-1Author's Note: Last thing I need right now is to start another fanfic :P. Disenchanted HP fans will come beat me with a stick if I don't update soon. XD But I really couldn't resist this one. Hopefully you'll enjoy it and not find this first chapter to horribly long. I'll only continue if I get a few rave reviews, because I've got so many projects going already but I absolutely adore Dragon Age and I've been holding off on this idea for a while but finally couldn't take it anymore.
"Freedom is strangely ephemeral. It is something like breathing, one only becomes acutely aware of it's importance when one is choking." ~William Simon
Abelina is the name that I am called. It is a bastardization of the old dalish phrases, with a meaning which I have been told is 'sorrow blood'. Appropriate, perhaps, for my mother died giving birth to me. A wild-caught slave of the Tevinter Imperium, she was never intended to be a good little house slave. But she was beautiful and the magisters do so love beautiful things…so they did not want to waste her beauty when it could so readily be passed to her children.
I do not know my father, as I did not know my mother. Such is the life of the common elvhen slave. As was intended, I was cursed with what must have been a comely division of both parents looks and blessed with no sense of whatever freedom they believed in. Freedom is as unreachable as the sky and I hate to disappoint you, but slaves do not dream of it. Slaves who wish to live, that is.
The Creator smiled on me however briefly when I was purchased at the age of ten years, for I was not bought by a cruel mistress but a merciful one. A discreet mistress who does not own a grand mansion in the centre of the Imperium but a stable on the outskirts of Minrathous, where the magisters horses are stabled. I am naïve in the ways of the capital for I have not been within it's grasp since I was purchased, but from what I have heard the other girls tell of it…their words chill me. Many of the other elvhen girls I work beside were not purchased by my mistress until much later than I. They worked brothels, places that ruined them fast.
The magisters and Tevinter citizens value obedience and subservience, but they do not want their toys broken. Slaves with no spirit live short lives. Mistress Sarnai is a firm mistress, but she reasons that horses do not care whether or not their caretakers have spirit, so long as they are fed on time.
Sarnai took pity on me when I was young and I have only ever once asked her why. She flew into a rage and beat me with a riding crop. I would learn never to ask such a thing again, and discussed it once with the other slaves who would speak to me. It was then that I learned that though I was elvhen, I bore resemblance to my mistress's late daughter. I was bought on a whim, out of guilt. It made more sense to me then, why when the other slave girls were to cut their hair, I was instructed to leave mine long and worn in a style that covered my ears. Though a twisted and warped form of mercy and fate, I was grateful for it. I would rather keep my head down and muck stalls for the rest of my life than work in a brothel or as a house companion.
So my life continued in such a way, and I was careful to keep a low profile when the magisters came to ride their beasts. And I was even more careful to never, ever reveal my magic. The Imperium coveted mages and if anyone knew of my magic, if my mistress knew…I do not know if she would turn from me in disgust or recognize just how high a price I would fetch. I do not know what masters are like in the other nations of Thedas, but the Tevinter's are a shrewd people. Guilt over a long lost daughter would only last so long with Sarnai and so I tried my best to please her by doing my job thoroughly and by being as much her slave as the animals for which I cared for.
But one morning, it was not enough.
I was cleaning the last stall of the morning shift, late because one of the other girls had fallen ill. This particular slave girl had fallen ill multiple times and Sarnai was beginning to doubt her usefulness. I did not wish to see her sold, so I had taken up her chores as well as my own that day and was in a rush to get it done, lest my mistress should appear. I remember every blighted detail of my last day at the stable in Neromenian:
I stood ankle deep in muck, my nostrils burning with the familiar sent of soiled straw. It had been raining for weeks now with only intermittent breaks during which the suffocating air became hot and humid, thickened until it coated weary limbs with a film of heaviness. Beads of sweat trickled between my shoulder blades and dampened the pale champagne blonde of the hair at my nape, stinging my eyes and making it difficult to see in the dark stall. The only light emanated in latticed patches from the front of the half a wall of bars that allowed one to view the animal within without allowing the horses to stick their heads out into the main aisle and disturb routine. A shadow in the shape of a man fell across the already sparse light and I felt a strange buzz in my fingertips, the kind of buzz I'd only ever experienced once when handling lyrium-I looked up.
I would look back on the scene and shudder, wish that I had neglected to help Earani with her duties; wish that I had been anywhere else but where I was then. Wish that the powerful magister Danarius who was to become my master had not looked over at the precise moment the stalls occupant nickered. But there is no good in wishing, and no comfort in dwelling. I will describe to you what I saw upon the cursory glance upwards:
A male elf was standing at the stall door, watching me with his keen green eyes. He was harsh and forbidding, his gauntleted arms crossed over his armored chest and his stance that of a warrior. In the gloom, illuminated by the graying light outside the stall, his intricate white tattoos seemed to me to sparkle and glow. A strange surge of wanting, of lust rose within me just looking at this unfamiliar elf and his strangely appealing markings. I had never seen any of the elvhen with white hair who had not attained a great age, and this man looked only a few years older than I. He was beautiful and dangerous and I did not know whether to be flattered or horrified by his regard.
"Master," His voice was deep and pleasantly rough. "this is where the horse mistress indicated the animal you wished to purchase was being held."
Master. This elf was a slave as I was, but judging by his attire, he was a body guard. And to the man who wished to buy the sleek, chestnut stallion rubbing his head on my shoulder. It took me a long moment to find my voice and an inordinate amount of time to think of something to say with it:
"I…do you require-?" I hesitated, not knowing the proper manner in which to address this body guard…or even if I should. An older man, resplendent in the robes of a magister, strode into view and I immediately quailed under his regard.
This magister gave a frightening impression of colourlessness, with his grey eyes and grey hair and pale complexion. The three women with him were clearly not slaves, even the red-headed elvhen one walking three respectful steps behind the two humans. The lesser of the two was a young female mage, her sky blue robes indicative of her apprenticeship. The woman roughly the same age as the magister, her chocolate curls coiled with silver, slunk up beside him and turned up her pointed nose at the messy stall.
"Danarius, my love, why must we venture too such horrid places when we have occasion to leave Minrathous? The smell of this place and the broken slaves trudging around are positively repellent." She linked an arm with her husband who comforted her with an absent touch. But he was watching me, with a gaze so intent it could have been that of a lidless reptile.
"Girl." Danarius spoke clearly, his tone oily even though it commanded obedience. "Bring that animal out into the light where we can actually see it, would you."
I should have hidden, I should have smeared myself with manure or something of the like. But I did not. I calmly gripped the horses rope halter and lead him out into full view, the magister and his small entourage stepping back to give me room as the stallion pranced around, the hollow sound of hoof and steel striking stone reverberating around the enclosed space. I heard short intake of breath and was sure they must be admiring the proud animal beside me. One would have to be blind to not see that the stallion was beautiful, a glorious example of a wealthy man's mount. I kept my gaze focused on the cobbles beneath my boots, for I knew enough of magisters to know that they did not appreciate being looked in the eye by slaves.
"Well, what do you think?" Came a snappish female voice. Sarnai! I nearly forgot myself and glanced up, feeling guilty. She would know I was not supposed to be here. I peeked out of the corner of my eye and saw the elf again, leaning up against the edge of the stall. Relaxed but ready should his master be attacked…he saw me looking at him and I focused on the cobblestones once more. The magister ran his hands over the horse, down the animals legs to feel for heat and over the gleaming coat.
"Of the horse? Or of your girl slave?" A chill ran through me as I felt the magister's eyes on me, felt his presence but a hairs-breadth behind me. His hand caressed my backside and I jumped in shock, the horse beside me jerking in surprise and nearly hitting the magister's apprentice in the face with his muzzle.
This sudden, unintentionally defiant movement was a mistake. Danarius's hand went from my backside to the back of my neck and forced me to bend at the waist. He rammed his elbow into my back and I cried out in pain and fell to my knees. Danarius chuckled and made a tutting sound, the tips of his boots inches from my nose and his hand still fisted cruelly in my hair. "My my, and she's still got spirit. Wild caught?"
"Bred." Sarnai's voice was, for once, grim and quiet.
"But from wild caught stock, I assume? She does not have that inbred, docile appearance. All the bred slaves come all doe-eyed and half-broken these days. She looks wild. " Danarius slid two fingers under my chin and tipped my head up. In my panic, I almost resisted him.
"Look at me, Elf." Meeting his gaze, I couldn't help but swallow in horror. He was smiling appreciatively and his wife had a similar expression from where she regarded me from over his shoulder. She spoke, her nasally voice making me think of the buzz of a biting fly.
"How did a horse mistress afford such a pretty pet, I wonder. She must have broken the bank…and you let her keep her hair long. Let it down, slave, so we might see it." I reached up with one trembling hand only to have her snatch my wrist and twist it painfully, her smile transformed into a sneer of venom. " What do you say, slave?"
"I-Yes, Mistress!" She released my wrist and ripped my hair from it's bun, pulling hard at the bun and wrenching it from it's roots. I gritted my teeth, resisted the urge to defend myself against her assault. She ceased as soon as my hair spilled around my shoulders in a soft, light golden sheet. Covetously, she ran her fingers through it.
"She's rather rough, Horse Mistress. Do you not train your unbroken slaves?"
"Forgive me, magister Lacrea. She is a common barn slave and works more with horses than with her betters. She knows her place, but she is forgetful. But the horse-" Sarnai addressed Danarius wife, half-bowing before she tried to return attention to the horse. Lacrea ignored her, dragging me into a standing position with one hand in my hair.
"Fenris! Come stand beside this girl slave, I want to see the pair of you standing together." The white haired elf inclined his head and mumbled 'yes, mistress' and came to stand beside me, so close that we touched shoulder to shoulder. I recognized the buzzing then, the lust to be closer to him and the feeling of strength. Lyrium. His tattoos were lyrium! His price must be exorbitant, certainly mine and the horses combined worth twice over! I glanced at him before Lacrea jerked my chin to face her, stepping back to admire us. She beckoned to the young apprentice, clearly her female confidant. "What do you think, Hadriana? Would she not be the talk of Minrathous? My husband with his body guard and I, with my obedient but wild caught handmaiden? They both have that wildness about them"
Hadriana approached, reaching out and running her fingers over my face, turning my face this way and that. She reach down to lightly cup one of my breasts and squeeze, her mouth twisting sideways as though I did not quite meet her expectations. My hand fluttered with the urge to push her away, but I felt metal clad fingers clamp onto my wrist and force me to be still as Hadriana's perusal continued down my legs. Imperceptibly, Fenris squeezed and released my wrist and I let out a breath as Hadriana stepped back.
"Mayhap, if you can scrub off all the filth and get rid of the smell." The two women laughed uproariously at this before sobering. Lacrea turned to her husband, pouting her lips like a child.
"I desire her, my heart." Danarius smiled at his wife and turned to Sarnai, who was looking increasingly upset. She could not deny magisters.
"I would never pay three hundred sovereigns for one animal. If you throw in the girl slave-" Danarius looked at me and frowned. "What are you called?"
"Abelina, Master."
"Ah, with an almost dalish name, too. If you throw in Abelina, I will match your price." Sarnai looked from one magister to another, helpless before their lupine smiles. But she was a horse mistress, and had not gotten where she was today by meekly backing down. Taking a deep breath, my mistress squared her shoulders and I felt a surge of hope. As interesting and frightening an encounter as this had been, I had no desire to be a magisters handmaiden.
"Abelina alone is worth three hundred sovereigns. She's spirited and unspoiled." There were gasps of delight from Lacrea and Hadriana and the elf beside me-Fenris-shifted uncomfortably. Even in the humid air, I could feel the blood rush to the tips of my ears and my cheeks. It was the first time I can ever remember being embarrassed by my mistress so proudly proclaiming my assets.
"Well," Danarius drawled, his smile widening. "Unspoiled? I'm tempted to call you a liar, horse mistress. But that would explain why she was so…shy about being touched. She blushes prettily, does she not Fenris?"
I would have balked at being asked to submit my opinion, had our positions been reversed. But Fenris merely dipped his head in agreement and spoke the customary 'yes, Master'. I realized then that Danarius did not care to hear his slave's actual opinion, he just wished to assert his dominance.
"Well, my little wolf, you've proven that that sort of thing can be trained away." Danarius smirked and turned to Sarnai, pulling a pouch of gold from his hip. "How does four hundred sovereigns sound?"
"Five hundred."
"Four hundred and fifty and not a copper more for both horse and girl." Sarnai looked at me, her scowl pained. The silence stretched for a moment before my former mistress sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat:
"Sold."