AN: Okay, in the spirit of turning 21 I decided today would be the best date to post this fic I've been working on. It has a far greater word count than the other two fics I posted today so it'll have more updates in the future, when I feel like updating, but yeah. Enjoy! this has been a real fun project.

Word count: 2,327

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Chapter One - Cinna's No Good Very Bad Day

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"Now, if you look to your left, this is… the outside. Shocking, I know. It takes some getting used to."

Cinna shut the car door behind her and shot an empty, tired look at her father. This again. "Stick to your other three jokes, that one is getting old."

"She's just cranky because vampires don't like the sun," her eldest sister grinned, smile only widening when Cinna turned her glare on her. "I'm sure it gets darker in the forest, you won't need any more sunblock."

"It's overcast."

She shoved her hands into her pockets as they walked onto their property, watching her step since the dirt path had turned to mud after so much rain. It was nearing wintertime, and the best season in Cinna's opinion because it meant she could bundle up without sweating. Scarves were good too, but they had packed away all their winter gear during the summer so they could sell the house. Now, on their spare lot, she had about three hundred million tons of junk to sort through just so she could look cute going to school next week. Her dad and her sister just didn't understand her struggle, but she had managed to get a ride from them after a week of whining.

Ella tossed her the keys and gestured for her to start making her way to the storage shed as she made her way towards her own. "I've got some shit to sort through, go on ahead. Make sure the dogs don't run off okay? Last time dad let them roll in something dead and if they do it again you're washing them."

"How is that fair?!" Cinna didn't catch the keys in time and winced as they hit her hand and fell into the mud. She cursed. "Nice freaking throw."

"Nice freaking catch."

Dad was off somewhere, probably fawning over the tractor he bought secondhand and never used. Feeling rather put-off and abandoned, Cinna made her way towards the storage shed and wiped the keys on her winter jacket. The sound of rustling to her side made her head turn, and she dropped the keys again when she saw both dogs bolting into the forest after a nearby deer.

"Shit—SHIT!" Scarf forgotten, she called to her relatives for help but couldn't stop to explain before the dogs did something really, really stupid. The two were stupid on their own, and stupider together, and stupidest when her sister was around, because stupid raises stupid, so it only made sense that they'd be doing something like this when all she wanted was to find her shit and go home.

Now, running through the forest, she had no idea where they were and how far they went off the trail. A distant crash to her left caught her attention, and there—

Whoosh-! Something flew past her face and into the brush behind her. Cinna jumped at the sound and turned- an arrow lodged itself into a tree behind her, and she stared at it.

"What. The... fuck?" She reached out to touch it, but it was covered in some… dark black substance? It looked like pitch, or oil or something, and it smelled like vomit. She instantly recoiled and looked back at where it came from.

Then, came the others.

Arrows whizzed past her with clear intent—she could barely see through the thick trees and broken branches, but there, in the distance, huddled beneath the bow of a tree, stood a short stout man with greyish green skin. He blended into the foliage almost, his face empty and eyes glittering.

As he pulled back his bowstring and let out a snarl, she screamed and fell backward.

"What th—what the fuck? what the hell—?!"

Who even did shit like that? Who does he think he is? Why was he trying to-

Finally, one of his arrows hit. It pierced her jacket and found its way into the fleshy part of her shoulder, throwing her to the ground with surprising strength.

She'd never been shot by an arrow before. Cinna tried to raise her arm but cried out at the pain, her other hand coming back soaked in blood as it gripped her shoulder. "Oh. My god? Oh my god, what—"

The man approached, and he was shorter than she first thought. The skin around his eyes and mouth seemed wrong, rotted, somehow peeling away, mottled purple and black like a spoiled plum.

Foliage snapped under the weight of his heels and she watched as he pulled out a crudely made knife. Her heart rate spiked, and she kicked back on the ground, trying to get back up and to put space between them. Nobody heard her calls for help, not her sister, her dad, or her dogs. It was like they had abandoned her; the only one to hear her screaming was her soon to be killer.

"S-stop!" She whimpered, putting her bloody hand up to stop him and shouted as he got closer, angry and confused and terrified all at once. "Get back!"

She closed her eyes, the same time there was a crack, a thunderous sound, and the smell of burning flesh. Cinna coughed on the fumes and looked back up to see him gone, and in his place sat a crispy dark mound, roughly the size of a corpse.

She reeled back. Her eyes went to the sky, terrified and confused, but mostly in pain, still, and Cinna wondered if the weather had called for freak lightning strikes. She'd take what she could get.

She couldn't remember the trail back to the car as she stumbled through the forest. The man-beast-whateverthefuck was dead, where she left him, and she didn't feel an ounce of sympathy for him. Whatever had happened was between him and Thor, or Zeus, or whatever, and she'd be seriously re-evaluating her opinion on higher powers after she got to a goddamn hospital.

"...If I get to a g-goddamn hospi...hospital," she panted, clutching her shoulder. She didn't know how much blood she lost, but the shock was doing weird things to her head.

She thought she saw more people off in the woods, but couldn't get a good look at them before she fell forwards, feet slipping in the much, driving the arrow further into her arm goddamnit.

"Aaaarrrughhhggghhh!"

She sobbed and rolled herself onto her back. The feathery end of the arrow had snapped clean off and came apart in her hand. Her fingers itched to pull out the rest, every part of her brain was SCREAMING at her to yank it out, to get rid of the foreign invader, but dammit, she also watched medical shows and knew that was a stupid fucking idea.

Getting back up was hard; looking for her sister or her dad while she was busy wiping away tears and snot was hard. She didn't give a shit about her dogs anymore, or about scarves, or why nobody came to help her, she just wanted to go home. Where was everyone? Had she gone the wrong way? Cinna turned and looked back at the path she had beaten through the brush and wondered if she took a wrong turn. The trees were old and thick—she didn't recognize them.

Then, something whistled past her face.

"No! damn it! Not again, fuck you!" She ducked her head as another arrow shot past her and picked up a fistful of dirt. She turned her head towards her attacker—attackers, now—and felt only frustrated outrage and fear, mingling as one. How fucking dare they?! Who did they think they are?!

The trees were a help this time, instead of a hindrance. The people shooting fucking arrows at her were ill-equipped for all the undergrowth, struggling to hop over stumps when she had literally been living in the forest her entire goddamn life. She went to school playing capture the flag in the forest—with an arrowhead in her shoulder and a fistful of fuck-you, she nailed the first guy in the face with a clump of dirt and put her whole body into a solid kick, right to the solar plexus.

Her heel slid off his solid metal armor (what the hell?) but he stumbled, falling into a spindly looking bush.

His friends were further back and scrambled to hop over the log their friend had, but she had already grabbed a stick with her good hand and swung it over her head. It fell down on one of their hands and the man cried out, cursing. "Andraste's tits—!"

"Get the hell away from me!" She growled, readying her stick again. The bastard in the bush was doing his best turtle-impression and the other guy was clutching his hand. The third guy had jumped back and readied his bow, and she wondered what she must've done to piss off the weirdest hunting party in the world.

"Freeze! Or I won't hesitate." He was super short, for a man, or anyone really, with dark brown skin, and a weird, foreign accent.

"Oh great, so you're murderous tourists, as well? Fuck, man." She let the stick fall to the ground as the men collected themselves. Getting shot a second time was not on her to-do list. She eyed their heavy armor but kept her attention on the short dude with a bow. "Who the hell are you people?"

"Who the hell are you?" Spat the guy she kicked, half his face caked in dirt. His eyes were watering and he rubbed them furiously, but at least he was regular sized. Sorta. "What are you doing here out in the woods?"

"I asked you first?" She panted, clutching her shoulder again. The forest was spinning around her and the adrenaline was starting to tire her out. "W-who fuckin… dresses… like that… you s-sick freak?"

"Excuse me?" Turtle boy took an affronted step backward, the same time she started stumbling. When she slumped over and just barely caught herself on the ground, his face changed and all attention zeroed in on her shoulder. "Oh, Maker is that…?"

"She's been shot." Someone said, probably the idiot who she hit with a stick, but it could have been any three of the idiots as far as she was concerned.

Someone hissed, "Darkspawn... do you think she has the taint?"

"Look at her! She's basically already a corpse."

"Hey, fuck you," she said weakly. End of the line. Cinna tried to catch her breath as the guys all started freaking out around her. Someone grabbed her arm and she hissed, rearing back at them. "D-don't touch me!"

"You're going to die here if we don't move you someplace else." Turtle boy dusted her with a fine covering of dirt as he bent down to try and help her. She slapped his hands away a second time, and he narrowed his eyes. "Why are you being difficult? You're only going to make things harder on yourself."

"Maybe, and consider this a shot in the dark," she grunted as he hauled her to her feet and she weakly tried to shove him away. "The three amigos wandering around in the forest with weapons attacking me sounds weird as hell and I don't trust you?"

"She's got you there, Alistair." Short dark arrow guy nodded, sliding his bow into his back as turtle guy struggled to keep her from falling over.

"This is really, really great." Cinna rolled her head over and took in the griffon plastered to turtle guy's armor (nicely dented, thanks to her sweet kick) and laughed. "Oh my god, I'm really dying aren't I? Jesus Christ."

"You're not going to die," said Alistair, though he didn't sound quite so convinced. He gestured to the other two standing around doing nothing. "Ser Jory, go get Davith. We're heading back to camp early. Make sure to tell him to bring bandages."

"Take me to a hospital?" She stumbled on a root, so he was more carrying her than actually helping her walk. "If I end up dying in the back of your truck or horse and carriage I'm going to lose my entire mind."

"The whole thing? Not just half?" Shortie with the bow kept up with them easily, despite the heavy chest plate and boots. And short legs. And shitty attitude. Couldn't he tell she was a victim?

"The half went sometime after I got shot. I don't…I do…" the words stopped coming after a while, and all she saw was green and brown. Her arm burned—it itched, all the way down to her fingers and into her chest. Alistair had her only good arm slung around his shoulder and the bad one dangled, sopping wet in her jacket.

"Hey… hey, are you still there?" He cursed something she didn't understand and started walking faster, but her feet were too heavy to move. "Uumm, Aeducan? Can you uh—can you tell if she's—oh Maker what a mess."

"Don't walk towards the light," said the dwarf, and she… Aeducan sounded so…. Alistair adjusted his hold on her arm and….

"You said I had the taint..?" She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all—at the bows and arrows, the full suits of armor, but instead she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "I'm...going to be sick."

"What?" Said Alistair, before she did just that, and he dropped her. "Shit!"

"Alistair did you really just drop her—?!"

"Fuciibggbg g g hhhgghhhhhh…." she retched again, clutching her arm, her stomach, her—whatever. It was a horrible experience in general and her blonde hair clung to her clammy skin as she hung her head, a million miles away from home, and none the wiser

She closed her eyes and prayed for the end. "This is… a nightmare…"

And thus, Cinna had her first bad experience in Thedas, among many, many more.

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