Fairies in Thedas Rewrite
Prologue
Korcari Wilds
I groaned and looked around. I was in a forest? How did I… how was I in a forest? I was positive I lived in Denver Colorado – that was a damn city. Last time I checked Teleportation wasn't possible yet.
Now that I think about it though, I should be dead. The last thing I remembered was a fire – a fire I had died in. I'd been able to pass my son to his father before one of the support beams from the roof came down between us. I hadn't made noise as I died – no screaming, or loud cries. I hadn't wanted my sons' last memory of me to be my screams of pain as I died. Apparently, that was easier than I would have thought. I suppose the constant pain I was in for the past few years had been good for something.
I'd had Fibromyalgia; a disorder associated with widespread muscle and joint pain and stiffness accompanied by fatigue, disrupted sleep, struggles with memory – as well as anxiety and depression. After my insurance had been cut, I'd lost the ability to pay for my meds and… well, here we are.
"Well, well… what have we here?" That voice was too familiar by far. I turned to look at the sultry voices owner. She was 5'6 with gorgeous raven hair. She looked oddly elegant… her hair was long hung in waves down to her shoulder-blades though it was pulled back at the sides and pinned in the back with a feather ornament. Her top was halter-strapped, backless and dipped down to her navel. She did not wear a bra so her boobs were actually poking out the sides. Her pants looked sturdy enough though and her boots were lovely too. I couldn't stop staring at her bright golden eyes with a slight slit to them.
It was indeed Morrigan from Dragon Age. And by the looks of things, this was Origins. Damn. "What say you? Why have you come here? You are obviously not one of the Wilder folk, nor are you a scavenger by the look of you," she continued.
I cleared my throat, "Forgive me, but… could you tell me where I am?" I asked. I had to be sure.
"How very interesting; two people with manners in the same day. You are in the Korcari Wilds, west of Ostagar in southern Ferelden. Now then, tell me your name and I shall tell you mine," she answered with an amused glint to her eyes.
"My… my name is Arvaala. I think I need to speak with your mother. Flemeth may know how I got here," I said. I wasn't sure why I had chosen that name, it just popped into my mind. My name was Abigail before this. Her eyes widened and she took a step back.
"What exactly are you that you know this? Are you a blood mage?"
"Not that I'm aware of… I just know things, Morrigan."
"Hmm. Very well then; Follow me then. If it pleases you," she turned away and I stood to follow.
I trailed behind her – she shot me strange glances every now and then; attempting to figure me out. That made two of us, unfortunately. I was terrified – not that I was going to show weakness to the daughter of a dragon. I was sure she could smell it on me anyway.
The hut came into view not long after we began walking. The building was taller than I thought it would be. It looked a bit like the burrow from Harry Potter – 4 floors and a slight lean. This shack had been built hastily – and I was positive that Flemeth had only lived in this one for a good 25-30 years. Just long enough to have the place when Morrigan was born around 20-23 years ago.
The woman I had asked to see was standing near a lake or rather – a very large puddle. She looked so similar to the second and third games. Not a trace of the first game in sight. She stood around 5'8 with her white hair pulled into those four horns with red decorations. She wore the dark red and black outfit that made her look younger than she was – I knew she was in her 50's but the woman looked no older than late 30s'. When she turned to look at me, I could see that her eyes were also golden and slitted.
Morrigan spoke, "Mother, you have a guest."
Flemeth approached us and I straightened and said, "Aneth Ara, Asha'bellanar."
Flemeths' voice was smooth as she said, "You interest me – what do you need from me, girl?"
"I need either your help or your advice… I will do what I can to help stop the blight in turn."
That's when I looked down to a puddle to my left, and saw my reflection. I was still about 5'3, still bigger in the gut and chest than I liked, (at 240 pounds with boobs that were bigger than small melons, I was constantly trying to lose weight)… but my ears were now pointed, my hair was straight (straighter than me, in any case), waist length and Firetruck red, my eyes were light silver and seemed to give a slight glow in the light… my skin was still 'I wanna be a vampire' white though. Only my ears, eyes, and hair had change. I still had my tattoos too.
On my right wrist rested a blue four-leaf clover. On the same arm was an infinity sign that was double layered and tribal in nature. On my left arm was a Treble Cleft. If those remained, I could only assume the swirling Black and Purple Heart on my back remained too.
She looked me over, "You do not look or act like one of the people."
"I am not. Putting it simply, where I'm from, there is no Magic, Elves, Qunari, or Andrastian Faith. I only know of those things due to… unusual circumstance… I uh… I know one thing that may help here?"
She looked curious. So I said it, knowing it was a phrase between followers of Mythal and Fen'Harel, "Ar-melana dirthavaren; Revas vir-anaris. Please take care of me?"
She laughed, "Did the old wolf send you girl?"
I shook my head, "As far as I know, he is unaware of me."
"Well, for someone born in a magic-less land, you seem to have strong magics. At least what I can feel from you. And you're an elf too. You may have come through the tear in the veil that I mended not long ago… but if so, why did you not land by me? Hmmm…" Flemeth seemed to contemplate. She decided, "I will take you in for the moment."
Suddenly she looked to the east. "I must go," I nodded. "Save the Wardens then. We will talk later. I hope."
And with that she turned into a purple black dragon and rushed off.