A/N: Two chapter story set in the Lenyaverse, based on a tumblr headcanon. Post Blight, taking place during mid-DA:A, starring (almost) the whole crew + my OC Cousland Warden Evie/Evelyn. Mahariel/Velanna friendship. Warden Alistair/Mahariel pairing, light/implied sexual content/humor. Basically my attempt at humor and writing something outside my epic-sized story. I really, really enjoyed to write this one, so I hope you will do the same :D
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Chapter 1: Bonding
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"We should do what?"
The human man in front of Lenya bristled and huffed indignantly. The tension built up letting him appear less stocky than he actually was. Though his round face slowly adapting the red hue of his hair certainly compensated for the momentarily loss of volume.
Looking away was all that kept her from rolling her eyes at him and his more lanky neighboring farmer he'd bickered with for the past ten minutes. "Cut the goat in half," she repeated, and the animal in question bleated in response. Or rather, in protest. Lenya could sympathize, for it had to endure these two even longer than she had, hence this solution would be one in kind.
Somewhere outside her vision, she could hear Varel sigh, most likely with resignation. Surely, the first or second time of her holding court in the throne room he'd still tried to intervene, urged her to be more diplomatic and patient. To his credit, he'd long given up on that, and had learned quickly that Lenya was neither.
"Arlessa?" The man urged, sounding whiny, confused. It took her a moment to react, to remember that it was really her he meant with that title. Even months in after taking over the arling of Amaranthine to rebuild the Wardens, and thus her being the acting ruler of this predominately human region still felt utterly bizarre and unreal. A notion which quite a few humans shared with her, if the rumors of an assassination plot were to believed.
Been there, done that, Lenya thought, not less bored. Though she would actually prefer a dozen crows and/or nobles descending from the throne room's ceiling than listen any further to the petty squabbles of too many humans still in line for an audience. Stabbing, she could handle. Diplomacy and politics? Not so much. Alongside the utterly stupid title of 'Hero Of Ferelden' she was certain that it all belonged to a subtle but elaborate revenge plan of Queen Anora, for not sparing her father's life. That and her severe allergy to Alistair taking over this whole Arl part, of course. As if sitting here on this sorry excuse of a throne would rekindle his already tepid wish to become king and overthrow her after all. Hah, she'd bet it would rather have the exact opposite effect.
Her eyes narrowed at the thought, inwardly cursing her lover for lucking out on passing this position. And of course Alistair wasn't even there today to quell her boredom while holding court. Instead he was out in the city, looking into the same assassination plot Lenya wished to happen right now, probably even stabbing people for information.
Life wasn't fair.
The goat bleated anew, keenly reminding her that she still needed to elaborate. Straightening her hurting back, she looked back and forth between the two farmer. "Each of you is saying that the other stole the goat, thus one word stands against the other. I have no evidence to disprove either of it, so sharing the goat would be the compromise."
"But the goat -"
By Mythal, if she had to hear that man saying 'the goat is mine' one more time, she'd stand up and cleave the animal in half herself. "Isn't he your neighbor, though?" Lenya quickly cut him off.
The red-haired man frowned. "Yes, but..."
"Then he is part of your close community, even." She tried her best to not let the contempt for some of these humans' selfishness bleed into her voice. For her as a Dalish it was utterly incomprehensible how someone could argue over resources much better spent shared. "I'm aware the times are trying right now after the Blight, which is all the more a reason why you should support each other, like communities do. It is really not that hard a concept." Well, trying had here been the operative word, after all. She heard Varel sigh anew, while ushering them away.
Collectively muttering under their breath as they turned away, both men clearly were not satisfied with this solution. If its reluctance to follow was any measurement, the goat was neither.
Tough luck, Lenya thought, but seeing the sheer mass of people still waiting, she also applied these words to herself. Sinking back into the hard seat of her throne, she braced herself for the next one in line and the many hours of complains still to endure and address.
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"Stupid humans and their stupid politics," Lenya groused, far more many hours later than wished or expected.
"I agree."
She flinched upon the unexpected answer, half-expecting to see Seneshal Varel there to reel her back in after bailing on him. Apparently, his idea of unwinding after dreary hours in court included such fun things as writing report letters to the warden main quarter.
Creators, that man must be the life of every party.
Not to mention that it was somehow surprising that there was even still correspondence to be held with Weißhaupt after her first letter containing a colorful collection of her best swearing words to the First Warden. This was only to thank him for his oh so helpful support during the Blight, of course. Perhaps Varel had intercept and changed the letter before sending it. Nosy as he was, it would be fitting an action for him.
It was however Velanna who looked at her upon turning. Still undecided if this was an improvement, Lenya kept her wary stance. The couple weeks ever since she'd become a Warden had been...trying, to say the least. Not only did Velanna never miss one opportunity to make her disdain known for her relationship with Alistair, a human, but she also remembered Lenya way too much on how she'd been back in the day. Maybe this was why she showed uncharacteristically so much patience for the acerbic, standoffish behavior of her fellow Dalish.
Lenya knew too well how it was to lose someone close, to be thrown out into the world of the humans with no way to return to your old life or clan. For Velanna it was her sister instead of a best friend she'd lost, for whom she'd even joined the Wardens, in order to be able to pursue Seranni and the darkspawn holding her captive. Certainly not the most unambiguous motive to ultimately taint and damn yourself to a life of hunting darkspawn. However given the still ongoing shortage of Wardens in Ferelden, Lenya took what she could get. If only the Dalish mage wouldn't always feel the need to comment on her relationship with Alistair. Or sounding like a yesteryear version of herself, for that matter, that would be great, thanks.
"...do it."
Lenya's head snapped up, blinking at the blonde Dalish, as if in a daze. "Huh?"
Velanna rolled her eyes with an accompanying sigh, yet found the grace in herself to repeat her sentence. "I don't know how you do it."
"Because I must?" The scoff escaped her almost at its own volition but her stance relaxed in contrast. She had no desire for yet another discussion or confrontation with Velanna, not after so many hours spent talking and debating in court today. "Look, Velanna, I'm tired, hungry and not in mood to fight with you."
"Who said I want to fight?" The Dalish frowned at her, which furrowed the lines of her vallas'lin. "I simply can't understand how you can endure the constant drone of their whining. For hours, even. I would have called down lightning on their heads after mere minutes."
Lenya wanted to mention how she'd already done exactly that with a group of humans she wrongly believed responsible for her comrades' deaths and kidnapping of her sister not long ago. Though belatedly she remembered how this would very much contradict her prior words and only lead to more friction. "I was tempted to," she said instead, forcing a smile. "At least to stand up and walk out on them, that is." Idly she wondered what Varel would have done then, or why he hadn't tried to reign her in again for the task she'd abandoned.
Letting her eyes wander to the flickering, large centred hearth fire, she noticed how its warm glow drew long shadows upon the rough stone wall and its high-arched windows. Daylight was slowly fading away, making her wonder when Alistair and his party would finally return from Amaranthine City. She could really use his presence, for a hug or two, and maybe even more for losing this damn tension that had been steadily building up inside of her body all day. Lenya rolled her shoulders and hated the strain within. It wasn't the good kind of ache either, like after a battle. No her muscles and back did hurt from sitting on her ass all day. Ugh.
"Why you did stay then? Why do you always do their bidding?" Her question pierced through the stillness that had laid itself over the dormant main hall like a cloud. It was posed without the initial malice in her voice and yet Lenya couldn't help but to let out an annoyed groan.
Not this again.
She'd discussed this matter time and time again with Velanna, even seized the argument of duty she hated so much to hear herself. Feeling a pressure building up behind her skull again, she motioned Velanna to follow her. Fresh air was what Lenya needed most now, and if she wanted any answers the mage would have to pursue them in the courtyard.
Besides, leaving the stuffiness of the main hall behind also had the nice side-effect that Varel couldn't find her at first glance. Lenya liked if he had to put at least a bit effort in catching her. For all the boring, if necessary, paperwork he made her do, even after a day of court hearing, this was only fair.
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The air smelled like rain, fresh and cold. Dark clouds overhead were stealing even the remaining vestiges of daylight and heralded a downpour soon to follow.
Lenya didn't mind. She was used to Ferelden's fickle weather and its briskness, even amidst late spring. Taking a deep breath, she leaned herself back at a stone pillar, savoring the crisp smell and stillness of this place. Back in her clan, she used to break away and seek out places of solitude, whenever the commotion became too much to bear for her.
Nowadays however, with the tasks of an Arlessa added to the already weighty responsibilities of being a Warden, Ferelden's acting commander, even, she found less and less a chance for doing so. Sure, there always were these stolen moments with Alistair in between their shared duties. Not to mention these passionate nights spent entwined together, or stay in bed mornings, but these were becoming more rare and rare occasions in times of food shortages, assassination plots, and talking, intelligent darkspawn. As if a bloody archdemon hadn't been enough already.
Lenya sighed into descending darkness above, while first driblets of rain greeted and wetted her face.
"Brr," a voice said behind her, shuddering. "I do not see the point of having walls around oneself, if you are just as cold outside as you are inside these walls."
So much for peace and quiet. Turning, Lenya looked at her fellow Warden still standing in the courtyard's door frame. "It is easier to endure harsh weather like a storm on the inside of four solid walls than in a tent or aravel, believe me," Lenya offered with a shrug. "It took me some time to get used to it myself though."
Velanna eyes narrowed, their glow in the half-dark diminishing. "And now you are?"
"Sort of." Lenya watched her approaching, how she reached out to the open sky to catch the raindrops now falling in a more steady, quicker rhythm. "I still prefer open space and finding a patch of nature, whenever I can, which isn't often lately, alas."
"So I have noticed." The mage tilted her head, appraised her. "You do their bidding, live in stony buildings just like-"
"Just because I don't hug trees or live in the forest anymore, doesn't mean I am less Dalish!" Lenya burst out, fed up. "You know what? Forget it." The dramatic gesture of her departure was severely undercut by Velanna's flat palm at her shoulder, stopping her.
"Creators, I didn't mean to..." she sighed, frustrated. Falling silent, her ears twitched once, twice. Then Lenya felt something cool and heavy within her hands, before Velanna reestablished the prior generous personal space between them.
"What is this?" She looked down, recognized the object as a bottle of wine.
"A peace offering. Or rather...a thank you for the book you gave me last week. I do not like to feel indebted to you." She glanced away, then up into the rain-filled sky. "I have decided to fill its empty pages with new stories of our people. For those who come after me, be it my own children or other da'len of my- a clan."
Lenya didn't miss the hitch in her voice as she quickly corrected herself. Come to think of it, Velanna hadn't spoken of her clan yet, beyond of being a First and her derision for most of her Keeper's decisions. It seemed generally a touchy subject for her with which Lenya could well emphasize, given her own...rebellious history with her own clan. Her intent to officially bond with a human naturally didn't help to smooth matters over much either.
"You must take me for a sentimental fool," Velanna scoffed, obviously misunderstanding her silence for something negative.
"No, not all," she rushed to say before her fellow Dalish could copy the attempted dramatic of her departure just moments ago. "It is a nice idea, actually."
Y-you really think so?" Whipping around, Velanna's eyes went wide, her tone as hopeful as a child expecting praise. Not a moment later, the ever-prominent scowl found its way back into her features. "Not that I care."
Arching an eyebrow, Lenya laughed out a snort. If traveling a year with Morrigan had taught her one thing, it was the more someone emphasized their indifference for an opinion or person, the more they most likely cared about it. Unless they really were as callous and cold an ass as they pretended to be, but this was Velanna definitely not. Lonely perhaps, a bit cynical and awkward toward other people certainly, though not callous by far.
"Yes, I think so." She nodded, showing her an honest smile. "We Dalish have lost so much, most of which we can never recover. But we can always create and add new tales of and for our people. A history which is actually remembered this time."
"Ah." There flitted something akin to humor over Velanna's face, tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You mean, like the story of a Dalish Warden, who slayed an archdemon, stopped a Blight in under a year, and lived?"
"Ugh. I'm quite sick of hearing that one already." She wrinkled her nose. "At the last Arlathvhenjust months ago, there was a teenage girl, from Clan Lavellan I believe, who kept staring at me. All the time. Basically they all did that, gaping at me as if I was some kind of reincarnated elvhen god." She groaned. "Very annoying."
"Oh yes, must be so hard to be revered as hero by our People. Poor you."
Ignoring the sharp bite of sarcasm, Lenya rolled her eyes at her. "On the plus side, for all their staring, they at least didn't cook up yet another stupid title for me."
"The Hero of Ferelden," Velanna said deliberately, as if testing each of the words in her mouth. Then, she snorted. "It is indeed silly. Who came up with that?"
"Queen Anora. The Arlessa thing is also her damn fine work."
"Of course," her huff ended in a sneer, she'd come to know so well of the mage. "Humans."
"Yeah, them..." she sighed into the night. None of them spoke for a long while after that, and the pitter-patter of rain upon the cobblestone became the only audible sound. It was nice, actually. Lenya could appreciate the company of someone who didn't always feel the need to fill silence with needless words. Something Alistair had to slowly learn over time, while being with her. Not that it stopped him from falling into this old habit from time to time, nonetheless.
"Do you ever wonder how it would been, if Arlathan hadn't fallen?"
"Yes, sometimes maybe," Lenya confessed with a half-shrug. "Our people would have a permanent home then, instead of being forced to wander, I guess." She smirked at her. "Oh, and you would be much grousing less about humans then, that's for sure."
"And you would have a better taste in...your bondmate," came as deadpan answer.
This again? Though now it lacked her usual disdain, so Lenya decided to humor her. "Alistair?" She blinked rapidly, faking confusion. "What about him?"
"Ugh." Her face twisted in a scowl. "He is..."
"...different," Lenya finished, unbidden. "You know, some humans aren't bad."
"Yes, sure. Until you have outlived your usefulness to them and they try to get rid of you." The mage gave her a pointed look.
"You mean my assassination some of these petty noble assholes have allegedly planned?" Lenya shrugged, couldn't care less. "Pfft, some of my best friends wanted me dead at first. A whole army of darkspawn with an archdemon at the top definitely wanted me dead. Several antivian crows, bandits and other assassins tried to murder me as well. So it must be Tuesday."
"You are...disturbingly unfazed by all this."
Lenya snorted joylessly. "You would be too, after living through all this shit for over a year. Just give it time." Finally she managed to uncork this damn stubborn bottle with her skinning knife after battling with it for several minutes. Taking a small sip of the wine to probe its taste, her expression lightened up immediately. "Oh, this is Dalish wine. Much better than the box of sickening sweet Orlesian swill Evie just brought in from her last palace visit. A gift from the queen, or something Evie talked her into giving her, dunno. You know how good she is with politics and words. Comes with a noble upbringing, I guess."
"Yes, this human always speaks too many for my taste." Velanna squinted first at the bottle, then at her. "So you...like the wine?" She glanced away, her shoulders sagging. "It is the last thing I had left from my clan."
Upon hearing that, Lenya nearly spat out the mouthful of wine, shocked. "And you give it to me then?" she managed after swallowing and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Seeing the scowl curling back into the Dalish's expression, she hurried to add. "Not that I don't like it, I do, but shouldn't you rather keep it then?"
"Why?" Her lips pressed into a fine line. "As a sentimental monument to times past? Don't be foolish. Like I said, I simply don't like feeling indebted to you. This..." Velanna gestured to the wine bottle."...makes us even."
Lenya didn't fail to recognize the irony of Velanna -of all people- not wanting to preserve a thing from past times, though omitted to mention it. "I see," she simply said instead, nodding. "Well then, I insist on sharing the wine with you, at least."
Before the mage could protest, she ushered her back inside and toward the kitchen. "And with that I mean all of the wine."
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