A/N: Alright, alright, alright now!
Really sick while writing this, so I'm sorry if its short. I'm sure I'll feel better soon.
Everyone's been asking about Brangaine, considering her sudden surge in popularity in the Not Going Home series. I've said several times now that she's the Archdemon Urthemiel reincarnated but apparently that wasn't enough and everyone wanted her origin story.
HERE!
So now, I proudly present, a story that spans all the games and more than three quarters of Thedas. Unlike the Witch and the Warden, this story is absolutely bonkers and not mention to be taken half as seriously at all. Its more in line with Bioware's fantastic banter and humor.
So for clarification, this chapter takes place about...hmm...lets say a week before everyone's origin stories.
The title you ask? Not My Blight, of course!
References for the win~!
FOR THE WIN!
YOYOI!
"Maker!"
"Eh, close enough."
~?
Maker
So here we are at last!
This is an old story, one left untold and nearly forgotten.
It is not a happy tale, nor an entirely serious one, but neither could it be called devoid of humor.
'Tis a tale of growing up, I suppose her mother would say. Shame the two of us nearly really got along. Really. At all. Not in the least.
But you didn't come here for that; you came to find out how I adopted the sodding Archdemon. Well. A reincarnated one, but still! Being an Old God isn't something you can just wash off; reborn or not, it sticks to you like ugly on an ape; you can no sooner rid yourself of it than you can your remove your own face. Really, let's see YOU try to be the father to a bloody deity and see how well it works out for-owowowowowow!
ALRIGHT!
I'm writing, I'm writing! Yeowch!
For crying out loud, Brangaine won't stop pinching my cheeks so I'll just get on with it~!
Right-so it all started...hmm...lets say about a week before the battle at Ostagar. Really, we all know the Warden can have any number of origins, don't we? My meddling may have...complicated things. Hey! Don't look at me like that! Really, it was one of my very first adventures after becoming a god. In my...lack of wisdom, I thought it would be a glorious idea to dive headfirst into the world after playing the games, if only to see what kind of chaos I could stir up.
Glorious.
Gods, I sounded like Cailian.
I want to go back and KICK myself.
Perhaps if I had an ounce of common sense back then I might've realized why this was a spectacularly bad idea. Messing about with tainted gods is one thing, but I didn't even know where the Archdemon was, much less what I wanted to do with it. Fight it, maybe? The whole adopting bit came much later...was that before we razed Kirkwall to the ground? Of after the sky split?
Ah, but I digress!
To be fair, I wasn't quiiiiiiiiite the almighty powerhouse I am now; back then, I was fixated on killing the incessant boredom that plagued me-perhaps myself, barring that-or die trying. Still, I couldn't go breaking my way into universes without being beckoned by another. Its a silly thing, really. If someone asked for a god? If they prayed to a higher power in the belief that doing so would make everything alright? WHAM! I could drop right in, all fire and fury.
In fact, I'm quite certain I did just that but the details are rather fuzzy.
If could just remember what pulled me there in the first place-
Hmm..hmm...aha! There it is! Now I remember.
It all started with a prayer.
With a wish, really.
And a name.
Leliana.
(...0o0o0...)
She needed a sign.
Something to tell her that these dark dreams of late were not just that; dreams, mere flights of fancy brought about by an addled mind. If they were, would she able to tell? She wanted to believe thus, but was not beauty in the eye of the beholder? Could not the same be said for belief itself?
Oh how her fellow sisters in the Lothering chantry mocked her-how they reviled her! Many denigrated her to no end, and those that didn't regarded her with solemn pity. Some claimed she was trying to imitated Andraste herself but no, that was not true, could never be true for she held no such ambitions.
Of course, the others did not believe her.
They all thought that her talk of the Blight was just that. Talk. King Cailian and the army had the darkspawn well contained in Ostagar; only the occasional straggler slipped through the south. This was no Blight they said; just a small incursion, one that would soon be put down with all dispatch and they would all go back to their mundane lives.
And yet Leliana dreamed.
Terrible, horrible dreams, visions of the world engulfed in darkness.
On and on they came, worsening with each passing day. Nightmares worse than those she had experienced since casting her bardic calling behind. By now she could scarcely sleep, such were the horrors. Surely the Maker must be trying to tell her something. Surely he would not want the world to be brought to ruin by the likes of darkness and despair, no? Surely this was not his will. Why else send her these dreams-allow them even-if not for some higher purpose?
It was said that he had turned his gaze from them, but surely, surely, SURELY he would not begrudge her this.
...would he?
Alas, the chapel held no answers for Leliana, only the sullen silence that came with morning prayer. Ser Bryant would be without no doubt, perhaps she should share some of her concerns with him. He was one of the choice few who did not mock her, after all. Would he even believe her, if confided in? Or would he turn away when presented with what appeared to be the ravings of a madwoman? Could they not see how she longed to do something about the Blight, to prevent the horrors that were to come? No? Of course they didn't. She
Unbidden, the redhead's palm clenched against one another, nails biting into white knuckles.
'Please, Maker, if you are there...I know it is much to ask, but please...help me.'
In her mind's eye, she glimpsed a smile in the dark.
"Well! Since you asked so nicely...!"
He struck like a thunderbolt.
One moment Leliana had been peacefully at prayer in the Lothering chantry; her head bowed, hands clasped before her serene visage. Heart disquiet perhaps, but otherwise content. For all her prayers, a small part of her honestly did not expect something-someone-to answer her. It was more a way to soothe her soul than anything else, a balm for her spirit-
The next, heaven itself opened.
Without pause or preamble, indeed, without the slightest semblance of stealth, the roof ruptured.
Shattered shards of flimsy wood flew in every direction; some ricocheting raucously off the walls, others shattering against upturned stone. A stray splinter slashed across her cheek, as though in silent rebuke. Had she not been the sole occupant of the chapel at the time, Sister Leliana might well have feared for the safety of others. As it stood, Sister Leliana was very much alone when the earth shook and the sky broke loose from its cradle. The scene that followed would be carved into her mind for years to come.
Something struck the ground with a dull thud, spraying smoke and ash in every direction.
"What in the world?!"
A harsh, hacking cough greeted her.
"Why did I think an orbital drop was a good idea?! Chief and his damn ideas...
With a start the lay sister jerked backwards, fumbling for a dagger that was no longer there. Her hand found only empty robes. Blast it. Even after all these years she still fell back on old habits sometimes. As things stood, she found herself quite unarmed-and unarmored-when the dust cleared.
He looked...like a man.
One with bright blue eyes and blond hair-who could ignore those pinchable whiskered cheeks?-he stood clad in a strange red robe furnished with orange and gold. Where those horns on his head? No? The ex-bard rubbed at her eyes with the back of a hand, only to find them gone between blinks. There was something...odd about this one. He almost seemed to glow, a faint radiance dancing in her peripherals when she dared to look away, burning like holy fire. Whomever he was, he seemed quite pleased with himself...almost fiendishly so.
...and then he struck the most absurd pose.
"You called and I have answered!" Rolling his shoulders, he trust a hand forward, palm outward. "Rejoice, dear girl!"
...I beg your pardon?"
Silence reigned supreme between the two of them. Leliana blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering open and shut like as rapidly as a butterfly's wing. She didn't know what to make of this. After all, it wasn't everyday that a man simply fell through the roof, much less started prancing about like a court jester. At a glance he almost looked like one, yet those radiant raiments suggested otherwise.
Remarkably, he took her shock in stride.
"Tch. Get's that what I get for posing like the old sage...
Leliana continued to gape at him, heedless of his soft mutterings.
"Sorry about the roof, there." the newcomer hummed. "Let me fix that."
With a snap of his fingers, the world unwound and the ruptured roof restored itself.
Time flowed in reverse a river running uphill, bits of broken boards and mangled masonry returned to their proper place. It was precisely the sort of thing magic could not manage-certainly not any spell that she'd seen in her bardic days!-and the sight of it shook something loose in her. Aghast, Leliana uttered the first word that came to her mind.
"Maker!"
The stranger laughed at her.
"Well...close enough, I suppose. You rang?"
A/N: Well!
We've gotten this story off the ground, and now I'm off to make ends meet. There just isn't enough money to go around these days it seems, and the bills keep coming in...
This'll focus more on the humor aspects of Dragon Age-with occasional bits of darkness-and the like.
If you want a serious iteration of this, something that genuinely humanizes characters, then check out The Witch and the Warden. That has its own path and plot to follow, while this one...well. Lets just say everyone has a chance to sign, and I almost pity
Now then, I'd love to hear what you all think!
So In the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review, Would You Kindly?
And enjoy the previews!
Potential ones at that!
(Previews)
"How do I know you are who you claim to be?" Leliana stammered, staring aghast at this stranger. "That you are not an impostor?"
A blond brow rose.
"Marjolaine."
Flemeth purred. "My, my, and what do we have here?"
"Enough. Drop the act. You're no old woman, I can tell that much."
"Such a clever boy. Yet still so "new" to the ways of the world. Fascinating...!"
"Why so serious, Loghain?"
He was going to gut him. Absolutely.
"And why should I listen to a filthy fool like you?"
"Because this "fool" can grant your heart's desire. At no charge. Wouldn't you like to see her again?" Then the little bastard tilted his head and said her name. A name he'd not heard in age, a different life, a different time. It utterly unmanned him. In that instant, Loghain Mac Tir was well and truly lost.
"You will not! These mages are criminals!
"And what do you know of power, old chum? Did you earn it? She did. She'd sooner die than surrender it. She comes with me. Hmm. Him too. Get over here, Jowan. They come with me. If you have a problem with that then I will BURN you. THEY ARE MINE."
"Hmm? Got nothing against the Dalish. But I'm not in the business of doing things for free. I'm even less inclined to help you after that hunter's hissy fit. Now. Choose."
"You would let him die-
"CHOOSE."
"As they say, all origins are real. I'm just doing my part."
"You wouldn't dare!" Vaughan absolutely sputtered. "Don't you know who I am?!"
"Yes, and I don't much care." Naruto offered a murderous grin in recompense. "Tabris? All yours."
R&R~! =D