Lanaya sighed heavily, her mind distant. Zathrian had needed herbs, and even though it was a menial task normally reserved for a lesser elf in rank, she was eager to get away from the clan. While she was thankful to the Dalish for saving her from a life of slavery, she never felt like one of them. Lanaya cherished these times she could be alone with her thoughts, far from the responsibilities of being Zathrian's First. When she had the chance, she would steal away to a sacred lake tucked behind a dense glade, like an oasis amidst the choking bramble and thick vegetation of the forest. It was a special place, a place even the animals seemed to revere. It was claimed by no clan and open to all who sought refuge. A place of peace.
Stealing a glance over her shoulder, Lanaya squeezed between two bushes onto a secret path. While not forbidden, she knew that she would be rebuked by certain members of the clan who took her retreats for laziness. Quietly, she ran through the trees, feeling the breeze brush against her cheeks. It had been too long since she had…
Voices. She slowed her pace and silently approached the edge of the glade. What she saw caused her eyes to widen. Instinctively, she clasped her hands over her mouth to prevent a cry from escaping her lips. Men, humans, were everywhere. They were coming out of the belly of an enormous silver bird the likes of which she had never seen. Was it alive? It looked as though it had crashed; she could see a wide, long path the vessel had carved through the woodland, coming to a halt at the base of the lake.
She looked closer, squinting her eyes to adjust to the blinding rays of the sun hitting the water's surface. The humans seemed to be joyful, happy. Running toward the lake, laughing and hugging one another. She saw no slaves, no taskmasters, no whips. Lanaya's curiosity was brimming over. While everything about them was completely foreign to her, they seemed harmless. Perhaps she would watch them a little longer. She made herself comfortable on the soft grass, content with observing. One man sat apart from the others, staring into the distance, deep in thought. Another man - she couldn't make out his features from so far away - approached him. She would have loved to hear what they were talking about. Suddenly, the two men jumped, and Lanaya caught something out of the corner of her eye. Arrows were flying from the trees into the humans' camp. Looking for the source, she soon spotted Zathrian across the clearing, his expression unreadable. And he was staring right back at her.
Zathrian knew Lanaya better than she knew herself. Choosing her to be the next leader of the Dalish was divisive to the clan, but it revealed where true loyalties lied. If he were able to admit it to himself, he also loved her like a daughter.
That was why he allowed her to steal away to the lake under the pretense of gathering herbs. That she thought this was a secret only endeared her to him all the more. After following her, he would spend as much time as he dared watching her, protecting her from harm. She was gentle by nature, could never hurt another living creature. But he knew something she didn't; untold dangers roamed this part of the land, and if anything took her from him, Zathrian didn't want to discover what he would be willing to sacrifice to save her.
So, this time was no different. Zathrian cut a path to the opposite side of the clearing, up a small embankment where he could overlook the entire glade. That is when he saw them. Humans, swarms of them, swimming in the consecrated water of the lake. He could hardly believe it; they had taken their land from them once, and they dared to come here and take it again. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran back to gather his scouts. Returning with a large band of elves, he quickly accessed the situation. Their clothing was unusual, and he saw no animals in their camp. No swords, spears, or obvious weapons of any kind could be identified. What he presumed to be their ship seemed to have careened through the woods somehow; he had never seen anything like it.
Zathrian saw the man who must be in charge judging by his commanding posture. He was speaking with what appeared to be another man, but he couldn't see his face. He was wearing some kind of helmet in the shape of a…no, could it? He gritted his teeth, now certain he encountered an enemy. It was the face of a dragon.
He pointed to the two men and quickly gave his orders.
"I want them captured alive. Scatter the camp with your arrows, then surround them. No unnecessary deaths. I do not want blood to be spilt on this sacred ground."
With hands in the air, spears pointed at their necks, Garrus and Kaidan were getting desperate. Their captors were forming a large circle around them and gradually beginning to close the ring tighter.
"So, Major, tell me again why you didn't use your biotics to throw these pointy-eared devils back into the forest?" Garrus mumbled.
Kaidan rolled his eyes and whispered, "What do you think someone with L2 implants can do, exactly? I can't fling an entire army into the air."
Garrus was losing patience. "Well, do something, or I imagine we're going to be put on spits and roasted before the day's over. Our comms are down, so we can't coordinate anything with the Normandy." He scoffed. "These people don't even have proper weapons. Being captured by them would just be embarrassing."
"Okay then, on my mark. I throw hard right into the middle of them help clear a path, then we charge through the rest and run for it."
"Run for it? That's your plan?"
Kaidan felt a rough pair of hands pulling down on his elbows from behind, trying to bind his wrists. "Time's up, Garrus. Mark!"
A lightning bolt of blue crackled the air as it blew their captors off of their feet. Garrus let out a yell and barreled head-first into the throng. Running through the gaping hole the turian had created, Kaidan threw up a barrier and sprinted toward the trees. As Garrus followed, he looked over his shoulder. The cavalry had finally arrived in the form of EDI, and she was providing a magnificent distraction. Careful to avoid injuring the natives, she was quickly and efficiently grabbing their weapons right from their grasp and breaking them in half with her grip. The way the spears bounced off of her metal alloy body was almost comical, and although she was surrounded, none of them could constrain her.
"Let's keep running and double back to the Normandy! There's no way we're getting through the way we came," Kaidan yelled as he and Garrus continued their sprint.
"Agreed!" Garrus spit out a mouthful of leaves as they were forced to slow to a halt. "If we can cut our way through this damn jungle."
A voice came from behind them. "I can help you."
Kaidan turned quickly, ready to throw another biotic charge, but the small woman before them raised her hands. She was unarmed.
"Wait! I'm not with them! I mean, I'm with them, but I'm not like them. You didn't hurt any of my clan when you had the chance. And you didn't summon any demons. I don't know who you are, but I don't think you're who we should be fighting in this war."
Was she talking about the Reapers? Kaidan and Garrus exchanged concerned glances.
"We crashed here. We mean you no harm. We just need to get back to our ship. Can you find us a path around this open area so we can approach from the other side?" Kaidan asked urgently.
The girl was staring at Garrus, her mouth hanging open. Garrus shifted uneasily. "I don't think she's ever seen a turian before."
"What is a…turian? You have the face of a dragon, but you walk like a man," she said, wonder showing on her face. She looked at Kaidan next. "Are you an apostate?"
"Look, we don't have a lot of time. You're right when you said we're not going to hurt you or your people." Garrus glanced at Kaidan. "We're not exactly from around here."
She thought for a moment, then nodded, her decision made. "Alright, but the scouts will not leave you alone until the Keeper's questions are answered."
Kaidan shook his head. "Your leader wants answers, but so do we. We aren't going to be taken hostage without a fight. And let me warn you, our weapons are much more effective than yours. We don't want to hurt you, but we'll protect our people."
"I believe you. The magic you used was unlike any we've ever seen," she said. "Follow me, then."
As she walked back to the glade along a carefully hidden path, the lake was in view once more. EDI had scattered the primitive weapons around the natives' feet, and she was speaking to what appeared to be their leader. Other crew members had exited the Normandy and were standing at various strategic points, guns at the ready. Their would-be captors appeared to have surrendered. "Wonderful," Garrus said. "This is how we make first contact with a new race. They'll be a part of the Citadel Council in no time, don't you think?"
As soon as she saw them, EDI passed through the group and met them in the middle of the clearing. "Communications have been badly damaged. It will take some time to repair our links. It made it impossible to form a cohesive strategy to rescue you and Garrus. After gauging the crude nature of their weapons, I decided to form an offensive myself. Are you hurt?"
"No, EDI. Thanks." Kaidan pointed to their guide. "This woman may be able to help us. She can speak our language, and she's friendly."
"This race can also speak our language, although they have their own native dialect. This implies a common ancestry, although I don't have enough data to access when the divergence happened. Would you like a report of what I've told them so far?"
Garrus folded his arms across his chest. "Sure, tell me you told them we're from outer space, I'm a dragon, and the Major's magical. Then we have some questions of our own."
EDI had done better than Kaidan had hoped. She had given them just enough information to keep them subdued, but not enough to reveal anything meaningful. After commanding his crew to put down their weapons, Zathrian and Major Alenko sat across from each other as the natives built a small fire between them.
Because Zathrian refused to speak in Garrus' presence, EDI stood guard by Kaidan's side as Zathrian grudgingly answered questions first. Kaidan learned of the elves of the Dalish clan whose homeland was taken from them. Some believed they are at war against darkspawn and a Blight on the land, although the Dalish have largely removed themselves from this fight to protect their own. This Blight is led by an archdemon, who takes the form of a huge dragon that can only be slain by those who call themselves the Grey Wardens. Where they can be found, the Dalish do not know. There are other races in this realm, including humans. Kaidan felt a surge of hope; where there is a human colony, there must be some kind of direct communication to Earth.
After a short internal deliberation, Kaidan decided to tell the elves a select version of the truth, and as little of it as possible.
They were from another land in the sky far from here, their ship named the Normandy had brought them, and they had just fought their own war against giant beasts called Reapers. They crashed near this lake, were hopelessly lost, and only desired to find a way back to their home. Garrus was, in fact, not a dragon, but another common race from their land.
"He bears the face of a dragon." Zathrian snapped. "How do I know you haven't made a deal with this demon and are a blood mage?"
"And what is a blood mage exactly?" Kaidan asked.
Zathrian shook his head. "Why do I continue to be surprised at your ignorance? Blood mages use blood to perform their magic. They are often accompanied by demons, making them very dangerous. The only reason I agree to speak with you is that your demon is like one I've never seen before, which intrigues me."
"Is that so," Kaidan said flatly. He would have done anything to have Shepard here with him. She had this incredible ability to bring even the most stubborn races rallying to her side. Unfortunately, he didn't have the same skill or patience. The day had given way to nightfall, and his head was throbbing. As the soldiers surrounding the elves were relieved by the second watch, he looked toward the Normandy longingly. "This has been a very helpful conversation. Thank you. I can't convince you that I'm not a blood mage and Garrus isn't a dragon-faced demon. That's fine. Let's make a truce." Kaidan stood and stretched his legs. "You know that our weapons surpass yours. We could have hurt you if we had wanted. We could have taken the woman captive, but we didn't. I only ask that you do one thing. Tell us the direction of the closest human settlement, and we'll let your people return home."
Zathrian sighed and stood. "We have no kinship with you humans. You are the ones that drove us from of our homeland. If you wish to attack each other, I have no say against it." He pointed into the forest. "Travel west and you will reach a fortress known as Ostegar. You are bound to stumble upon your own kind there."
Kaidan extended his hand. "Thank you for answering my questions. No hard feelings I hope."
Zathrian stared back coldly. "Take your ship, take your men, leave this land and never return. You have contaminated this sacred ground with your presence. That is all the favor I ask." He signaled to his scouts and prepared to leave. "May your 'Maker' have mercy on you."
Moving his outstretched hand to the back of his neck, Kaidan squeezed hard. If Shepard could see me now, he thought. How did she handle all of this diplomatic crap? "Right. If you ever see us again, it'll be too soon. Got it. Glad we didn't kill each other." He turned and headed straight for the Normandy, never looking back.
Garrus met him in the CIC. "So, how'd it go? You look beat."
"EDI can tell you all about it. I need to lay down." Walking toward the elevator, he willed his finger to push the button for Shepard's quarters. Their quarters. After dinner on the Citadel, she had asked if he would bunk with her from them on and to hell with regs, as she had put it. Of course he would. He was in love with her. She was the one bright spot in his life that kept him going.
The doors slid open and he found himself standing at the threshold of their cabin. He blinked. Shepard's clothes were in a pile at the foot of their bed, right where he had thrown them. He vividly remembered taking them off of her the last night they were together. The night he had proposed.
