Disclaimer. The Dragon Age story is owned by Bioware. Any characters used are simply an homage and not owned by me.
Summary: A young woman who spends her life reading and indulging in romance and myths finds herself in a place she never thought possible and was all too familiar with.
A Rose, by any other name...
Nice, Saleya market, France, present day.
She stood staring at the bustling market district. It was crowded full of people from all walks of life, tourists with their fancy Nikon cameras, locals choosing produce for their family meals, merchants and beggars. The air was hazy with heat and smoke, and smelt of spices, incense and fish.
She stood out in the sea of colourful tents and scarves, a figure clad in tight black jeans, tank top and boots, long thick wavy black hair hung past her waist and her dark brown eyes enhanced with eyeliner, her only colour being the purple hoodie tied round her waist and the blood red lipstick she favoured. Rose Kirkwood was still in her "gothic phase" as her mother had called it, but considering she was 21 and had had the style for a number of years she thought she was well passed being described as a phase by now. As long as she could remember she had always had a fondness for romance, fantasy and myths. As child she poured over books that allowed her to indulge in stories of Knights, Dragons and fairytales. She had even managed to turn her interests into a career.
It was this career that had lead her being in Nice that day. Rose had been to a medieval re-enactment convention, one of the largest in France where enthusiasts travelled from all over to visit and spend a long weekend escaping the monotony of modern life and live as heroes, wenches or pirates, just for a few days. She had a stall there selling corsets, leather armour and other such finery. She had a keen eye and talent for such creations and had already become well known. As well as being paid by the events managers to appear with a stall she had made a lot of money peddling her wares.
Wincing slightly she shifted the large rucksacks on her pack. She had sent as much as she could with the guys who helped run her stall and they were currently driving in a van with the large shop tent and any leftover merchandise that didn't sell north to catch the ferry back to England. She allowed herself a few days exploration before heading back home herself. Feeling the material digging into her shoulders from her heavy bags she felt a pang of regret for indulging in luxuries while she had camped for 4 days. Her bags weighed heavy with luxuries like her solar powered iPod dock, kinetic torch, and extra thick roll up mattress to sleep on. She didn't mind camping but still a part of her enjoyed the finer things of modern life.
Rose began to meander through the market, careful not to knock over any of the antiques in the stall or bump into people. She was hungry so visited the food stalls to fill the void in her stomach that was growling at her. She stopped at the crepe stand and tried her best to ask from a ham and cheese crepe, knowing her French skills where poor at pest. Eventually she got what she wanted and was trying her best not burn her mouth on molten rich cheese as she wolfed down her lunch. She did love the food there, especially the cheese. If there was one thing the French did right, it was the cheese. With that in mind she noticed a cheese store and bought a number of cheese that the shop owner vacuum packed to make it last for travelling back home. "Well", she though "that's enough cheese to keep me going for a while at least, I will have to work that off in the gym for a couple of weeks." She then took a leisurely pace around the market making her purchases. There were some North African stalls selling spices so she picked up some rare ones for her spice rack at home, as well as a large amount of cinnamon that was more pungent and deep in colour than any of the plastic wrapped cinnamon she would get back home.
Rose spent the best part of an hour exploring the market and the corner of the city it was located. As she stopped to rest and gulp some of her water a breeze picked up swirling her long raven locks around her head. She picked up a sent then, something she could not place. It was like...campfire...something floral...and strangely...wet dog...and then something...something else that she really could not place. She looked round and saw an antique shop in the corner, its contents spilling out on the street on tables. At first look it seemed like a lot of junk but on inspection there were some nice pieces, some gothic style goblets, costume jewellery and other such trinkets. Carefully she went inside, trying her best not to destroy with her overstuffed rucksacks and her now overstuffed shopping bag. The shop was dark, smoky and dusty. Rose could see dust particles dancing the streams of sunlight that managed to break through the small and rather dirty windows. She took her tine looking through the treasure trove and stopped when she found a beautiful hand mirror. It was golden, probably just copper with gold leaf on top she guessed. It was ornately decorated with leaves and thorns and bejewelled with tiny gems that sparkled. She turned it over and saw the mirror glass was in decent condition, not perfect, her reflection was slightly warped but still functional. As she turned it slightly she jumped and nearly dropped it when she saw the reflection of an old woman behind her shoulder.
"Oh! Sorry..sorry...you scared me...I ...eh" Rose realised she should probably try her French skills again to apologise but found the woman staring at her and smirking. To her surprise the woman spoke English without a hint of a French accent.
"My apologies child, I didn't mean to startle you". Her voice was deep and husky and vaguely familiar, he stare was unwavering and slightly unnerving as Rose noticed her eyes were a hawk like gold...almost yellow. The stood in contrast to the white of the woman's hair.
"I see you like the hand mirror, a slightly gaudy bauble but it has its charm" The old woman give a slight husky laugh. Rose glanced down at the trinket. "Oh yes, it's quite pretty...I would actually like to purchase I think, there is no price on it"
The old woman motioned to the counter that had an antique register. Rose followed her with a slight nervousness in her stomach, she didn't know why but this woman unnerved her.
"You know I wasn't expecting you accent...I thought I was going to have to embarrass myself with my poor attempt at French again" Rose babbled. It made the old woman laugh ruefully. "
Ah no child, like you I am from a far of land, and am also just a visitor". Rose smiled shyly, she liked how this woman talked, it was almost...archaic.
They bartered over the mirror and finally settled on 50 Euro. The old woman wrapped her purchase up and Rose placed it in her rucksack amongst her clothes, hoping they would protect it from breaks.
The old woman regarded her carefully, clearly pondering the girl that stood in front of her.
"You have a love of these things don't you, ornate, historical items!, Rose nodded enthusiastically.
"Well then if you are interested there is a particular piece in the back room that you may have an interest in...I have a...feeling...it's just for you"
Rose looked in the direction the old woman indicated and started to walk to it, not noticing the smile on the woman's face as Rose did just as she asked. As she walked into the room the smell from outside got stronger and stronger...campfire...something floral...wet dog...and again that one thing she could not place. In the corner of the room was a large mirror, it was taller than she was and was flanked by intricate statues. The craftsmanship was impressive, there were symbols and words from a language she did not know inscribed on it. It was a unique piece, Rose wondered how much it would cost to have it transported to her house. She moved close and noticed that the mirror glass was in perfect condition, it was almost liquid like. The unusual smell was powerful now, almost intoxicating. Rose slowly lifted her hand to touch the class. Just a second before her finger connected, the old woman was behind her, but she looked different now. She was wearing robes of some description, and she whispered "Tell Morrigan I said hello".
Rose's eyes widened in shock as the woman disappeared, she stared at her reflection in the mirror than suddenly had a purple haze and has ripple effects on it like unseen raindrops falling on water. Transfixed Rose saw her reflection morph into another scene, darkness, death, hordes of ...things...she didn't understand what was seeing...and a..."no...that is not what I think it is" she thought "is that a dragon?!" Her eyes could not leave the scene and then it began to morph again. This time there were two figures staring back at her. They were strange, they looked like people but something was different, they seemed ethereal, more lithe...and she though she saw the hint of a pointed ear. Suddenly she felt a tug on her hand that was connected to the mirror, a force grabbed her and propelled her forward in to the mirror, she never even had a chance to scream.
She landed with a thud face first, her bags behind her making her fall heavy. She cracked her head on a rock of some sort. Dazed, her vision blurred. Her stomach rolled and she dimly noticed tow other figures laying close by, seemingly unmoving. She tried to get up but the dizziness increased. Suddenly she was aware of another presence, hands on her strong ones, turning her around. She could vaguely hear something being said but she couldn't make it out. She allowed her eyes to focus on the figure holding her. It was a man, he was dark skinned, handsome she noticed, for an older guy. A dark thick but neat beard adorned his face and she thought maybe he had longer hair that was tied up. She noticed a single earring in his ear. In her delirious state she smiled and muttered "shiny..." as a wave of darkness came over her and her eyes shut as she finally passed out.