When she dreams, she dreams of monsters.
These monsters, however, are not plain as Shades and Rage Demons, nor mere abominations. No, her monsters are too cleaver for simple things like that. In her dreams, she's laying in a field full of Elfroot and spindal grass, letting the warm breeze settle on her face and run thought her hair. She's totally alone for a long while, and eventually closes her eye's. She hums low in her throat, and the sounds echoes, branches out into a melody and then a verse. Another voice, low and steady, joins her.
"Tamlen?" Her voice echoes, but is still heard among the singing-her singing, which keeps going on like it's coming still from her very throat. She imagines the notes swirling around her head, dancing like little mist sprites that dwell in the far north-gentle, frost filled things.
"Hush, Pedli," Tamlen smooth's, his voice steady. With her eye's still closed, she feels him lay besides her, his weight on the ground solid and reassuring. "You'll scare away the Halla near by, and the Keeper will yell at us." The Dalish elf exhales a laugh at that, some of the grass tickling her pointed nose.
"Tamlen, I wish I could stay this way forever. I wish we could stay this way forever." The sun is making her sleepy-she never goes outside anymore. If there were more days like this, maybe she would.
"We can. I'm a hunter now, both of us are, and the Clan...they expect us to marry eventually, right? I mean-we could, you know-get married...? And-and there would be more days like this, I promise; many days, every day, if you want. We can spend all our time like this, together...If you just...say yes...?" Pedli's heart breaks into a run, her palms tingle and something clogs into her throat. The contentment of her peace is suddenly gone, and she is afraid. The young hunter somehow can't breath, is frozen to her place among the ground, cannot move. She's never felt a fear like this-the fear of immobility. She wants to move, to break into a run and scream and tell Tamlen yes, because oh, she does love him, really she does. "P-Pedli? Ar-are you-I know I just dropped this on you, but...Say something? Please?"
The ground below her rumbles and moves like a physical worm, and the warm summer air turns freezing cold. Geeseflesh ride up along her bare arms, the once woodsy scent is replaced with something bitter and sour all at the same time. The comforting darkness is gone. "Pedli?" Theres a long pause, and something is still tickling her nose. "Pedli? Pedli!? Pedli! Pedli! Pedli!"
Her eyes burst open. She's laying before a giant mirror and on cold stone steps before it-sunlight peeks though the cracked ceiling, but its wrong, too dark to be pleasant. To malevolent. The elf turns her head and chokes on the bile that rises in her throat, her stomach heaving. Somehow the sweetmeat she'd consumed before stayed inside her belly, though barely. The thing tickling her nose, it was, or had been-
The Keepers hair.
Pedli pressed her hands against her face with an anguished screech, more an animals than a dalishs-on her hands was the blood that had pooled on the floor by her, the keepers blood. More soaked her legs and arms-Merril, Ilon, the elvish children, the clan scholar-their blood ran over her body, soaked her armor though and though. Another croaked, animalistic beacon sounded from her throat, though muffled by her tears. "Don't cry," the ragged, strained voice whispered in her ear. Chills ran down her spine, but when she turned no one was there. "Please, Pedli, don't cry." A chill phantom finger wiped away a tear. The voice was a whispering deep echo in the room, without any true point of origin.
"I love you, Pedli," Tamlen gasped, and Pedli twisted her body around to the mirror. It rolled and pulled like oiled, water. Slowly a figure seeped out, a second, deeper, far raspier voice chimed in. "Pedli, let's stay like this forever, just like you said."
A ghoulish Tamlen, rotting and fierce drug another, whole body by the hair. The head was picked up and forced forward-It was another Tamlen, her Tamlen, the uncorrupted one she'd seen every day of her life forever. The ghoul drug a horrible, primitive blade against her Tamlen's neck, and all she could do was scream again and clutch empty fingers in the air-if she was a mage, surely this would be her breaking point-as his body fell to the found with a thunk. His blood poured over the steps like a tortured waterfall.
The ghoul grinned at her, its empty eye sockets wide and staring at her dead into her soul, as though he was the dread wolf himself. It help up Tamlen's severed head. "Forever, Pedli. Just...like...you...promised..." they said at the same time.
The world spun on an axis, revolting so fast she was dizzy. The scene before her was gone. Instead she looked out over the battle field of Ostagar, her soul numb and fingers shaking. Everyone was dying around her, and somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to care. The human King was a fool, though a gentle good natured one, and at the bottom on the fight below the tower she saw his downfall. She didn't cry soon after when Duncan, too, parished.
Pedli turned slowly around, facing Alastair. He was staring deeply into the fire of the signal, but turned as though sensing her gaze. "What? Are Loghain's forces crushing them that badly?" He smiled, though there was worry behind it he was obviously trying to conceal for the younger recruit. His smile faltered. "...Pedli?" His smile was gone now, and he stumbled to a window to look out. When he turned around he opened his mouth to say something, but there was a slow, soft, firm knock on the door.
Alastair unsheathed his blade, nodding grimly at the Dalish. Pedli slowly hooked an arrow in her clenched teeth on one in her spare hand, the other clipping her bow. She reached a tattooed hand out towards the door handle, letting it creak open. An army of dead soldiers stood there, heads downcast and bloody-rot reeked off them like a burning acid. In front was Caline and Duncan, who took rattling steps forward, towards her. Their blades unsheathed.
She spun to Alistair, to warn him, but when her turned he, too, was a dead thrall. He grinned at her with his empty eyes, and the army marched towards her. The elf screamed, and didn't stop screaming, even when the floor beneath her was sticky with blood and then gave way. Her body hit the ground with a jarring force-how she was still alive after a whole tower falling onto her she didn't know.
When she shoved her face off the floor and looked around, she was in a hut. A cottage, warm and woozy. Morrigan and Flemeth sat opposite her, and when the dark-haired female mage turned and stood, Pedli wanted to sob. Flemeth fell to the ground, limp. When Morrigan's eyes met hers, they were of Flemeth, the soul inside of Morrigan's body now. She lifted up her stave and started chanting, a spell lighting up her gold fox eyes in a scary, malevolent way. The room flashed.
Lothering.
The Darkspawn ran though, burning the chantry and killing everything in their path. Pedli was but a spirit, not of body to stop them, just to watch. The spawn burned Sten alive with fire and oil, and his last grunt of pain made her dry sob. Her Mabari war hound was roasting in the fire, sure to be dinner when the raid was over.
Leliana ran from the monstrous creatures chasing after her, ran with a young red-head boy she'd retrieved his dead mother momento's from, and fell. It wasnt long before the darkspawn where upon them, ripping the boy limb from limb and pulling at the red females clothes, pushing her legs apart and swarming her with their basic needs.
Pedli had to look away after that.
With each death she found herself more and more unable to try to save them, stopped caring but never feeling; Wyne was hung on top of the Circle Tower, which then was swallowed by the hungry earth. The rubbish and ashes then went under ground and fell onto Orzammar, but Oghren was already just a statue, dipped into the lava while still alive by the deranged ex-wife, Branka. She died the same way.
Then there was Zevran.
After Tamlen Pedli had tried to make up her lost feeling and move on, even a little, and she'd done well with her lover. She loved him as much as she was capable, and he accepted that. In her nightmare, though, she had the fortune of seeing him kneel before her, to see him tenderly kiss her face and neck while his hands moved down her lower back, massaging the warm muscles there and soothing her fire. His golden eye's looked at her, only her, and she reached up to softly trace over his tattoo's; he shut his eye's in her touch and leaned his head softly against her chest, in total trust.
That's when she shoved the blade though his back, into his spine and lungs. His eyes snapped open and stared at her in horror, asking her why, why had she done this? Pedli's evil mirror image never replied, only let his blood seep though her small under clothes and letting herself bathe in his gore. The last words that drifted from her lips where simply, as always in her nightmares; "I would have given you anything, my love." The added 'even my life,' didn't need to be said.
When she dreams, she dreams of monsters. Great, horrible monsters that threaten her sanity and are ruled by one, huge, colossus Archdemon, the biggest of all monsters. Pedli climbs the flaming tower to face her might dragon, unsheath's her sword and is truly ready to die, and her eyes always widen, no matter how many times she had this dream, at her monster, her Archdemon.
When she dreams, she dreams of monsters. Great horrible monsters, lead by a Archdemon boss. A boss that has blonde hair and pointed ears, empty green eyes and pale white skin. An Archdemon monster that is, quite literally, her.