I've been addicted to Dragon Age II lately and this little beauty came up. I hope you enjoy my cute little elf's story.

Don't own DA. If I did I would totally not be writing Fanfiction about it (lie).


A small elven boy runs into the snowy low town markets and frantically waves his arms, his breath looking like smoke.
"Somebody help! Please!" He yells in anguish just in front of the Hanged Man. The door opens and a stout dwarf walks out of the tavern. The elf boy continues his desperate pleas despite the frozen substance beneath his bare feet.
"Please help her! She's hurt real bad! Anybody!" He shouts again. The blond dwarf walks over to the boy, not catching his attention.
"Will someone help her? Please save her! Don't let her die!" He yells to anyone willing to listen. The dwarf blinks and rubs his arms.

"And you'll die if you don't wear more clothes, kid. Who are you yelling about? I'll see what I can do for her." The dwarf kindly says with a smile. The boy awkwardly steps back.

"Why would a dwarf help? What are- forget it, we have to hurry." The elf boy runs quickly around the corner, faster than the dwarf can manage. He turns the corner to see the boy turn, yet another. Now in a full sprint, the dwarf turns the last corner carefully and scans the snowy area, recognizing the area quickly.

"That's the elven alienage. Possibly the most depressing place in Kirkwall." The dwarf states with a steamy sigh. He walks down the alleyway to the downward steps. He spots an elf laying in a snow pile on the ground just at the corner before the steps down into the alienage. The elf is struggling to breathe and is holding her thin neck. The dwarf kneels in the snow in front of the elf and moves to touch her shoulder, only to notice how much blood is coated on her. She shifts and before he could look at her expression he gets his hand slapped away by the elf.

"Do not touch me." The thick-accented, sultry and tired voice that found it's way out of the small elf could only scream danger to the dwarf. He laughs nervously and the elf frowns at his amusement then pants out steamy breaths.

"I am but a dwarf. Just a humble dwarf trying to help. Tell me what happened, Snowball." The dwarf tries to reassure the injured elf by smiling at her while he talks, but the elf never breaks her cold stare of suspicion as the dwarf notices his charm has failed. After a moment of silence, she finally clicks her tongue.

"Damn mercenaries hurt my neck. But answer me this, dwarf." She pauses and breathes out, "The poor have it, the rich need it. If you eat it, you'll die. What is it?" The elf looks on the verge of death as she mumbles outs her riddle, her Antivian accent adding more of an appeal to his ears. He furrows his brows as he thinks. A frail chuckle interupts his thoughts.
"Nothing..." The soft whisper comes with a sigh. Her azure eyes stare into the dwarf's brown ones as he chuckles a bit.

"Clever. The poor have nothing. The rich need nothing. If you eat nothing, you die. Very clever." The dwarf quickly stops himself then becomes serious, "You need help. Don't make jokes." The dwarf notices the girl isn't staring at him anymore and he swallows hard, "Shit, shit, shit!"

The dwarf finds some elves that fetch a blanket and they wrap the blanket around her broken neck to keep it from moving. They carefully carry her into the Hanged Man. The smell of bad booze and desperation smacks each man in the face. The beardless dwarf leads them to his rented suite and steals a bedroll from the next room over. Once they manage to settle the girl onto the bedroll, the dwarf attempts to pay the elven men who helped him, but they pnly smile at him, holding their hands up in defense.
"No, we helped our kin, no need for payment." The taller elf says with a nervous laugh. The dwarf shakes his head at the polite elves, throwing the coinpurse at them anyway.

"Nonsense, I know how much you elves struggle down there, it's the least I could do." The elf boys squeeze the coinpurse from the dwarf against their chests as they bow and walk out. The dwarf shuts the door and walks to the unconscious girl. He drops on the floor and sighs, scratching his hairy chest.
"Now what do I do? Dammit, Varric! Plans would be nice." Varric scolds himself then he remembers where he is, "What am I saying? I'm in the town hotspot. Has to be some mages in here." Varric grins as he walks out the door, closing it softly. Varric spots a Mage, only from his robes and solitary seating. He approaches the blond human and sits across from him, earning a strange look from the mage, "Excuse me, but do you dabble in a little art called healing?" As soon as Varric said his sentence, the man became edgey, not surprisingly. The Templars are cracking down on the mages who aren't with the Circle, the apostates.
The man lays his tankard on the table, squeezing it rather harshly.

"I think you have the wrong person, magic is outlawed unless you are in the Circle." Varric sees through this man's pathetic act and hops from the chair and signals the man to follow. Varric leads the man to his door, watching him closely just incase the observation is wrong. They stand outside the door and Varric opens the door to show the mage his ordeal. The mage hurriedly walks toward the girl.
"What is wrong with this poor girl?" The man says worriedly as Varric closes the door.

"She was attacked and they hurt her neck. So, do you have healing magic, Mage?" Varric impatiently says, the man only sighs and closes his eyes.

"It's Anders. Yes, I heal many people at my clinic in Darktown." He pauses to inspect her neck, "Normally not this severe though. Her neck appears to be broken." Anders removes the heavy armor, setting it against the wall, then starts to gather blue energy in his palms.

"I'm Varric Tethras and as you can see, I've had a busy night." Varric jokes and sits on the other side of the girl's bedroll.

"How did you find her? And who's "they"? Templars?" Anders questions, a bit of concern in his voice. Varric smirks, this man is a stereotypical Mage, blames everything on the Templars.

"Mercenaries did it, actually. At least, that's what she claims. I was led to the alienage by a little elf boy, who was screaming in front of the Hanged Man. He disappeared, but I saw her in a ball of snow. She could barely breathe, yet she threw a riddle at me." Varric laughs, amused about his new friend. Anders raised an eyebrow at the half lit dwarf, finishing his healing spell as his hands return to normal.

"Unusual. What was the riddle?" Anders questions with a quick sigh, still examining the elf for any other injuries.

"The poor have it and the rich need it. If you eat it, you'll die." Varric recites as Anders blinks. Varric frowns as he thinks of this town. The elf's have nothing, the humans have it all.

"I'm at a loss, what was the answer?" Anders furrows his brows as he breaks. Varric doesn't smile as he looks at Anders.

"Nothing. It got me, too. I feel so cruel because it's this town through and through. There is always someone who comes into your life that will challenge your views, either adding one or changing one." Varric crosses his arms and sighs again, "Don't worry, Blondie. Your secret's safe with me." Anders nods.

"I appreciate it. I fear this is just the beginning of her treatments, though. I'll be checking on her daily; give her one of these poultices twice a day. Write me if she does anything unusual between visits. Try to keep her out of the armor, her underclothes should be enough." Anders stands and heads for the door, probably going back to drinking or back to his clinic. Varric looks down at the unarmored girl and sighs, getting into his nearby bed.

"Goodnight, Snowball." Varric quickly passes out thanks to the alcohol he had earlier. The room erupting in soft snores and an eerie red glow from the middle of the room...

[write font:HoeflerText-Regular size:20.00 bg:{1.0000, 1.0000} end]