Ever wonder why the bedrolls are in front of their tents? Perhaps this is why….
Story Telling
The party had started to take notice of the bags and dark circles forming under her eyes. They noticed her short temper and loss of stamina. Alistair and Leliana tried to ask her what was going on but only received curt, one-word answers.
The dreams were getting worse and worse as they progressed; but she wouldn't tell any of them. Every night she laid down, the anticipation of the horrors kept her awake; but she wouldn't tell any of them. The nights that she found sleep were sparse and when she awoke a physical pain like nothing else would grip her entire body and mind. Alistair didn't understand, his dreams were nothing compared to her night terrors.
The party members made their way to the tents one by one, leaving only Sten to watch the fire. As she laid her head down she couldn't help but feel a tightness enclose around her throat. The tears came to her eyes again, as they had every night for the past week. Exhaustion encompassed her as the hours drew on, soon heavy lids fell and it began.
Flesh, blood, and body innards lay across the battlefield alongside the bodies of the dead or dying. The horde and their leader grew stronger and fiercer as the cries of men, elves and dwarves caressed the air. A heavy stench of sorrow and death weighed in the smoke. And yet she could do nothing. She could not move, she could not fight, she could not join them in their valiant battle. She could only watch. She could only stand by while her friends-her family- were slain. The shadow of the beast was seen before the fire, before the teeth were felt. All she could do was scream.
The upright bolt came first, breathing second. Short shallow breaths and silent sobs wracked the small chest. If she had not been so accustomed to pain, the crushing sensation of spine and skull would have ensued a sheer cry of agony. Knees pulled to chest, she rocked and reminded herself it was a dream. Hot tears fell to her legs but she did not stop them, they were a reminder that she was awake; but she'd had this dream before. Safety and love, only to have the blanket ripped away from her. Bowen, the one who had been through it all with her, nestled his head against her shaking arm. He whimpered as she tentatively scratched his chin.
As her tears slowly ended and shaking subsided, she left the tent. She wrapped her arms around her small frame at the impact of the bitter night. The dying fire captured her attention unaware of the other watching it as well. Startled, her eyes widened and her breath caught but a reassuring nod from him soothed her nerves.
"Sten…how long do you usually stay out here?"
The man looked up at the sky, calculating the time.
"I am a warrior of the Qunari, my body only requires four to five hours of rest." He returned his gaze to the sky. She looked up and was awestruck by the beauty.
"In all the time I have lived in Ferelden, I never stopped to look at the stars." She looked at him and felt trapped by his gaze. Breaking the eye contact she looked back up and pointed to a constellation. "But…I'm pretty sure those three there are called Orion's belt. If you look around them you can make out the shape of a man holding a sword and shield. I think the story goes that he was a great huntsman. He was blinded then healed and was permitted to hunt with a goddess or two. But he became boastful and mother earth sent a great scorpion to kill him. He was honored by being laid to rest among the stars but to remind him of his place the scorpion was also placed in the sky….It's quite a beautiful story, even if rather outrageous." She looked over to the man. He was gazing up at the stars with a small smile on his face; something she had never seen before.
Out of the quiet peace he said, "My people have stories like that. More like what you call legends."
Curiosity got the best of her and before she could stop herself, "Would you…mind telling me one?"
"Of course, kadaan."
A shuffling from behind her was a reminder of the lonely beast waiting in her tent. "Wait just one minute!" She jumped into the tent, grabbed her bedroll and ushered the mabari out into the cool air. As she adjusted the mat to a comfortable position, Sten and the dog watched her with fascination. One last adjustment and, "Ok. Go." She was sitting with her knees pulled into her chest, back resting against a convenient boulder, and a warm blanket wrapped around. Bowen curled up next to her and Sten took a seat on the closest log.
"A hundred years ago the Qunari were prosperous. The Arishok and his people were content; unbeatable and unified. As the years drew on the Arishok grew old and yet we still flourished. Then, as your history texts would describe it, chaos ensued. The Arishok died in his sleep, though the actual cause of death was highly suspicious. Another was placed on your equivalent of a throne. On the exterior we appeared strong and composed, but corruption and tyranny run rampant through the veins of our new leader. He led the men into battles that all knew were unbeatable. He and a specially selected group of attendants sporadically raped and pillaged the cities-"
"Why didn't anyone stop him?" She asked.
"By law of the Qun, the Arishok is right. No questions. No doubts. Any who oppose him must challenge him in a battle. Yet none were willing to carry such a burden. As the ruin continued more suffered, and soon very little was left of the great nation."
Behind her she could hear blankets twisting and a body turning over and over-something she was very familiar with. The thud of a body violently jerking around and abruptly sitting up caught her attention; Alistair was now awake. She looked to Sten to see if he had noticed, he hadn't and had moved forward with his story.
"And as the sword came down-"
"Wait! I missed a huge part! Please go back…just a little."
"….of course….On the exterior we appeared strong and composed, but corruption-"
"No you already said that. Soon very little was left of the great nation…"
"Soon very little was left of the great nation." She nodded her head in approval and moved to a diagonal position, halfway between sitting up and lying down; resting her head on the boulder and using her arm as a pillow.
"The country was now weak and vulnerable. A great war tactician, refusing to take any more abuse confronted the Arishok. The challenge was highly public and could not be denied. The air was silent and the audience tense. The Arishok stood and faced the competitor. They shared a look most would describe as epic. The battle was the following day."
Heavy eyes began to close, her head nodding back and forth as she struggled to listen, Bowen's movement next to her jarred her back to consciousness.
"It was truly glorious." He was now looking up. She followed his gaze and what she saw was astounding. The stars moved together to form two figures both with powerful weapons.
"The sound of metal clashing against metal," The stars began fighting, the movements sharp and fierce.
"The crowd cheering as the first blood was drawn by the young general." The larger figure then stumbled back as the smaller made a nearly critical hit.
"Both losing stamina and strength as they continued, pleading to each other with silent looks of desperation." She was now lying on her back, eyes devouring the sky.
"As the general charged, the Arishok blocked but astonished the crowd as he brought down his sword at the last second and took the blow with a bowed head. As he fell he spoke only this, 'I have wronged this nation, I realize this now. Thank you for showing me, I know you will lead them better than I ever did." As the stars showed the younger sprinting to the side of the fallen her eyes slowly closed. "Thank you, my son."
"The general was his son?" Her voice was quite and tired.
"Yes. But because he saw what power could do, he became one of the greatest Arishoks to date. He nurtured the Qunari back to their former glory and the land and people recovered." She felt peace for the first time in months, even if temporarily.
"Thank you Sten. There's a message isn't there?"
"Of course, Kadaan. Sometimes we are forced to commit difficult decisions but the end result is almost always worth the hardship."
A smile graced her lips and as she drifted off to sleep, a wave of safety and tranquility washed over her. She was not plagued with nightmares that night, but only with happiness and peace. Sten stood and smiled at the sight of the resting woman. As he passed Alistair's tent, he spoke, "She is asleep now. And everything spoken….may you use it well." He heard the gasp and continued to his tent. That night he dreamt of the battle with his father, and an unusual feeling of, what humans would describe as joy, cleansed his soul; he had finally found peace.