Dragon Age 2: Working Title: Exile
I Do Not own the Rights to Dragon age, and long odds on me owning 'em to anything else you may recognize.
Exile 1
The powdery snow whipped in small whirlwinds as the small blizzard continued to coat the quiet evergreen forest in a white shroud. Outside of the strong gusts of wind buffeting the cloaked woman plodding her way south on the snow covered road, all was peaceful. It was so nice, that it would have been possible for her to forget the war the embroiled the entire world if she wasn't waist deep in its affairs. She snuggled deeper into her fur lined coat and pulled the hood of her cloak to further down over her face. Even in all of the fur lined clothes, she still shivered in the cold. She had forgotten how cold it was in Ferelden during… anytime, much less the middle of winter. Being in the Frostback Mountains did not help either. She sighed deeply, the exhaled breath shooting in a plume.
She tried to enjoy the peace, though, and let her mind wander away from the tip of her staff as it picked at the ground in front of her. This was actually the first time in… well, a very long time she could just take a look back at how she got to this point. 10 years in Kirkwall, making friends, finding love, and sort of starting a war which consumed the entire land of Thedas came readily to mind. That, along with when her status changed from Dalish Elf, to City Elf, to Human Noble all within the span of a week. She chuckled dryly to herself, and then frowned as she recalled all that she had lost to get to that point. After killing her mother, who had been possessed by a demon, she hit the lowest point she had every experienced in her short life. She felt completely alone, but he had broken though her funk and reminded her that, "whatever you do next, we do it together." But then there was also the time she overheard the enchantment dwarf talking to… himself apparently. But the tone and tension in his voice haunted her to this day.
"One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see." The following break out and revolt of all of the Circles in Thedas seemed to lend an ominous air to the chilling portend. She turned down a small, disused path that led back behind a large outcropping of snow covered rock. Further down the trail, a dark cave moth opened in the face of a granite wall. She walked in, the leather soles of her boot making scuffing noises where hay flooring was worn down to the stone. About fifty meters into the cave, it twisted at a 90 degree angle, and met a checkpoint guarded buy two heavily clothed soldiers wielding crossbows and long swords, one consulting a long roll of paper. She paused, and woman in a patched dress and two swaddled children was talking to the guards, and quite obviously very upset. After a long, onside conversation oh her talking, and the guard looking over her skeptically, he gestured for a pause, and began reading off of the roll again. She shivered as she listened to the rules again.
The first pulled her hood off, revealing a mane of thick shoulder length black hair, bangs drooping over her fore head, and partially obscuring the tattoos printed there. The tattoos covered the whole of her face, but did not detract from it. Large, green yellow eyes, a large, hooked nose, and small mouth and the pointed ears rounded out her prominent features. Coupled with her rail thin body, she was Pretty, but not beautiful. She was cute, very cute, but not conceded about it. She untied the neck string on the cloak, and shrugged it off into her hand, and folded it in half over her arm. Her outfit consisted of a set of thermal under garments, under a pair of tight, fur-lined pants, and matching vest along with a pair of fingerless fur gloves. She walked up to the woman in the patched dress and tapped her shoulder. The woman turned, her frustration turning to surprise as she looked down at the Elven woman.
"Here, take this." She said an offered the thick cloak. The other woman looked bewildered and simply stared. "Really," she continued, "freezing won't help you out at all, trust me." The woman reached and slowly accepted the cloak.
"Uh, thank you, Ma'am." She bowed slightly, and began working the cloak open and on. The Elf nodded, and walked up to the guard with the roll of paper.
Morning, Vic, what's the hassle?"
"This woman here refuses to present arms for inspection, Ma'am."
"But I have told him, I don't have any arms!" The Elf looked surprised.
"Really, none at all?" She asked, and the woman nodded.
"Damn, I haven't seen that in a long time. That's no good, here." The Elf reached under her vest and felt around for a second, before pulling out a six inch knife in a leather sheath. She handed it to the woman. "There you are, Serah, that clears it up, want to give her the once over so we can get on with this?" The Guard she called Vic nodded and took the woman's newly acquired weapon, and began going over the rules of the colony with her. The other guard helped the young Elvish Woman. She handed him her walking stick, and he examined it closely.
It had a core of Ironwood woven with metal alloys then covered in a black, glossy coating. The heads of three different height little dragons stared in three different directions from the top of the staff. It had belonged at one point to the late First Enchanter of the Kirkwall Circle, but as he was no longer needing it, she had received it from her husband after Orsino's death. While visiting Redcliff, she had had a blade, slender and long, grafted to the lower point of the staff for more effect in close combat situations.
"Anything else, Ma'am?" the guard said after his examination.
"Yes." The Woman replied, pulling up the bottom of her under shirt slightly and fishing out a small Elvish Knife. Her hand brushed the long, curving scar that had been carved by an assassin's blade when they were still hiding in the Free Marches. That was the first time the little knife, given to her by Hawke, had saved her life. The training that Isabela had patiently given her had helped as well. Her magic had not been able to help, as an ex-templar had been the one to deliver the blow, and it completely drained of Mana. The little blade had never left her person for more than these checks since.
"Very good, you are free to pass." She re sheathed her knife, and accepted her staff back from the guard. She walked pasted and after another few hundred torch lit feet, she moved into the billowing snow. The visibility was limited due to the heavy snowfall, but she knew the well worn path well. The road cut through the entire length of the mid-sized valley, starting where she was with what would be several productive acres of farmland come the spring. It continued on into the bustling settlement of Mary's Rest. She still did not know the tale of why Hawke named it thus, just something about how it held out against the forces of evil to protect the last of the good in a poisoned world. But, they had already parted company with Varric, and bard's were scarce these days. Either way, it was a thriving community of people looking to stay clear of the horrors of the war that was engulfing the world.
(*)
The blizzard let up shortly before the night fell, and now the small flakes of snow seemed to dance as the fell slowly to earth. Merrill sat on a log by a large bonfire, knees up to her chest, one arm around them, and the other holding a steaming mug of cocoa as she stared at the white dropping from the inky heavens. She sipped her drink, and let her mind clear. She jumped slightly when a hand fell on her padded shoulder, and she saw the familiar callused mitts of her love. She letter he legs sink, and went to take another drink from her cocoa, but nothing came out. She had blanked for s long that the drink had cooled and frozen in her hand. She set it down and picked his hand off of her shoulder.
"Hello, Hawke," she paused and yawned, "I space just a little, what time is it?" he smiled softly as he lifted her to her feet.
"It is time for you to go to bed, Mistress Amell." She smiled as he hugged her close to his chest. In public, they were using his mother's maiden name because many factions were looking for Hawke's after the death of Meredith. It still thrilled her to have a close mate after the isolation she had faced the rest of her life. They walked hand in hand to the cottage that had founded the village all that time ago. Before she knew it, she was striped to her bra and panties, Laying in bed, pillowed on Hawke's broad chest, feeling his warmth leech into her bones as the fire burned softly across the room. Hawke stroked her hair gently as he settled, and asked her about her trip to Redcliff. She sighed.
"Nothing. Many remember, and the fade is still scarred from the things that happened during the blight, but there has been nothing new for years now, and I could see no breeches, and as far as I was able to find out, no one has heard anything since the battle at Vigil's Keep." She sighed, and nuzzled closer to his warmth as she felt sleep pulling her down.
"Ok, well, someone finally came through, and we now have a location on the hut where it all started, so we set out for Ostagar the morning." She nodded as sleep won out and she drifted pf to a dreamless sleep.
End, tear it a part if you like, revision might happen, because this is what I am doing until my laptop works again.