"Mama! Melian is sick again!" Farill calls out. Melian hears him, but doesn't really care if Mama knows or not. She goes for the rag pile to stem the bleeding from her nose. As always.

I'm eight years old and can take care of myself! She thinks, putting pressure to seal off the flow.

"Melian! Are you alright?" Mama asks. Melian nods and presses the rag harder against her nose. Her stomach twists painfully.

"I'll live." She says, using Farill's favorite phrase whenever he gets a scrape or bruise.

"I'm sure you will. Go lie down for a minute and I'll get the healer."

Melian knows the drill. She sits on her little bedroll by the fireplace, her back against the rough stones of it's side.

There is no fire now, since it's summer, and the stone holds some of the cold from last night. The cold helps stop the blood.

Farill grabs a slice of bread from the basket on the table and heads back out to play some more, his duty as older brother fulfilled, leaving Melian alone.

Nosebleeds are common thing. They happen at least every other day for Melian.

She sighs and stares at the rafters for a while, waiting for the healer to come and extract whatever it is that is poisoning her this time.

A warm summer breeze brushes against her cheeks through the open door.

She catches a quick whiff of the sea before the stink of the foundries shoves it back into obscurity.

"Melian? Let me see what I can do for you, child." The healer kneels in front of her and carefully removes the rag.

She takes a premade oil that she makes special for nosebleeds and pours it on another rag.

"No cinnamon. Not even a little." She says, offering the rag.

Melian nods. She knows the routine.

No cinnamon in the summer, no milk in the winter. No bread, no fish. Just fruit and vegetables and occasional meat. I can't eat anything!

"Stop pouting, Melian!" Mama scolds. "It's not polite."

"Sorry Mama." She relaxes her face.

"What did you eat this time?" The healer asks.

"I ate some of Farill's cupcakes." She whispers, her eyes glancing up at Mama.

"Does Farill know this?" Mama asks.

"No."

"You will do his chores for three days. Those cupcakes were a special birthday gift."

"Yes Mama."

"You'll apologize to your brother."

"Yes Mama."

"I'll get you some peppermint root and lavender for your stomach." The healer reaches into her bag.

Melian takes the herbs and grimaces at the thought of standing up to ready them. Mama reaches down and takes them gently from her hand and turns to the task.

The healer leaves and Melian lies down and watches the empty wall while she waits for her stomach to settle.

Mama brings Farill in later.

"Melian, is there anything you'd like to say to your brother?" Mama asks.

"I'm sorry, Farill. I stole some of your cupcakes. They just looked so good! And I knew you wouldn't give me any if I asked. It's just that any treat is really rare and I can never have any because everything makes me sick. I thought maybe one or two wouldn't hurt though. I thought as long as I didn't gorge myself, I'd be fine." She didn't really feel sorry for anyone but herself right now. She stares Farill in the eyes and dares him to laugh at her.

"Melian! When you do something wrong and you apologize for it, you do not justify why you did it. An apology is an apology. Nothing more." Mama admonishes. "Try again."

"I'm sorry for stealing your cupcakes, Farill. It was wrong of me." She doesn't really have the energy to argue with Mama right now. She just wants to curl up and sleep, even though she rose with the sun a few hours ago.

"I forgive you, Melian. I would have given you a little bite if you had asked me. A little bite might not have hurt so much." He says, sitting beside her. He rubs her shoulder, trying to ease her pain a bit. It doesn't really work, but she knows it makes him feel like a good older brother, so she lets him do it anyway.

"Is there anything else you'd like to say, Melian?" Mama prompts.

"I'll make it up to you by doing your chores for three days." She winces through a sudden tight ball of a cramp in her stomach.

"Alright. Whatever you say." He says.

"Good, then that's settled." Mama leaves the two of them to cut vegetables for tonight's dinner.

Farill says something, but Melian doesn't really hear him. Her mind is swimming with cloudiness thicker than the smog by the docks in the morning. And it doesn't help that he's whispering all of a sudden.

"Huh?" She asks, her eyes closed.

"I said: I found a really cool place in Hightown the other day with Jack and Kelly. Want to check it out when you're feeling better?"

"I thought we weren't allowed in Hightown. What if we get caught?"

"We won't. We've found a foolproof way in."

"Sure." She doesn't even remember what she's agreeing to.

Farill keeps talking, but she drifts off, completely unable to think anymore.

A/N Thank you for your interest in my story! I want to say this is my first attempt at writing Dragon Age fanfiction. That being said, I did research Elven names when naming my characters. Farill is a male Elven name from the DA world. Melian is actually a Sindarin female Elven name, but it's used here because it's DA universe equivalent for translation (freedom) is Revas, and I couldn't figure out if the vocabulary word could be formed into a name (I did look it up and tried to find it). I may write an in story explanation if I can come up with one.

Edit: A note here on Melian's "food sickness". She's intolerant, not allergic. She gets sick, but likely will not die from what she eats alone. She's intolerant to wheat and shellfish. Not normal fish. I have two food intolerances in real life, but they are not the same as hers. Most of what I write about her intolerances I get from online information about them. If I get anything wrong, please don't hesitate to tell me. I will fix it! Thanks! :)