No point in putting it off any longer. She spun on her toes and chucked the sword as hard as she could.
The feeble attack was deflected and he advanced. A searing pain budded in her abdomen before her eyes could register his attack. The pain spread until even her fingers tingled with its strength. Evgenii reached down with both hands and gripped at the great sword, pulling herself free. Crimson spurted out staining the battlements in an alarming amount. She smiles through the pain. That pride filled and saddening expression stretched across her face as she stumbled back and crumpled to her knees.
The world spun for a moment and she fought to focus on the outline of her old companion, her friend, her demise. The elf flopped back, sprawling across the cold ground and staring up into the smoke clouded skies.
The Arishok stood over her, his expression finally cracking in a small enough way that she could see the slightest hints of sorrow seep through. Her smile softened and she chuckled, quickly turning into coughing up some blood.
"You finally bested me," she joked, not unlike herself, "What's the s-score now? 15 to 1?"
The warmth was escaping her now. Limbs felt numb and almost impossible to move. Each breath felt thick like molasses and hard to take in. She gazed up and her friend and struggled to reach for the cord around her neck. She pulled it free of her armor and folded her fingers around the other half of the dragonling's tooth.
Her vision was growing dark now. She should have been more afraid. Any normal person would be, but she was at peace. There was no better way for her to leave this world. The alternative would be in the deep roads lost to the army of darkspawn that ruled there. She fought through the heaviness in her eyelids and stared up at the Arishok, his blade at the ready to end her suffering. She nodded and let her eyes slip shut for the final time.
"Panahedan, Kadan."
FIN
A/N:
Most if not all of these are from DA's wiki page. I tried. lol
Karashok: Infantry private
Katara: (You) die, as in "Die, thing!"
Ashaad: Scout
Parshaara: "Enough."
Panahedan: "Goodbye." Literally, "take refuge in safety."
Kadan: Literally, "where the heart lies;" friend. An all-purpose word for a "person one cares about," including colleagues, friends and loved ones. Also, means "the center of the chest." (This one is kinda obvious but I added this one to show Eve and Sten were friends, not lovers.)
Thank you for reading!