Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter has taken so long, I've been ill recently and had writers block.
Thank you for all your follows and favourites, it's really encouraging to me as a first time writer!
This chapter ends rather abruptly, so I may revisit this at some point - anyway, enjoy!
Eira entered the Hanged Man with a heavy heart. Her actions could have cost her dearly; the others at the Bone Pit certainly looked weary when they looked at her, as if they were afraid of what she might do next. Well, she knew what would help cheer her up and she was grateful that she didn't recognise anyone at the bar.
Corff looked up from cleaning a tankard at the woman who had slumped into a barstool.
"What would you like?"
"A large tankard of ale and some of that 'mystery stew' I've heard about. I'm starving..." Eira muttered.
The barman nodded, as he turned to the back room to get more ale and food. Soon a steaming bowl of stew was sitting before Eira, with a slightly dirty tankard full of acidic ale slops.
As with everything she ate, she sniffed the food disregarding the odd looks she got. 'Goat, it's definitely goat stew.' Grabbing a wooden spoon, Eira greedily gulped down the food then held the empty bowl out to Corff.
"Same again?"
Corff was surprised; only a few people had eaten the stew that quickly, and nobody had ever asked for second helpings before. She wasn't even running for the slop bucket...
Eira continued alternating between eating the overcooked goat stew and drinking the ale for several minutes. Fighting always got her hungry, and she was steadily getting drunk. The door opened and another person had sat themselves at the bar next to her.
Looking up, she saw that the white-haired Altmer with the grey scent she had met earlier today had just sat next to her. As soon as Corff noticed Fenris sitting, he placed a bottle of cheap wine in front of him. He knew his usual order, and the elf was disinclined to talk to him. After taking a few sips of wine, Fenris turned to Eira.
"Where's Hawke? I was hoping she would be here."
"No idea," Eira replied. "I came back here after finishing the job at the Bone Pit. She was with Varric and Anders though, and she's a competent fighter. She won't be in any trouble."
"I see."
"What was your name again?"
"Fenris."
Fenris and Eira continued to drink in silence. The Tevinter elf eventually broke the quiet.
"You seem rather self-assured of Hawke being fine. The Bone Pit is dangerous place."
"We took care of the dragon that was hovering around there. The mine is safe again, or as safe as it can ever be as a dragon lair," Eira shortly answered. 'That mine should have been abandoned long ago!' she thought angrily.
"That's all very well, but why did you return on your own?"
"They needed some time to themselves after that fight and I needed to be alone," Eira muttered after gulping down some more ale. 'I was hoping for more time to be a normal mercenary before being a Dragonborn again...It's like Whiterun all over again.'
The two elves continued drinking in silence, for which they were both grateful.
After half an hour, Hawke, Varric and Anders walked into the inn; Anders was walking rather reluctantly – he didn't want Justice to emerge and neither did he want to be shouted at again.
"Hi Fenris; it's good to see you outside your mansion," Hawke greeted. "Eira, we need to talk – about your 'abilities'. Could you join us in Varric's suite, and perhaps you could come too Fenris? I need your advice."
"Sure, I was waiting for this talk..." Eira mumbled as she unsteadily stood up and moved to the stairs.
"What do you need me for Hawke?" Fenris was saying.
"I'll explain more upstairs."
Eira slumped into the stone chair as the others entered the room. She was mentally preparing for this interrogation, but her mind was fuzzy. 'I shouldn't have drunk so much...'
"It's about what happened at the Bone Pit. That 'Dragonborn' stuff..." Hawke started.
"What's that?" Fenris said, as he leaned against the wall.
"When we were fighting that dragon in the Bone Pit, there was some kind of magic at work between Eira and the dragon. She called it 'consuming the dragon's soul'..." Hawke explained.
"Perhaps it's better if 'Scales' explains," Varric replied.
Eira looked up in surprise "'Scales?' That's a new one; and you're right. I need to give you a better explanation of what happened."
Eira leaned back in the chair, "I guess I need to start from the very beginning; in my homeland there are legends, older than most books and songs. One of them is the Tale of the Dragonborn. It is said that a Dragonborn is a mortal born with a dragon soul – a soul misplaced in the wrong body you could say – and the stories also say that they have dragon blood too. These people are able to kill dragons and steal their power. You saw what happened at the Bone Pit; that's what happens every time a dragon is killed near me."
"Can't anyone kill a dragon?" Hawke asked. The others were just listening in silence.
"Yes, but the Dragonborn is the only one able to kill a dragon permanently. In Tamriel, dragons are technically immortal, spiritually speaking; another dragon can simply bring the dead one's soul back to its body and restore it."
Eira continued. "And that Shouting thing I can do? That's part of that whole Dragonborn thing. Although in Skyrim, people can learn how to Shout just like I can; it just takes them years of meditation just to learn one Word. What takes one talented person a decade to learn, I can learn in one minute. My mind just naturally comprehends it."
"What do you mean by Shouting? I take it that you don't mean talking loudly," Fenris asked.
"No. Shouting is speaking in the Dragon language."
"Dragons do not have language; they cannot speak," scoffed Fenris.
"No?" Eira looked up directly into Fenris' eyes. "Orin brit ro. Zu'u vonmindoraan, fahliil? Folaas."As Eira spoke, everyone in the room felt very strange as the words washed over them, almost as if their souls were vibrating.
"What was that?" Varric asked.
"Dragon tongue; I said, 'Irony. I'm an incomprehensible idea, elf? Wrong'... well, roughly translated," Eira smirked. "I spent a year studying the dragon language in a monastery, and the Words I use to Shout are in that language. Besides, words have power, regardless of language."
"I've heard that before," Varric said. "But words can't do what you did though."
"Dragon language is just a lot more potent than the common tongue." Eira paused while she thought of a good metaphor. "A general in charge of an army can cause a great deal of death by simply shouting the word 'Attack'; that word is a lot more powerful than any of mine in the appropriate mouth.
"Besides, did you notice that after I Shouted during that fight, the dragon concentrated its attacks on me? I think he understood me, and thought I was another dragon. It gave you another chance."
"That vaguely makes sense," Hawke said.
"Then allow to me to make this perfectly clear," Eira spoke to each person in the room. "I have only been honest to you. Anything I have done in the past, I've done because I thought it was right at the time or because I truly needed to in order to survive. In order to control my Tongue, I spent months at a monastery mediating and learning how to only use my Voice in true need; and I've adhered to that in spite of the temptations that come with life. If anything comes because of this ability while I'm here, it's my responsibility and I will deal with it alone."
"Can you leave us while we talk?" Marian asked.
"Sure," Eira replied as she walked out back to the bar.
"I think she's telling the truth, or at the very least she thinks that she's telling the truth," Hawke discussed with the rest of the group. They were all feeling rather rattled after that talk.
"There have been no stories about dragons speaking or whatever. The closest things to what she said are the tales of the dragon cults in Tevinter and Nevarran dragon hunters," Varric muttered.
"She's dangerous," Fenris snarled. "The dragon cults were treacherous, and she might be a Reaver too if she really does has dragon blood."
"Everything I was taught tells me that dragons are not to be trusted; and remember Flemeth? Eira seems similar to her, and we don't know what she is capable of," Anders worriedly said.
"For once we agree," Fenris muttered.
"Besides, the Darkspawn are attracted to dragons; the Old Gods themselves have the form of dragons. What if they can sense her? Think she's an Archdemon?" Anders continued.
Marian was thinking in silence as the others bickered around her. Eira didn't seem to be malevolent or to have an ulterior motive; but there was no denying that her power was dangerous. As well as being a mage, she had this whole 'dragon soul' thing?
"Is she a mage then?" Hawke heard Fenris asking.
"We've seen her cast healing spells and elemental magic. She insisted that she wasn't a mage when we asked her about it at the time," Varric answered.
"Then she is delusional," Fenris scoffed. "A mage that doesn't call themselves a mage, just someone who can cast magic; it's worse than the Magisters..."
"I think she called herself a 'Nightblade'... whatever that means..." Marian spoke up.
There was a brief silence before Anders remembered something.
"When I was in Amaranthine, the Warden Commander told me about Arcane Warriors," Anders said. "He said that in the days in Arlathan, the elven mages would channel their power through their bodies to become potent warriors. It might be something similar to that. He offered to teach it to me, but I never really saw the point in it to be honest; it just makes you into a more attractive target for the Templars."
"How did he find that out?" Varric asked
"He never said," Anders replied. "It must have been something he found out during the Blight."
Marian eventually came to a decision.
"How about this for an idea – Eira stays with us, but we keep a very close eye on her. She doesn't seem to have any malevolent intentions; but if the darkspawn seem to be interested in her we need to inform the Grey Wardens. Also if she uses magic 'inappropriately' we anonymously report her to the Templars."
There was a silence as the others considered this suggestion.
"You are too lenient on her Hawke, but it's your decision," Fenris muttered.
"I don't agree with sending her to the Templars – that's a death sentence, but everything else sounds fine to me," said Anders.
"As a mage, she hasn't casted that much magic since we've met her," Varric said. "But this plan sounds good. 'Better to have someone inside the thaig pissing out, than outside the thaig pissing in' as the Dwarven saying goes."
"Good," Marian stood up from her seat. "We also need to tell the others what has transpired here. I'll send them the message out tonight."
Eira looked up from her tankard, as she heard footsteps down the stairs. Eira and the others were coming down the stairs, Fenris left almost immediately after scowling at her.
"What's with the evil eye?" Eira asked Marian as she came up.
"Don't take it personally. Fenris has had some horrible experiences with mages and magic in the past," Marian said. "Anyway, we've decided that you can stay with us. We need to tell the others before we go to the Deep Roads however."
"As long as it doesn't go outside your group, I don't mind." Eira moved to stand up from her seat, while slightly pressing her fingers against her temple. "I shouldn't have drunk so much..."
Marian said to her, "Get some rest, we leave for the Deep Roads tomorrow..."
Thanks for reading this. As usual, please review and let me know what you think.
