And onto the last one! :)
Wild Dalish Rose
Shesi Mahariel slowly became aware that all of her blood had drained to her head, her limbs were swinging about like a rag doll's, and something pressed against her ribs. Her shoulder-length dark brown hair hung around her face, obscuring her vision, swishing with the motion; she squinted and coughed. Something was moving, carrying her, metal arms tight around her middle and holding her in place; she didn't have to open her eyes to decipher that.
But she did, regardless, fluttering her eyes open and struggling to keep them that way.
Her vision swam. How had she gotten here? She remembered cold cavern air, Tamlen kissing her, the rippling crystalline surface of a tall mirror in front of them. But in what order? Had all of them happened? Had any of them?
Tamlen was missing. She knew that with every fiber of her being.
And the man carrying her was too tall to be an elf, too muscular.
"Shemlen," she hissed, coughing, swinging aimlessly with her arms. "Put me down...I'll..."
"Quiet, child," the man said, stopping. "You are badly wounded and extremely ill."
Why? How?
"No…I'm not…" she tried to argue. Her muscles didn't want to move, and that scared her. "Where's…" Tamlen.
"Duncan, set her down," a woman said. "Let me talk to her."
The man grunted, lifting her off his shoulder with both hands and setting her on her feet. He acted like she weighed no more than a small scroll, if that. Shesi reached for her knife, stumbled, and fell right on her arse.
"Easy," the woman said, kneeling in front of Shesi. She had soft, fair features, pleasing enough for a shem: ivory skin, long red hair the color of a ripe persimmon. Her eyes, deep bluish green, held Shesi's own. "We're taking you back to your clan. We won't hurt you."
"Who…who are you?"
"I'm Palla," the woman said. "It's a pleasure to meet you… I wish it were under better circumstances. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens."
The man she spoke of, Duncan, had dark skin, black hair tied back, an equally black beard, and kind, deep-set eyes. Shesi was fascinated by his beard; elves didn't grow them. She wondered idly if it was soft or scratchy before another cough wracked her small frame. She didn't sense any evil in the shemlen, but that made no sense.
"We found you lying in a ruin not far from here," Duncan said. "You are very ill, child. It is a wonder you've woken up."
"She's barely awake at that," Palla said, leaning closer. "Look at her eyes."
"Where's…Tamlen…" Shesi asked. "Find him…"
She slumped over.
When she woke this time, she saw her clan-mate Fenarel kneeling next to her, a hand on her forehead. His blond hair threatened to fall over his eyes, and he blew upwards to feather it away. "You feel warm," he said, looking concerned. "Too warm."
Shesi gasped, gritted her teeth, and tried to sit.
"Easy, lethallan!" he said. "You're back at camp. Everyone's worried sick about you. How do you feel?"
"I…" She started to lie, to pretend nothing happened to her as she always did, but she couldn't bring herself to this time. Pain raced through her blood like poison, blurring her vision and making her tongue feel like a useless piece of meat in her suddenly dry mouth. "I feel horrible," she admitted.
More pieces of her lost mind came back to her. She remembered urging Tamlen not to do something, and him doing precisely that; he'd always been like that. Stubborn, stubborn man. What had he been touching? A mirror? That was it, the mirror; something black and twisted had been on the other side of it.
"Come here," Fenarel said, holding his arm open; she sank into it, wanting comfort. "Where's Tamlen? What happened?"
"He's… I don't know… A mirror… Tamlen…" She struggled to form words, leaning her cheek against his bicep. "Gone…"
"He can't be," Fenarel said. "But…the shemlen who brought you here said they saw no sign of him."
"Humans?" she asked, suspicious.
"Yeah, Shess… They carried you back here two days ago. You don't remember?"
Shesi looked around her; she was on a pile of blankets in the grass under the shade of an aravel. She struggled to find her memories. A strong, dark-skinned man, a woman with hair like the sun's fire itself…but that was all.
"How could it be two days?" she wondered aloud.
"The man said they found you unconscious and alone," Fenarel explained. He squeezed her gently. "You're shaking. The keeper's been using the old magic to heal you, but honestly, you barely look any less sick…" He stood. "She wanted to talk to you as soon as you awoke, but I don't think you should be moving. Stay here. I'll get her."
He jogged off, and Shesi watched him go for a moment, blinking and trying to gain her bearings.
Shesi's muscles felt shaky, weak, overused; she knew better than to try to stand. Fainting now could result in a bad head injury, at the least. She rubbed her eyes angrily. Right now she should be sprinting back into the forest, searching for Tamlen, studying every track and scent and aura in the forest. It gave her no small amount of frustration and worry that she could barely even get up to look for him.
I should have pulled harder, she thought, suddenly remembering the mirror and Tamlen's scream. The angry thought had popped into her head before she even knew what had prompted it, but there it was. I was there. I could have saved him.
Could she have?
The clan's Keeper, Marethari, approached a few moments later, concern etched all over the woman's aging face. "I see you are awake, da'len," she said, fondness softening her eyes. "It is fortunate Duncan found you when he did…"
Duncan. The Grey Warden, the man with the fascinating facial hair. Shesi never forgot details like that.
"I know not what dark power held you," Marethari continued, feeling Shesi's forehead, "but it nearly bled the life from you. It was difficult even for my magic to keep you alive."
"What about Tamlen?" Shesi asked urgently. "We need to look for him."
"Many of our hunters are already out looking for him," she said gently. "If he encountered the same thing you did, he could be gravely ill. The Grey Warden said he found you alone, already stricken with illness. Duncan thought there may have been darkspawn creatures within the cave. Is that true?"
"There was…a bear that looked dead but was alive," Shesi said. There. Another memory. She remembered the rotting flesh, the putrid smell, the bone spikes jutting from its massive, peeling body. "If that…makes many sense."
"Bereskarn," Marethari answered. She frowned. "A twisted creature, yes, but not darkspawn. What else did you find? What is the last thing you remember?"
"A…mirror," Shesi said. "Tamlen touched it."
"A mirror?" she repeated. "And it caused all this? Duncan did indeed mention a mirror…he said he and his recruit shattered it. I suppose his actions were necessary. I've never heard of anything like these mirrors in all the lore we've collected." She sighed heavily. "I was hoping for answers when you woke, but there are only more questions."
Shesi impatiently stubbed her toe against the dirt. She had as many questions as the Keeper, right now. "I have to find Tamlen, keeper. Please…let me go back there."
Marethari patiently crossed her arms over her chest, but Shesi could see the twinge of uncertainty in her eyes. "He is more important than any lore in those ruins. If he is as sick as you were, his condition is grave. But I must send others to find him, da'len. Merrill and Fenarel will look. I cannot risk your health."
"I have to go," Shesi argued. "I will."
"I was afraid you'd say that. I – " The keeper looked up as a woman approached. "Ah, I'll give you a moment."
"By the Creators, it is good to see you whole and well!" Ashalle exclaimed, pulling Shesi into a warm hug; Shesi buried her face in the woman's shoulder and bit her tongue to stop the tears from welling up. "I was so worried!"
"Please, don't worry about me," Shesi begged. "I'm not the one in danger right now."
"I can't help worrying for you, dear. I've raised you since your poor mother died." Ashalle gave her one last tight squeeze and stepped back. "Everyone fears Tamlen is dead… is it true?"
"No," Shesi said. "Of course not. He's not gone. I'll find him, I swear – "
"That's quite enough, da'len," the keeper interrupted. "Other hunters have been looking for Tamlen. You will not be going back into the forest."
"I…" Ashalle frowned sympathetically, her brows knitting together. "I'm so sorry, dear. I know you and the lad are close. It was always my wish that you two would – no, let's not dwell on it." She smiled softly, kissing Shesi on the forehead. "I wish you a speedy recovery, da'len." With that she walked away, leaving Shesi alone with the keeper once more.
Shesi curled her arms around herself, staring at the ground. She idly scuffed her foot around, wondering why the keeper wouldn't allow her to go find Tamlen. After all, she'd recovered well enough, hadn't she? Shouldn't her clan have stopped worrying for her?
"I spoke to the Grey Warden while you were unconscious," Keeper Marethari explained to Shesi. "He has more grave news for you, I'm afraid."
"I will tell her myself, if you don't mind," Duncan said, appearing near them. Shesi looked past him and saw Palla, the redheaded warmaiden, letting one of the halla sniff her hand. The human woman looked troubled, much like Shesi did, and that was almost a relief. The halla briefly nuzzled Palla's fingers and returned to grazing, but Shesi didn't miss the soft smile that touched Palla's face.
"I do not," the keeper said. Shesi's attention returned to them.
"Your keeper tells me your name is Mahariel," Duncan said, nodding to Shesi. "It is a pleasure to meet you now that you're conscious. Your cure is only temporary, I'm afraid. The mirror you and your clan mate encountered was tainted, and now that darkspawn taint courses through your veins. That you've recovered at all is…remarkable. But eventually, the taint will sicken and kill you, or worse. The Grey Wardens can prevent that, but it means joining us. My order is in need of help. You are in need of a cure. When Lady Cousland and I leave, I hope you will join us. You would make an excellent Grey Warden."
Shit. No. She couldn't have been tainted. If she willed it away hard enough...would it just go away?
"Thank you for your kindness," Shesi said, "but I can't accept. I feel better," a lie, "and I need to find Tamlen."
Duncan frowned. Once again Shesi was too curious about his thick beard to pay much attention to his expression. "Let me make this clearer for you: your cure is temporary. You will die."
"Then I accept my death. My duty is to my clan. To Tamlen." To the man she'd loved just about her whole life, to the man she'd apparently left to die in the ruins. The urge to find him was like a rash, spreading through her body with a ferocious itch to run into the woods and never return until she could do so with him at her side.
"Do not be so quick to forfeit your own life, da'len," Marethari admonished. There was kindness in her voice, and great worry. "Long ago, the Dalish agreed to aid the Grey Wardens against a Blight. We must honor that agreement. That is why you will be leaving with Duncan."
"I what?!"
"This is not simply charity," Duncan said. "Did you think my order was only comprised of warriors? Your keeper tells me you are the quickest dual-wielder in the clan, and we are always in need of those who have a keen eye and light foot."
"Again, I appreciate your comments, but I…" Shesi shook her head stubbornly. "I won't go."
Duncan's face was a stony mask. "Then I have no choice. I hereby invoke the Grey Wardens' Right of Conscription."
That sounded awfully formal. And…binding.
Marethari turned to look up at the tall, dark man. "And I witness and acknowledge your invocation, Duncan of the Grey Wardens. I cannot express my sadness at sending one of our daughters off into such danger, away from the clan who loves her, but neither can I watch her suffer a slow, agonizing death."
By the Creators. Shesi never threw tantrums, especially not since she'd endured the ritual to ink vallaslin into her face and become officially a grown woman, but she could feel a righteous storm of a tantrum brewing inside her. "You can't send me away!" she hissed. "What about Tamlen? I'm going with Merrill and Fenarel to look for him. Wherever he's been lost to, I could sense him."
"Hush, child," Marethari said; she had one of those gentle looks that Shesi knew – from experience – hid bottomless depths of finality and resolve. When the keeper looked like that, she would never bend. Her will was like a stone carving – utterly immovable. "This is a storm even we cannot outrun. The Wardens need you. You need them. I will not watch your stubbornness take your life. You will be joining the Wardens, and do not come back."
Shesi's legs threatened to give out beneath her, and she felt a hot wave of fever pass through her body.
If it had been merely the shemlen forcing the issue, Shesi might have done one of two things: either whipped her daggers out and started spinning and stabbing until she stood in a cesspool of grass and blood, or ran as swiftly as her legs would carry her until her lungs gave out. Perhaps both. But to be sent away by the Keeper herself… Shesi was at such a loss for words that she could do nothing but stare at the people in front of her, trying to swallow.
"I will allow you to say your proper goodbyes," Duncan said, his voice gentle. "Then we make for Ostagar in the south. Pack as much as you can carry on your back; it will take us a few days to get there."
Numb, Shesi turned and began wobbling away on her unsteady legs. Pack…she had to pack… had to leave… On her disjointed way to who-knows-where she nearly ran into Palla, Duncan's other recruit. The redhead's eyes met Shesi's, and the woman gave Shesi a knowing look when the latter stared at her and said absolutely nothing.
"Duncan is a kind man, you will find," the woman said. Her eyes were soft. "And we are very much needed by the Wardens." Her voice dropped to a low, sad pitch. "But this life was not my choice either, friend."
Someone who understood. Shesi would cling to that when the Grey Wardens yanked her away from her family, quite possibly for the rest of her life.
