Dragon Age Origins: Pawn of the Wolf

Full circle

Foreword: Dragon Age, Leliana and all related lore/ characters belong to Bioware - Thanks guys for an awesome game. Me? I simply claim paternity to Nyx. I am having fun writing this. Feedback welcome!

Nyx awoke to the alien, nauseating feeling of her life being drained away from her, and fought a wave of panic at the idea that the feeling would be part of her forever.

You know why you did it, she thought to herself, clenching her teeth. You knew the alternative. You can live with this. She rolled on her side in the soft, warm bed and clutched her knees, waiting for the nausea to dissipate, which it did, partly.

She inhaled deeply, trying to make sense of her surroundings, with little success. The subtle signals of the night air were covered in a filthy layer of smoke and less pleasant things. She reckoned that it would take months, perhaps years for Denerim to shake off the smell of fire and death.

Her nose did catch a whiff of mabari, however, and she whistled softly. A happy whine and a strangely arrhythmic click of paws later, she felt a hot, putrid breath on her face and groaned a warning.

"No licking!"

Runt whined gently and pushed his massive head against her hand; she scratched the softer fur behind his ear, wondering at the odds of them being reunited after what was probably the greatest battle of their time. She propped herself up on the bed, the familiar flash of pain in her left hand informing her that she was decidedly not dreaming. Runt hopped and laid his forepaw on the bed, and she saw that he, too, had not escaped the Blight unscathed. The hound's right paw was missing, a neat, surgical bandage hiding the stump just below the elbow. She held up her own wizened hand with a bitter smile.

"Guess now we really are a well-assorted couple, hey Runt?"

The mabari whined his agreement and she gave the thick muscles by his jaw a vigorous massage while she examined the room, a large, well-furnished affair with walls of artfully cut stone, as luxurious as the functional Fereldan mindset would ever allow. She was probably in one of a handful of luxury estates that still stood in the ruined city. There was a lit candle by her bedside, and in the flickering light she saw a wide area on the floor where darker lines ran between the stone slabs; it would take a lot of work to erase the traces of the Denerim massacre.

Nyx shuddered and reached for her Dalish armor, stacked neatly on a nearby chair, the leather cleaned by grateful hands. She put the armor on, enjoying the feeling of supple skin on hers, Leliana's gift. She wondered if they would let her wear it, later. Probably not; the thought saddened her.

Taking a deep breath, she started to scan the palace with her mind's eye; her vision was strangely blurred and deformed, as though she now saw the Veil through dirty glass, or very tired eyes. Maybe that was how the weaker mages saw the world.

I am one of them now...

Nyx bit her lip, trying to stifle her panic before it made her scream and rouse the whole sodding palace. Images flashed through her mind: birds with broken wings, crippled veterans; caged, mangy wolves.

Runt's nose pressed on her hand, cool and wet, and she knelt by the dog, pressing her forehead against his, letting his warmth and coarse, heartening scent soothe the fear and bitterness. After what felt like an eternity, she went back to searching the Veil, her mind groping around like a blind man.

A few healers were busy in the vicinity, their magic forming faint ripples on the surface of the Beyond; very close in the silent building she found what she was looking for, a soft, warm shimmer that was as much her own as it was Leliana's.

Nyx's mind carefully reached for the sleeping bard, feelings of peace and acceptance radiating from her lover's light-form when she touched her. Leliana would probably sleep for another day or two, befuddling her healers as her body slowly adapted to the changes the sorceress had wrought. Nyx lingered for a while, smiling, before she finally called her consciousness back to her body and walked to the door. She had to leave Runt inside; she didn't want his hopping around to attract attention and complicate her departure. Before she left, she gave the mabari a short hug, feeling her resolve melt in his warm, rough fur.

A look at the empty hallway, and she trod lightly along silent corridors, looking for an exit in what appeared to be a labyrinth of halls and bedrooms. Apart from the Tower of magi she had never been in a building so big. In the end she just gave up on finding a proper exit and crossed through a grand bedroom, the furniture here smashed and smeared with dried blood, and paused on the balcony, taking in the sight of the devastated Palace gardens with the great, festering heap of darkspawn corpses waiting to be carted out of town and burned. It was no wonder that the rooms on this side of the Palace were left empty; the stench almost made her eyes water.

A light touch on her shoulder and she spun with lightning speed, her blade almost coming out of its scabbard before Zevran's hand caught her wrist. His grip was gentle, but the light in his eyes was not, and he did not release her when she let go of the sword hilt.

"So, I take it you are leaving?" The assassin's murmur was as pleasant and controlled as ever, his expression affable, but she could feel his anger all the same, conveyed in the subtle tension of his muscles, the way his ears cocked back ever so slightly.

"What if I am?" she whispered, her voice a low, threatening hiss, "What is it to you, Zev? Do I owe you an explanation?"

"To me, no. Perhaps some other person?"

Nyx could have sworn that she heard contempt in his voice. Of all men, the failed assassin believed he could pass judgment on her. The thought was amusing; what infuriated her was his reason for doing so. Jealousy ran deep in her, and the thought that Zevran may well enjoy what she had sacrificed so much to preserve was maddening. Perhaps she should remedy this; weakened though she was, she could still make short work or a Crow or two, and this particular Crow owed her a life.

A subtle burn in her veins warned her of the coming of the dark flames and she focused on Leliana's faint Fade imprint, blocking out the anger. The flames receded almost immediately, as though they shared in her magic's ruin; she felt a sudden pang of hope, examined it, and discarded it. She would not trade her resolution for wishful thinking.

Nyx leaned forward, bringing her face an inch from the assassin's, taking in his scent; leather, spices and warm oak wood under the sun.

"Look me in the eye, my Antivan snake, and tell me this is not what you wish. Tell me you will not be happy to fill in my shoes when I am gone."

"I… this is a low blow, my friend." But she could see the idea working its way through his mind, and his grip loosened on her wrist. She pushed him away gently and he let go, looking sad and confused.

"Why?"

"Because I am dangerous. That's reason enough for you. Just tell Leliana..." A pause, the lump in her throat strangling her; this was harder than she had thought. "Tell her that I held my promise, will you? That I didn't let her come to harm."

Nyx turned to the moon-drenched gardens with their torched trees and still ponds, then remembered something and shot Zevran a last look above her shoulder, a spark of her old arrogance dancing in her silver eyes.

"And be sure Anora makes good on her promise of a substantial boon. Tell the bitch that I will be back for her if she doesn't. You can work out the details with Leliana."

Working the transformation felt incredibly tiring, and when she was done she rested on the balcony's tiled floor for a few minutes, brown and grey feathers shivering under Zevran's gaze. Then she stirred, and in a few beats of silken wings she had left the brooding assassin far behind.

The flight was extenuating. She had never flown late at night, and now she understood why falcons kept to the daylight: without the sun's blessing, the warm drafts which allowed her to ascend and maintain her altitude effortlessly were all but gone, and she had to rely on muscle power only.

To make things worse, it appeared that the further she was from Leliana, the stronger the drain from the bond. Soon it became evident that she would never reach her destination before dawn, as she had to pause every now and then, perched on tree tops or barn roofs. Once a long-eared owl mistook her for some exotic brand of poultry, and she narrowly escaped the silent talons, shrieking in dismay as she dashed away. After facing an Archdemon, the idea of ending her life in the stomach of a hungry owl was rather vexing.

Morning found her asleep on the highest tower of a ruined castle, and it took her a while to figure out her position. Soaring high on air currents, she saw the distant flicker of sunlight on Lake Calenhad and headed for that direction. It was a clear day; Ferelden under her wings was a vision of glory, and she burned it all in her memory, the warmth of the morning sun, the wind rustling in her soft feathers, and the immensity of the world.

She circled the Tower for a long time before she finally perched on Irving's window sill, rousing the old geezer from his afternoon nap with a few dry raps of her hooked beak on the stained glass.

Leliana dreams of the grassy hollow by the Brecilian forest. Nyx lies by her side, the sunlight shining impossibly white on her naked skin, blue veins showing faintly on her neck and tiny breasts, her raven hair long again and flowing like a river of jet. In her dream she knows that Nyx has to leave for some mysterious journey, and she tries to delay the moment by kissing and drawing her into more love games, striving to rouse her lover's passion with all the deliberate skill of a bard. Nyx returns her kiss with infinite tenderness, only to push her away gently, shaking her head.

Nyx stands up and a great cold comes upon Leliana, chilling her to the bone; she looks for her clothes, but they are nowhere to be found. The grass and the brook are gone, too; the bedrolls are now laid on what appears to be an infinite expanse of dark ice. Nyx' gaze pierces her, and Leliana hears the elf's voice even though the pale, smiling lips do not move.

"This is my choice."

The ice opens under the sorceress' bare feet, and she disappears without a sound.

Leliana awakes in a princely suite to find Runt by her bedside; she already knows that Nyx is gone.

Nyx lies very straight and still in the dormitory she shares with the other Tranquil. It is well past time to sleep, but her body has yet to acknowledge the Tower's rules and she does not feel sleepy. Her silver eyes, now cold and listless, are fixed on the decadent Tevinter ceiling with its fornicating imps; there are one hundred seventy-nine imps and twenty-six dragons in her field of vision.

She does not hate them any more. The hatred, along with all fear and her love for the bard, is gone for good.

She remembers clearly how she feared and doubted until the end, how she trembled even as she asked Irving to let her undergo the Ritual. Now she is at peace, and deeply satisfied with her decision. It was, quite simply, the only logical choice. With her connection to the Fade extinguished, Fen'Harel can rage until the Grey Forest crumbles under His paws, He will never get to her.

Whatever it takes. To defeat the Blight, to foil destiny, to save the only being that ever mattered.

Nyx has won. He will never, never have Leliana.

She still feels the bond, and she knows that it will be with her until the end of her days. It fills her with the quiet satisfaction of a work well done. She believes it possible that in the years they have left to live, before the taint finally kills them, the bard will find happiness, although she seriously doubts it will have anything to do with Zevran.

Happiness is a worthy pursuit, isn't it?

And being Tranquil is not so bad after all.

She still has her memories.

Dabbler's notes:

Well it's been quite a ride, but this story has come to an end. Well… kind of. A sequel is coming, but might stay in the works for a little time. Stay tuned for the upcoming trailer!

Big thanks to all readers/ faves/ alerts; huge thanks to all those of you who took the time to R special thanks to Snafu1000, Lehni, Fellow Sufferer for continued support, & much appreciated reviews. I strongly recommend checking out Snafu1000 and Lehni's fics for some really good reading.