I don't know what this is. Usless drabble I suppose. For some reason, I love the pairing Mahairel and Fenris.
Mahairel, the Hero of Ferelden. She was the Commander of the Wardens in Ferelden and rightly so. She was the only living Warden who had fought a blight, or so Anders told the witch, Merril. Of course Hawke and the rest of us who followed him were closely listening as well to Anders outlandish stories of the Dalish elf.
"You really knew this Mahairel, Daisy?" Varric asked disbelieving.
She nodded rather eagerly, "I grew up with her. She was like my sister."
A scoff escaped me and all eyes drew on my, I could feel Anders glaring though. "This elf can't be so great if she is 'sister' to a blood mage," I grumbled crossing my arms.
"I heard she passed though Lothering during the Blight," Hawke drawled our eyes to him like moths to fire before the abomination had time to come to the Warden's defense. "I never saw her though," Hawke shrugged.
"Ah, Hawke, it would have been a great story though! The Hero of Ferelden and The Champion of Kirkwall meeting before either of them were known by the world," Varric said smiling roguishly.
"I heard the Hero is a beauty to behold," Isabella drawled and we looked to Anders and Merril for confirmation.
Anders smiled, his eyes far away, "Oh, she is." He brought out a book and flipped through the pages until he came to a picture of a young elven woman, eyes greener than any forest, hair darker than mud, and skin a tanned bronze. Not to mention she had more than enough womanly assets.
Isabella tapped the book as if something had hit her, "That looks just like an elf I met at the pearl. She beat me at a game of diamondback her first time!"
"That has to be Mahairel, there's no one like her," Anders grinned fondly at the book.
"So, Blondie, you and the Hero of Ferelden?" Varric asked slyly cocking him a grin.
"No!" Anders shook his head, "Not that I wouldn't mind, but she was better than that," Better than you, I added silently, "I actually heard she had something with the King of Ferelden, from someone who knew both of them before they were anybody, but he had to break it off because he couldn't marry and elf."
"A human? That can't be right! Mahairel always thought that no elf should scoop so low as to do that with a human," Merril shook her head.
"Mahairel couldn't even stand the other Dalish she recruited," Anders shook his head.
I didn't bother listen to the witch and the abomination go on about the woman, but I stared at her picture on the table. She looked…so free, yet sad. How could so much freedom resort back to sadness? " I do not understand," I said gruffly.
Eyes drew to me because of my sudden words. "Understand what Fenris?" Hawke asked gently. He had become a good friend in the past years, even if we do not agree on some things.
"She looks sad," I pointed to the drawing.
Merril and Anders both went silent for a moment; eyes distant with memories.
"She's suffered much Fenris," was all Merril said.
"She still suffers," Anders nodded quietly.
Everyone knew that talking about the Hero of Ferelden was over, for tonight at least. Merril and Anders were the first to go; I decided it was best if I went back to the empty mansion for the night.
Returning to the darkness of the house wasn't anything new, but it suddenly felt more…empty. I kept seeing the woman's picture in my mind. It was a wonderful portrait that much could be said, but she shouldn't be so sad. At first glance she looked so powerful, everything like the Dalish should. At further expectation, one couldn't stop seeing the sadness in her eyes, or maybe it was just me? I was the one who brought it up.
I ran my hand through my hair roughly and decided I just needed a drink to take the edge off. Why was this woman getting to me anyways? From what I heard she protected apostates, abominations, and blood mages. Yet another story says she fought them and freed the elves of the Alienage in Denerim. "BAH!" I stomped up the half ruined steps of the mansion.
I wondered who really was this woman? She was mysterious and I wanted to know more about her; even if she was friends with the witch and abomination. It made my lyrium burn at the thought of her being as saddened as they both say. She has no right. She hasn't been a slave, like so many of our people. Instead she got the luxury of being born in the Dalish, being free. She was not haunted by a past she didn't know!
No, but she is ashamed of that freedomed past now. And she is haunted by the past that she knows too well.
I stumbled and clutched the wall so I didn't fall. What was that? Shaking, I went to the dying embers of the fireplace and kept my balance by leaning on it. Just…too much to drink. That had to be it. The voice sounded like Merrils for some reason. Was it because Merril knew of her past?
Without another thought I was bolting out of the mansion and to lowtown to the alienage. I knew where the witch lived because Hawke brought me there to get her help on occasion. She might not tell me about the Dalish elf, but I'll make her if I have to.
Everything was still until I bluggered on Merrils door, loudly enough to wake her. The door swung open though and she gaped at me. "Fenris..?"
"I need to know something," I looked away, ashamed that I was going to such lengths to know more about a woman I had never even met.
"What is it?" she asked simply, not inviting me in. I didn't want to come in, but I knew it was because of the way I treated her.
"About…Mahairel…I want to know more about her," I said harshly. I hated that I needed to know about her...but...I just needed to.
"Mahairel? Why do you care about my clansmate?" Merril asked defensively.
I growled, but I had to keep my temper down, "Because… I don't understand her."
"Few do," she murmured.
"What do you mean by that?" I demanded.
She looked up at me, green eyes almost meeting that of her old clansmate. "She was the heart and soul of my clan, Fenris, but she looses everything dear to her… I don't understand it myself. No one can; except for her…"
Merril didn't need to make herself any more clearer. I nodded and left for my mansion again. This woman, Mahairel, was brave and strong, but sad and weak at the same time. If I ever wish to understand her, I'll just have to ask her for myself….