Qunari Do Not Change

Magic; in all stories it is seen as a burden. A curse even.

It is in our lands that we are only just learning to accept it. Learning that one who wields it is no less a person. That it is their actions that define who they are, not what they were born into. Still, there will always be fear.

But, what many forget is that in some places Magic is seen as the greatest evil. That it cannot even be used as a tool, not without its costs. That it is better off destroyed. Magic is an imperfection. It must be erased.

In the Qun, magic is the ultimate test of their faith. A tool must always be used, and never wasted. And so, they are forced to do the unspeakable. A mage is bound, chained like an animal.

Why? Because they are dangerous. A weapon, a monster. Designed for one purpose, to destroy. As barbaric as you and I may see the way Qunari treat their own, we must also understand that it is sometimes beyond help. A weapon must be used for its purpose, that cannot be changed.

Well… I knew one who defied this. One, who changed her purpose…

It was just another typical summer's day, as typical as was expected. The sun shone brightly and the wind had a slight gentle breeze too it; the perfect weather that any child would gladly flock to. It was perfect for outdoors playing, for rough and tumble.

And so, Tal chose to take his children outside. Away from his son's studies, much to his mother's disapproval. The warrior disguised play lazily as training, but Saarebas wasn't fooled by her Kadan's 'clever' methods. Still, she didn't mind all too much. He was right, such a day should not have been wasted. He carried their youngest around almost carefree; not fearing the fragile nature of such a young babe. Little Ash had only just begun to hold her head up alone, and the way her father flung her about was setting Saarebas on edge. Tal was always more at ease with the children, so she tended to leave him to his ways. She envied how he was with them.

Saarebas sat to attention outside the rundown cottage her Kadan had come to own. It was the fourth house the Qunari family had occupied in the past year; Saarebas couldn't help but wonder how many more they would come to stay in. With a heavy sigh, she rested her aching head against a banister; she watched intently as Adaar attempted to head-butt his father, while little Ash watched with amazement. The scene was blissful, and she felt calm being allowed the opportunity to watch. Let alone be apparently part of the whole thing. Family, she had never had such a thing. Even before becoming Saarebas, she was raised like all other children in the Qun. It was how she knew Tal before his training, how the two were once friends. Looking back, the scene that day seemed like a distant and foolish dream of a silly little girl. She shouldn't have even had a partner, let alone children. It seemed not all that long ago when the very idea of children… was forbidden…

A Saarebas was not permitted such an honour. Her blood was tainted, impure. She was impure. The offspring would be abominations. If the Qun knew what she had created... No, she couldn't think on that. Wouldn't allow it.

A shiver ran down her body, memories came flooding back as they always did when she didn't focus on the present day. It was hard for her at times, to block out the sounds of her own screaming. Her hands clenched as she could feel hot iron. The feeling of being suffocated as a burning leash was chained around her, bounding all that she was inside. The stinging needle as it thread through a child's lips. Scars that would never heal. Burning that would never go away as her horns were permanently removed, brutally and without mercy. Everyone would know what she was, the shame she had become. They called the act an honour; it didn't feel that way. But she accepted it.

Saarebas's nostrils flared. Instinctively, she raised a hand up to trace the jagged scars through her lips, the hollow curves that would forever mark her for what she was. She was Saarebas, not Saare. Saare was a loving name her Kadan wished to grant, a name not a title. But she couldn't be that, not yet anyway.

Tal, her loving and dear Kadan, tried desperately to help free her from the chains. He was the one who broke free from the Qun's hold, rescuing her. But, he was too late in the end, she feared. She couldn't help but wonder what had possessed Tal that day to free her, what forbidden magic had taken over his stoned heart. He was Arvaarad. He was her captor and leader, he held her chains and was meant to guard her from escaping or being corrupted. In the end, he was the one who was corrupted. He was tainted, but not by magic. The man claimed something stronger took hold over him; he claimed he felt something that the Qun didn't really share for one person. It was the day he called her Kadan.

"Mamma?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, her mind was such a fragile thing and so easily caught off balance. Blinking back the fog of her memories, she looked down to spy her eldest. The boy looked up worriedly, the concern radiated as always through his pale eyes. It was so strange for the Saarebas to see this child; a child that was so entirely Tal, and yet still herself. But, unique, in his own little way. A perfect creation, spawned from imperfection and misery.

His baggy clothes were covered in dirt, shoes long forgotten in the rough play. His hair was twisted and scruffy, the length rendered the boy unable to see without constantly brushing it from his face. It shone magnificently against his grey skin, the different tones of silver made him look all the more precious to Saarebas.

"Yes, my little one." Her eyelids fluttered slightly.

She tried her best to mask the pain that ached inside, a pain that never dulled. She felt empty, when she desperately craved to feel whole. She needed to, for her children's sake.

"Can I sit with you?" the boy sighed.

"Of course." Her lips twitched slightly. She sometimes wished desperately she could smile. "Do you not wish to play anymore?"

"Train." He puffed his chest out.

"Yes. Apologises." She snorted in amusement, a tiny sound only for her son to hear.

"I'm a little tired." He sighed again. "And Pa wanted to train Ash."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Adaar rolled his eyes, such an odd gesture. "She is a baby. She can't do much, I told him."

"Given the chance, she may surprise." Saarebas's eyes twinkled.

"That's what Pa said."

"Your father is a wise man, little Adaar." Saarebas nodded.

"Ma…" he groaned. "Taurus, remember."

"Of course." Saarebas sighed slightly.

Adaar slumped to the floor heavily, his lips stuck out in annoyance. Strangely, and yet naturally, Saarebas began to run her fingers through his long silver hair, attempting desperately and timidly to untangle the few knots. It was due to be cut, but Saarebas liked when her little one allowed it to grow. It reminded her of the styles of their people. Silly that she should care, but still she did.

He leaned back into her touch; the child had grown accustomed to a life of limited contact with his mother. It was obvious he enjoyed what little he was graced with. Saarebas's heart hurt at the thought; how terrible of a mother she surely was.

Saarebas looked up to watch for a moment as her Kadan allowed their youngest to ride atop his shoulders. He held her firmly in place, there was no danger when she was in his care. The tiny babe giggled and clapped; a talent she had recently developed and come to relish. Saarebas wanted to smile at the sight; to show how much she loved being gifted with such a family. To anyone watching perhaps they appeared like a normal family, a happy family. She hoped they truly were, her children deserved as much.

"Ash said her first words before." Her son looked up and beamed.

"Oh?" Saarebas spoke casually, but the glint in her eyes surely gave away her excitement.

"Yeah." He giggled. "She said 'da'."

"That is more a sound, than a word Imekari." She let out an amused breath.

"Nope. She was talking to Papa." The boy beamed with utter pride. "She was saying Da, like Pa. It's another name for him."

"You sound certain of that."

"I am." He grinned. "I hope she says my name soon."

"Adaar is a little trickier than da, little one."

"Taurus." He pouted.

"Apologises." Saarebas sighed.

In all honesty, she respected her mate's decision to allow their child the choice in his own name. She just found it difficult to understand. Naming her children at all was a difficult task; and she almost despised it. She felt conflicted; her name was a role, and she was not meant to give such a title to others. Naming was so… strange to her.

She should have been grateful her son wanted his own name, but she was confused with why she didn't entirely like it. Perhaps, it was as if the name given wasn't good enough? That she had failed to begin with. Tal seemed to find adjustment outside the Qun easier and found the concept of names more familiar. He never seemed to belong in that world, never fit quite right. He was too curious, even as he grew. Always asked more than needed, questioned his worth. It wasn't until his first re-education, did he learn to keep such thoughts inside.

Still, Saarebas wished she could become free, just as he was. She wished she could become his Saare, be the Kadan he deserved and the mother her children craved. She had hoped with the birth of her daughter Ash, things would have been easier.

She tuned in once more to the present; her son spoke quickly about things she didn't quite understand. Games he wished to play with Tal, lessons he would teach his baby sister, adventures he knew they would both share. She nodded along, listening but preferring to remain silent. Speaking freely was still foreign to her. Though she had been outside the Qun for almost seven years, she had only recently grown accustomed to speaking her mind.

"Mamma…" once more her son interrupted her thoughts. "Can I ask you something?"

"You always can, little one."

"Why doesn't anyone like me?" he hung his head.

"I do not understand." She frowned. "Your father and I do. And your baby sister."

"I know that…" he sighed in annoyance. "I mean… other people… I don't know why… Maybe I did something wrong?"

"I-I don't understand…"

"Everyone doesn't like me." His voice grew shaky. "Everyone who is different from me…"

"Different?" her frown deepened in confusion.

"Anyone who doesn't look like me…" he sighed, picking at a loose thread on his pants.

"You mean… bas?" Adaar nodded.

Saarebas thought for a moment; how could she explain something so difficult, in a way that seemed simple. How could she explain to a child that the world saw him as a monster?

"Who doesn't like you, little one?" Saarebas attempted to get the full story. "Specifically?"

"The other children… in the village." His lip trembled. "I was playing the woods this morning-"

"You know you shouldn't wander off alone." Her voice wavered in stress. "It is dangerous, Adaar."

"I know mama… I'm sorry…" tears welled as he looked up in fear. "I shouldn't have gone out there…"

"What happened?" she grit her teeth, seeing her child's anguish. "Did someone hurt you?"

"No…. yes…" he hiccupped as tears began to escape. "The other children, they saw me. I asked if they wanted to play… they called me a filthy savage, a monster. Some kept doing this with their fingers…" he lifted his hands up to symbol horns. "They mooed at me mama, like I was an animal…"

"And-and what did you do?" her stomach flipped as the story unfolded.

"I didn't do anything." He shook his head. "I was scared… that's why I didn't tell Papa… I didn't want him to be angry…"

"He wouldn't have, little one." Saarebas felt pained. "He wouldn't be angry at you when you did nothing wrong."

"I must have Mamma!" he cried out. "Why else did they do that? They yelled and me and kept calling me mean names… And-and they threw rocks at me…"

He lifted his fringe up slightly, revealing a rather deep and nasty gash. Saarebas saw red, her hands twitched viciously, nostrils flaring. Her child was hurt, she failed to protect him. No, this wasn't her fault. It was the filthy bas, bas who knew nothing of her son's nature. How gentle he was, how pure. They could hate Saarebas, that was what was expected. She was a monster, but not her son. Not her precious baby.

"What did I do Mamma…?" he wept. "Why do they hate me?"

Saarebas felt her heart break as she saw the pain and confusion in her child's eyes. She wasn't built for this, wasn't designed to handle this task. She was a weapon, she wasn't designed to love. Her hand hovered nervously above his head, she almost patted her own child some stray animal. She felt disgusted, no better than the cruel children that called him a beast.

Instead, Saarebas did something she never thought she was capable of doing. She picked her small child up, and cradled him in her arms. She froze, as did he. But then, the boy sobbed and bundled into his mother's arms. And Saarebas's hardened heart melted. She held him as tight as possible without hurting him, just enough to show she cared. As his tiny heartfelt sobs fell, she hushed him and cooed lovingly. An act so completely alien to her, and yet it came… naturally.

"You did nothing, my little one…" she sighed, pressing her head against his.

"Then why did they hurt me?" he trembled, nuzzling in more.

"Because…" she paused, unsure herself how to sum up the reasoning behind such blatant hate. "They do not understand. They saw you as Qunari. They saw you as a threat that their parents warned them of."

"Why?" he mumbled into her chest.

"Because, our kind… are something to be feared." She frowned, realising how cruel her words were going to sound. "Because, little one, our people are seen as monsters. Because, in truth… some of us are monsters…"

"Am… Am I a monster?"

Saarebas pulled his head up gently, wiping tears away with a timid thumb. She didn't need to think what she was doing, and for the first time it didn't feel wrong to her.

"No, my sweet little one." Her lip curled up slightly. "You and your sister are the most precious and pure creations. You are my heart."

She placed his tiny grey hand over the area where her scared heart beat steadily. His eyes widened, stunned with the nature of care his mother was showing.

"You are not monsters." She added firmly. "Never question that. One day, you will be strong, fierce… dangerous… But, what you chose to do defines whether you are a monster or not… not what you appear to be…"

She paused; was there truth to what she was saying? Her words went against all the Qun poisoned into her mind from birth. Did she believe her children were not capable of what she thought was evil? What if Adaar developed magic, or Ash? Would she be able to still see them as they once were; innocent and pure?

She looked down into her sons watery eyes. The answer was obvious. He smiled sweetly, a little lopsided and teeth missing. His nose was runny and eyes looked itchy; his hair tangled and a mess. He was perfect. And she would always see him that way. She didn't deserve him.

"You are not a monster my son." She sighed. "Despite being born from one…"

"You are not a monster, Mamma." Adaar shook his head, almost angrily. "Monsters aren't beautiful. You are definitely not a monster, that's just silly."

Saarebas watched him with curiosity, her son had a fire in him, a strength that not even his father could hold. If he had been born in the Qun, things might have been different. He might have changed things. He still could.

She almost chuckled, almost. Something she had not felt the desire to do in many years; since before she became Saarebas. Adaar, no Taurus, watched her with confusion. No doubt he had never seen his mother in such a way. He was as confused as Saarebas was. She pressed her forehead against his, a tiny hint of a smile touching her lips as she closed her eyes happily.

She could tell Taurus was smiling, grinning rather. No more fear, no more sadness. His mother had chased his fear away.

A Saarebas is not born for this role. Nor should she ever have been given it. But, Saarebas was grateful every day that she was given the chance to try and prove herself. She would try to remember this feeling when the darkness returned, try to feel worthy of the joy her children gave her. She would never be perfect, but by some miraculous miracle… she had created it.

A/N:

Okay, so Saarebas suffers from PTSD and severe depression and even probably a touch of post natal depression, since Ash is probably not even a year old at this point. I hope portraying her character isn't offensive and I did so tastefully. I have PTSD, so I just went off my own feelings and experience with having it.
Anyway, I just wanted to clear up that little detail about Saarebas/Saare. Because she seemed a lot more blunt in Qunari Do Not Love, and I just wanted to demonstrate that sometimes she has up days and sometimes she has down days. She isn't a bad mother, hell no, I think she is a pretty bloody fantastic mother! I just wanted to show you all that even though she is doing the best with what little she has, she still doesn't feel like she is adequate enough.

Man... this family gives me way too many emotional feelings D: *hugs screen* I love them so much!
Not sure how many more of these shorts there will be though. See how inspiration takes me *shrugs*