Trigger Warning: Violence, swears/slurs, rape, racism, fantasy violence, torture, death, ect.
You have been warned.
She feels sick. Inside and out everything is twisted and wrong. The fade is green, sickly with brown patches. An eerie piercing scream is in the distance. A heavy presence is pushing at her core but she ignores it.
Staring at the ground, the teen notices that the grass looks more like glass. A soft sound like glass shattering echoes around and she feels more pressure behind her eyes. Arinda squeezes them shut and covers her ears as the force seems to double. As if gravity is pushing at all directions trying to squish her.
A sensation like swimming deep in water, her ears pop and then a cold hand touches her cheek. The fingers wipe tenderly at her flesh. Slowly, she looks up and sees something in front of her. Deep black eyes stare back at her. It takes a moment before she gasps and backs away. Arinda ends up on her back as she stares at Natal. Or something pretending to be him.
Breathing heavily, the girl watches it tilt its head. There are no whites in the eyes. The longer she stares, the more things fall into place. The appearance is similar to Natal, but there are differences. The hair is longer, reaching to their hip. The eyes, for one, are a big difference. The ears, while pointed, are shorter, almost human, only with a curved tip. The skin is a pale blue, like someone who was out in the cold for too long.
"Why do you cry?" The whispery voice causes her to shiver.
The being is wrapped in rags, or a torn robe. It looks perfect but at the same time so very wrong.
Her eyes remain on it for too long and it steps closer. One hand reaching out. There is a blinding flash and suddenly yellow light flares in front. "Begone, Despair!" Hope's voice is sharp, her being is more solid now, less light and more outlines.
Soft laughter, hoarse and yet resonating around. "I was called here." The demon shifts, again cocking its head, attention back on the teen while its finger points. "By her."
Arinda feels weak. "You don't have to cry. I am here. I can take it all away." Stepping closer to her, the demon's voice is delicate, almost caring. "All the pain… and fear." It almost seems to speak in her head. She feels so cold and tired. However, heat fills her startlingly fast. It burns and she sees Hope is gripping her arm tightly.
"Do not give in, Traveler. Your family is waiting for you, your friends. Do not give in to despair." Hissing, the spirit is almost pleading. It takes great effort to look away from the darkness and turn to her friend. "I care about you, too. I do not wish to lose you." Another hand touches her cheek and suddenly it is like she can breathe. It feels as if her body is frozen, her very being. Ice in her veins. "I will be here when you need me."
Hope gets brighter until the point she has to close her eyes. There is a softness against her, a loving embrace.
The whole estate feels it, a daunting aura of desperation and woe. The ones who know the girl, and even those who don't. The servants feel pity and righteous anger. In the larger bed, the female looks small, her tan skin pale and the veins more pronounced.
There are moments when she wakes, frantic and restless, her eyes open and unseeing. Zevran and Morrigan are the people who opt to stay with the young elf the most. For once, neither speak, no witty or sarcastic remarks. It is the first time the Antivan has seen the witch with such an expression. Her gold eyes flickering between fury and pain.
Morrigan cools the water and wipes at the sweat gathering on Arinda's face. Both feel a deep, almost possessive emotion for her, seeing the youngest as a pseudo sister. It breaks their hearts watching her being healed. She woke up in spurts during and after in pain. It was like all the potions to numb or alleviate did nothing. They will never forget when she was thrashing about sobbing and crying out 'Let me go! Please, I want my dad, I am sorry. I want my dad!'
It has been a little over a week and thankfully it seems that she is healing better, muttering and turning, but not in obvious pain like before.
Zevran was dozing, in and out when he heard shifting. It took some effort, but he sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A jolt of wary happiness bubbles up as he sees Arinda blinking her eyes open. The girl stares up at the ceiling without doing much. Looking blank.
Slowly, the short male stands and backs up, carefully he opens the door, wincing as it squeaks. The teen doesn't seem to acknowledge it, or anything else. Peeking out of the room he catches a servant's eyes. The small teen rushes over, her brown eyes earnest. "Is she awake?" Her voice is soft, a gentle accent he doesn't care to place.
Nodding at her question, he motions his head. "Would you grab Wynne please?" The female doesn't respond but runs off quickly. Shutting the door, he walks back over, but stops to wake the witch up. Morrigan sits up instantly, her eyes alert and aware.
The gold eyes flicker over and she is instantly up almost fussing over the teen. Her voice is low, face tense. Arinda's eyes remain staring up but there are a few moments where her eyes cloud over only to clear.
A few minutes pass and the older mage stumbles in. It is almost amusing to see her in disarray, hair not in her usual severe bun, the silver strands fall down her back mused. She seems to be in her sleep clothes yet her expression is wide awake. Wynne turns to both, and each have a silent interaction before finally, both stubborn people are forced out of the room.
A heaviness is prominent in her gut. She has no idea if it is an injury or her emotions are all gathered in one spot. A light murmur continues, almost like a fly buzzing around her. Arinda remains blinking a few more times, not focused on anything in particular.
A gentle touch on her head snaps her into focus. Tensing her muscles, the teen holds her breath and glares at the hand. Following the thin wrist she sees someone other than who she expects. Her brows dip and she tries to speak. Instantly, her throat rejects this and she coughs, it grows worse. The hand is holding her head up and something touches her lips. Trusting Wynne, she sips it and is thankful to taste water with a dash of Elfroot.
Knowing not to gulp the whole tankard, she takes a few more much needed mouthfuls and allows herself to be lowered back to the bed. Blinking away the fuzziness, her eyes flicker back to the older woman. She stares for a few short minutes before finally trying again. "Where… are we?" Her words crack, barely more than a whisper, but they get out.
The woman's soft eyes scan over her body for a bit. She eventually sits on one of the chairs and folds her hands on her lap. Silence follows.
Arinda watches the woman and after a moment sighs. "Just… get it over with." Holding back a cough, she attempts to sit herself up. Instantly, pain shoots up her body. Everything below her neck arches, a tightness follows with it.
The mage tries to help but the elf waves her off. She knows her body, while it hurts, and she is injured. It is on its way to healing, she won't hurt herself more by moving in the bed. Taking a deep breath, she shifts again and drags her body up to lean partially back against the headboard. There is a constant sting between her legs but she concentrates on everything else.
"I have managed to heal everything to the best of my ability. We left the rest to your own body to fix. Your broken ribs were mended, along with the soft tissue on your chest." She pauses at this only to frown, her lips pursing "Your skull was fractured, I healed your brain first and gave you a few potions to help with swelling and infection."
There is another long pause.
Arinda cracks a smile though her voice comes out impassive. "You are leaving the most important bit out."
Wynne grimaces. "Your…" Her voice fails her and the teen sees her lip tremble. "Your uterus was damaged almost beyond repair. The walls inside your vagina have scarring and you will never-" Again she stops. It looks as if she will reach out but thinks better of it and stops. "You will never be able to give birth to children. Or get pregnant."
For a few moments nothing happened. Arinda stares, her eyes searching the woman. Finally, she speaks up. "I am already infertile Wynne, the joining rarely allows anyone to procreate." It seems empty, like she is lacking or forgetting something.
Arinda shakes her head and moves again. "Do you have another healing potion?" The tightness surrounding her body is no doubt the fact she hasn't moved for a bit and its new skin. With her awake now and with the potion, she should be able to heal faster and more efficiently.
Touching her shoulder, the older woman frowns. "You can't move! It hasn't been long and your injuries were severe."
She shakes her hand off and snarls. "Don't touch me!" Magic swells around her, however only a light shock hits the woman. Nothing that causes damage but a warning. Quickly, Wynne backs off, but she remains close with a grim look. "We have already wasted days while I heal. We need to finish this whole Landsmeet thing, don't we?" Arinda manages to climb out of bed. Standing up, her vision swims, but she remains stubbornly upright.
Clenching her hands tight, she looks down and instantly hates the creme colored nightgown. "I want pants and a shirt." The words are spoken harshly. She feels her skin crawl with how exposed it is. Gripping her own arms, the teen digs her nails into her flesh and tries to focus on breathing.
She seems to dissociate as the next thing she knows, clothing is being held out to her. The person is also different. Seeing the pale skin, dark hair and gold eyes brings her a smidge of comfort. Letting out a breath, Arinda takes the clothes and thanks her. The woman nods and moves out of the room. "Inform me when you finish." Her voice does not waver nor crack. It sounds close to her usual unconcerned drawl. Even though her eyes show something different.
The door closes and she sits on the bed. Staring at her clothes with confusion for a solid minute. Eventually she drops them to the bed and walks over to the bowl of water. Stripping, she carefully unravels the wrappings from her body and grabs the cloth and dips it in the lukewarm water. Wiping her body down, she grimaces at the new scars.
Once done, she uses some magic to heal herself a bit more. Getting woozy, the teen stops and finishes getting dressed. It is of softer material than usual, not scratching against her healing wounds. Standing in the middle of the room, she eventually settles herself on the bed and calls out for Morrigan.
The woman knocks and then walks in. She holds a tray and sets it on the table by the bed. "I have another potion for you, along with some frumenty and fruits mixed in. You haven't eaten for a week." Arinda reaches over and grabs the bowl of food. Staring at it, the younger is thankful that despite not feeling hungry, she doesn't feel sick. A few bites in, she can tell that the fruit is good, juicy, but she can't taste it. It all tastes dull, barely flavored. Reaching out, she grabs the potion and downs it. There is a hint of herbs and a grassiness to it, but even that is diluted to her. Another cup shows water and she tentatively drinks that while eating the food.
"As you have slept we have all spoken about what to do next." This has her sitting up straighter. She continues eating when Morrigan gives her a look. "The Queen informed us of unrest in every aspect of this city." She sneers at the word. Her gold eyes alight with annoyance and scorn. "The elves seem to be going missing among other things, the nobles are at a loss, unsure if they wish to follow Loghain or shove their heads in dirt and hope the Blight ignores them."
A dry smile slips to her face at the sarcasm coming from the elder. Finishing the last bite, she drinks the water and sets it aside. "Elondo, Zevran and I should head to the Alienage. The elves will be more likely to approach us. Leliana and Ryan could take some of you to speak with nobles, they both know how to get what they want. Or at least force neutrality."
There is a split second where Morrigan's face goes sad, but she hides it quickly. "Tis a clever plan. You will have to argue with the others." She doesn't need to say more.
"The others can kiss my ass, what's done is done. There is a war out there that won't stop just because I got… hurt." Standing up she bites at her lip as her stomach rolls. Not quite nausea, but close. "Take me to them." She doesn't quite demand but it is a statement.
Morrigan stands herself, eyes flicking over her form. She nods and the two head out.
The eyes of servants are on her and it makes her skin crawl. She wants to stand tall and act as if nothing bothers her but the thought fills her with fear, it would leave her vulnerable. Instead she stands close to Morrigan, kicking herself for not grabbing a knife before leaving the room. She still has magic. (It didn't save her last time though, did it?)
Clenching her jaw, she stops lest she run into the other witch. Finding herself in a larger room, the teen has to acknowledge that she once again zoned out. Wetting her lips, she looks around the room and sees everyone.
Looking down at the table, Arinda sees a map. Scooting closer, she catches a few names on it, nobles by the looks of it. A few names she recognizes.
Stepping back, her eyes snap up when she hears footsteps come closer. Zevran's hazel eyes are wide, face wiped of his usual smirk and lascivious grin. The short man stops a few feet away, his eyes all but penetrating her soul. "I am glad you are awake." His voice is stilted, unsure.
Her own gaze looks around before settling back on him. Unsure how to respond, she merely dips her head in a nod. There is a tense silence where she turns and looks at Ryan. His face is drawn, eyes heavy. Shuffling over to him, she looks back to the map before stopping near him. "I heard you have a plan in the making." There is a thickness in her tone, forcing her to clear her throat as she continues. "The best bet would be to have Zevran, Elondo, and I head to the elves to get everything fixed."
His expression swiftly shifts to outrage. "No! You just… You need to rest! Not go on a mission when we have no idea what is even happening."
Closing off her expression, she carefully shifts her weight, just in case. Her nails dig into her palm and she takes in a breath, breathing it out. "We need to do this. People get hurt all the time. Don't… Don't make this a big deal. I am healed, I'm able to fight and do my job." She spits out the last bit. "My job as a Grey Warden is to put my life on the line to protect and fight for the people of Thedas. So get over your guilt. I choose if I want to fight, not you." She gains some strength, feels a bit of her spirit come back.
Arinda stands taller and finally looks the man in the eye. "Do your job and I will do mine." Turning she catches Zevran's eyes, doing the same to Elondo only to frown when he looks away quickly. She ignores it. "Let's go." No one tries to stop her.
She absentmindedly runs her fingers over the top of Ash's head, the short fur texture calming her. The girl has on a layer of leather which holds two small knives. On top of that, she has on casual clothes. Zevran has a shirt that is cinched at the waist, thin knives tucked in it. The other mage of the group still has on robes, but less noticeable ones of tan and green.
Getting into the Alienage is laughably easy. She has gotten so used to the cleanliness of her own Alienage in Kirkwall that she feels all but shocked at how much this place is falling apart. Some of the places are held together by rope and mud. The scent of feces is overwhelming. Scrunching her nose up, she glances over at the other two. Zevran keeps his gate and face relaxed, though he does bow his head a bit. Elondo seems to be white-faced and tense.
They walk further in but don't see many elves. Ash barks and Arinda turns, catching the hand of a young girl with grey blue eyes. They widen as her hand is gripped harder. "Oh shite." She whispers to herself. Glancing at where the hand is going, pockets, she raises a brow. "Look here, this ain't what it looks like- well it is. But you all look healthy enough, yeah?"
Giving a blank look she searches over the girl. She looks young, around her own age with straw blond hair, which is long and tangled.
Arinda rolls her eyes and pulls out a few coppers and hands them over. "Either get better at pickpocketing or stop." With that said, she turns and continues walking. She hears what sounds like the other kid blowing raspberries at her and sighs.
It doesn't take long, the further they go in the more noise they hear. Finally, they see a large group of elves milling about in front of one of the larger buildings. Narrowing her eyes, she tilts her head towards it and Zevran nods. They start to move but are stopped by a redheaded female. "You shouldn't be here. It is dangerous, this place is a lie!" Her words are fast and angry. Glancing back at the area, then to the smaller group.
Her eyes flicker over them only to widen when she catches sight of Arinda. She steps closer and stares at her. "You- You are the one who saved him. My cousin, Soris, was in the dungeon." These words have Arinda's stomach drop, she chews on her lip and tries to focus on the scents around her. Bood, vomit, and stale water.
She blinks at the elf and nods stiffly. "Yes."
Looking over all three of them plus the dog, she relaxes. "My name is Shianni, thank you for rescuing him. We thought he was killed." She starts to wring her hands, they flutter around and touch her stomach only to drop them. "We lost too many, I thought I lost them both." She looks down and whispers the last part. "What are you doing here?" Her head tilts.
Arinda nods at the building. Puts her focus on her job. "We heard there was something suspicious going on here. There is already too much unrest, death and worse happening. We need to settle everything that can be settled."
"Would you be as kind as to tell us what is happening?" Zevran speaks up.
Looking around Shianni waves them to a more secluded place. "Not too long ago we got hit with a mild cold. It's something that comes and goes with the seasons. But suddenly these… men showed up." The redhead speaks the word 'men' with disgust. "They spoke about a plague, some sickness, and suddenly our people started disappearing. Not that they aren't throwing themselves at them." Anger leaks into her voice.
"Every man, woman, and child that has gone in the past two weeks has not come out. I just know they are lying!"
Humming, the teen shifts and nods. "That is what we suspect. Is there any way for you to get some of your people away from this area? Just in case a fight breaks out. I don't want any of them to be caught in the crossfire."
They stare at each other before the elder nods. "Not all of them believe me. But my uncle still has some weight with the lot. Now that our Hahren is gone too." Shianni sighs and looks back. "Give me a few minutes and then move fast, please."
Leaning against one of the walls, the four wait for the group to disperse a bit. A few minutes pass and she watches an older elf with dark grey hair make his way towards the other elves. Turning her attention to the others, she hums. "I don't really know what to expect on the inside. But if I had to guess, some kind of experiment or slave trade."
"I wouldn't be surprised. Looking at the people guarding the door, their clothing looks Tevinter. Not to mention the obvious staff one of them has strapped to their back. I never understood how mages run around wearing robes and with a mage staff and then wonder why they get recognized as mages…" Zevran states, brows furrowed, but with a small smile.
Snickering at this, she shakes her head. "I don't know, ask a mage."
"Aren't you a mage?"
Showing a fake look of displeasure, the younger one shakes her head. "No, that would make me an unregistered apostate and those are bad." Her words are laced with sarcasm.
Zevran smirks. "Ah yes, forgive me. The lighting and occasional fire I see are merely a figment of my imagination. Or perhaps it is because you sparkle so beautifully that your fierce soul shows fire and sparks at certain instances."
She feels something lift off her body. An odd lightness. It doesn't last as Elondo snaps at the two, "Can you both shut up? Look, the group is starting to leave. We need to move now." He bumps shoulders with Zevran and walks past the two.
Looking to Zevran, she frowns at him, but he seems just as confused as her.
The two follow after the male but get stopped as soon as they get close to the place. "Wait- Miss. You! Yes you." She turns sharply and moves out of the way as one of the men by the door tries to touch her shoulder. She narrows her eyes but doesn't look right at him. Instead, she stares at his neck and chest area.
Hunkering in on herself, the teen swallows the instant feel of bile crawling up her throat. Using the way she curls into herself, she stutters, "Yes? Do you- need something?"
Faintly, she can see the man smile, his peppery black and grey beard no doubt giving him a grandfatherly look. "I don't mean to alarm you, but your pallor… I am afraid that you may have caught the sickness that has been traveling around."
Sucking in a breath she looks up slowly but squints "Sickness? But… I haven't been here long." Her voice trails off, she pushes in to make her sound unsure.
"This particular sickness is fast and airborne. We have managed to keep it local but we weren't fast enough." He tries to sound forlorn but there is a giddiness in his tone. "Your eyes seem to be milky too, I am sorry. You most definitely have contracted it, I want to take you in quickly. We may still have time to heal you." He looks up and over her shoulder. "Luck seems to be on your side. Your two companions seem healthy. We will fix you up and have you out in no time, I promise."
She tenses at the thought of going in alone. There is no doubt a group of other people inside. Before she would not hesitate, knowing her magic and her fighting ability could get her through. Could it, though? She forces these weak thoughts away. It is unlikely any of the people inside will have templar abilities. If these are mages from Tevinter they would not want someone with the ability to stop them close.
Arinda nods. "Okay, let me… say goodbye to them first." She turns and walks over. Hesitating for a moment she hugs Zevran, her whole body tense and stiff. "Walk away and sneak around back. You could sneak in while I take care of the people in the front." The girl feels him nod and she swiftly moves away, her skin itching at the close proximity.
Moving away, the brunet follows after the male. He opens the door and calls in, "We have another… patient." His voice dips into something more amused.
Two men in leather armor walk her towards a man who is sitting down. He asks for her name and she says 'Rey' with no last name. She is led towards a back door, a hand is put on her shoulder as they walk through and this is when she strikes. Grabbing the wrist, she uses her other hand and yanks out the knife from her shirt. The girl twists while still holding the other's arm. Moving behind him, she kicks his knees, causing him to fall, and stabs in his neck.
She shoves him towards the other guard, who automatically tries to catch his companion, yelling as he does so. Arinda uses the dead man as a stepping stone and knees the other in the face while pushing him to the ground. Her knife comes down harder and crunches through bone in his skull. Turning as the door opens, she yanks violently, the knife comes out and blood splatters on her face. The warm wet liquid gives her pause. For a fraction of a second, she hears a voice, too soft to make out words.
Shaking her head, Arinda throws her hands out and creates a cone of fire. Screams start up and the smell of burning flesh permeates the room. As the sounds stop, she shakes her hands out and rushes forward through the door again, jumping over the dead bodies and rolling. A blade misses her shoulder.
Sliding her knife out, the blade manages to catch an arm, between leather and metal. It causes the man to drop his weapon. She sees that it is the person who was taking names. Blinking at him with a dull look, she watches his eyes widen in fear. A dark part of her relishes as she drags her weapon against his neck, watching red liquid pool and drip from the wound, him gagging and gasping.
The voice comes back, a whisper and hum. It promises something but she still can't understand.
Her distraction almost costs her. Turning, she sees an archer aiming at her. Thankfully, he is cut down and Zevran comes up behind him as he falls. His hazel eyes glance around before settling on her with concern.
Arinda wipes at her face quickly and steps over him. "The man was taking names and writing down numbers." Walking over she grabs the parchment. "My bet is on slavers."
Nodding, he lets her actions go for the moment. "We killed the people guarding the back. There is an area through the back with another door we should probably check out. We found a cage filled with… people." An expression of anger follows. "Not all of them were alive. I think… I think some of them were actually sick." Arinda pauses and looks down.
Putting her knife away, she grabs the dead man's bow. "This area seems to be filled with disease. Perhaps after the war we can help them rebuild a better home." They can't really do much else. Zevran nods and they head out through the area.
