The Vagrant
By Pyreite
Sequel to: The Trickster Returns
Chapter 6 – The Heir of Mythal
Warning: Contains temporary amnesia, the regrowing of a severed limb, sentinel elves, and a life-changing realisation.
Ellana awoke with a groan. The hut was quiet, though she heard the startled gasp of someone already awake. Her eyelids fluttered. Her brows furrowed. Ellana rubbed her aching temples.
It hurt to think. Her brain was aflame. Waking from her wanderings in the Setheneran, always gave her a throbbing headache. This one felt worse than usual.
Ellana opened an eye.
The world was blurry. The brightness of daylight, after hours of sleep, was almost unbearable. Ellana coughed. Her throat was parched. Her tongue drier than sun-baked stone.
She needed water.
Ellana started when the rim of a cup was pressed to her lips. She jerked at the contact, more surprised than alarmed. She tried to turn her face away, but a hand slid behind her head. Calloused fingers curled around the nape of her neck whilst a thumb grazed her cheek.
"Drink", instructed a gentle voice.
Ellana was too groggy to identify the speaker, though she thought it might be a friend. Her chapped lips parted. Her tongue darted out to taste the contents of the cup. It was bland, but ice-cold, and tasted of crushed elfroot. Ellana was too thirsty to care if it was water or mulled wine.
She opened her mouth, complying with the request. She gagged on the first mouthful, her throat too tight and dry to swallow. Water dribbled down her chin. She coughed, chest heaving. Ellana panicked when the cup was withdrawn.
"Nae!" she croaked.
Ellana lunged forward in desperation. Her fingers locked around the person's wrist. She hung on, forcibly redirecting their hand. She opened her mouth again, lips closing around the rim of the cup. She tipped her head back, slurping greedily as she drained it dry.
"Ma halam?"
Ellana nodded though she refused to release them. The voice was unfamiliar even if they spoke the same language. All elves and the spirits they interacted with knew Elvhen. Ellana blinked blearily as her eyes adjusted to the light. Her vision cleared and a face emerged decorated with vallaslin.
Ellana was more curious than afraid.
His markings were beautiful.
Ellana recognised the twining lines arching over his brows. She followed the pattern that flowed in a path of green along his temples. It curved beneath his eyes and ended upon his cheeks in a sharp point with three prongs. Ellana was reminded of the roots of a great tree. The double band upon the bridge of his nose was the trunk.
The plethora of twisting lines upon his forehead were its branches.
"You're an acolyte of Mythal", croaked Ellana.
Her voice was hoarse. Her throat still dry. The cup of water had wetted her appetite, but hadn't filled the gaping chasm in her stomach. Ellana blushed when her belly rumbled. She was hungry.
"I am", he confirmed.
Ellana was intrigued by the way he stared. The glinting of his amber eyes reminded her of an eagle surveying the land beneath its eyrie. He was handsome for an elven man, with a smooth brow, straight nose, and high cheekbones. His face was angular with hard edges, the squareness of his jaw gave him an air of confidence. The severe line of his mouth would soften, thought Ellana, if he were kissed.
She tittered at the thought. Water and food would serve her better. Her thirst would be quenched and her hunger satisfied. Ellana would have asked for both if a disappointed sigh hadn't stopped her cold. Mythal's acolyte pouted.
He looked so unhappy.
Ellana released his wrist. Her brows arched in sympathy when she touched his face. Her fingers curled around the swell of his cheek. Her palm cupped his jaw. He trembled like a frightened mouse.
Ellana saw the fear etched into every line of his fair elven face. The way he watched her, full of apprehension, made Ellana feel protective. She wanted to reassure him of her intentions. She did not mean him harm. Ellana smiled kindly.
"It's all right. You don't need to be afraid".
"Do I not?" he countered. "You are changed".
"Changed", repeated Ellana.
Her furrowing brows revealed her confusion. She did not understand the nature of his remark. She was whole of mind and body as far as she knew. A glance downward made her aware of something unusual. Ellana examined her left arm.
It was bare to the skin, but silver-white as if it were made of steel rather than flesh, blood, and bone.
Ellana turned her wrist. She studied the fine overlapping scales upon her skin. The slight iridescence, like mother of pearl, reminded Ellana of a fish in a suit of mail. She looked at her palm and the five splayed fingers. She saw the mottled silver-grey scales covering every inch of naked skin.
Ellana flipped her hand over. She noticed the scales were larger, longer, and thicker than those on the underside. The hue was darker, more of a silver-blue tone than white. She saw faint banding, akin to the thick stripes on the hind-quarters of a bull Hart. Ellana flexed her knuckles, fingers bending.
She was unperturbed by the pointed tips of her nails.
"How odd", said Ellana when she saw the black talons. "I have claws".
"Do you not find it strange?" asked Mythal's acolyte.
Ellana thought his comment was stranger than her having claws. She shrugged her shoulders. Her nonchalance startled him. He gaped when she replied. He was confounded by her sincerity too.
"Why would I?", countered Ellana. "It's my arm. It would be silly to be afraid of it".
The incredulous expression upon his face made her frown. He must have thought her worse than foolish. Ellana rolled her eyes. Men in her experience too often thought women lacked enough wits to be intelligent. Ellana wondered if this man, with his pointed ears and vallaslin, was just as bigoted as the rest of his gender.
The way she glared provoked a reaction.
Ellana was surprised when he reddened. The heat in his cheeks coupled with the way he lowered his eyes showed his embarrassment. He avoided looking at her as if he were ashamed. Ellana was reminded of a child dreading the reprimand of an irritable parent. She hadn't meant to make him nervous.
"Ir abelas", he apologised. "I did not mean to cause offence".
"Well", declared Ellana. "I'm not offended, just thirsty, hungry, and confused".
"You are not offended", reiterated Mythal's acolyte. "That is unexpected".
He seemed unnerved by the lack of anger in her voice. He had braced himself, thought Ellana, for the lash of her displeasure. She did not like the idea one bit. She was not a violent woman by nature, unless someone invited that kind of retaliation. Ellana had survived assassins, brigands, and bounty hunters.
Her head would once have fetched a hefty price in Tevinter.
"I would like a decent meal and more water", implored Ellana. "If you would be so kind".
She bit her lip when her friend hesitated. He seemed reluctant to leave her alone. Ellana's empty stomach voiced its dissatisfaction. The hungry rumbling was louder than a croaking bullfrog. Ellana's cheeks flushed a rich rosy-red.
"Please!" she begged.
Ellana snorted when her friend chuckled. Her belly's insistent grumbling for nourishment had made her less intimidating. He had lost his fear of her in a heartbeat. Ellana was more annoyed than amused when he turned his face into the palm of her hand. The delicate brush of his lips on her skin made her shiver.
The roguish glint in his golden eyes suggested that he knew her well.
Ellana wondered just how well.
She would have scolded him for taking liberties with her person if she hadn't been distracted. A memory opened like a book inside her mind's eye. The pages turned, flicking fast, but she caught glimpses of the things between. There were no words, only images laden with meaning. Ellana gasped when she saw, heard, and felt several intimate things.
The fevered undulation of two sweat-slicked bodies. The breathless moan of a woman in the throes of passion. The strain of slender legs locked around broad hips. The groan of an elven man reaching his peak. The cresting of their shared pleasure before satiation.
The memory left little to the imagination.
Ellana had seen herself and her friend during coitus.
A smug smirk confirmed his suspicions.
"You remember us being together".
Ellana blushed to the tips of her pointed ears. She was pink-cheeked with mortification. She didn't say a word, though the crinkling of his eyes showed how pleased he was. Ellana knew what he looked like after an exhausting session of lovemaking. The complacent bastard was gorgeous when naked, tired, and sweaty.
"I am glad", he said in relief.
Ellana had often enjoyed playing with his damp silver hair afterwards. She was contemplating just that when he leaned inward. She stilled when he kissed her. The touch of his lips upon her own was like the brush of a butterfly's wings. Feather-light and feather-soft, but filled with the tenderness of a man very much in love.
His mouth had softened, realised Ellana, when he'd been kissed.
Her lover was not a complete hard-ass after all.
Ellana had not protested the gesture of affection. She was comfortable with his forwardness. His actions had felt oddly right, as if he belonged inside the circle of her arms. Ellana bit her lip when he smiled again. He was too tempting a morsel and he knew it.
Her vexation made him laugh.
"Ass", griped Ellana. "I don't even know your name".
"You will ma vhenan", he assured her.
Ellana peered into his face, an earnest question in her eyes. The term of endearment made her wonder if they were more than lovers. She knew that marriage was permitted for the acolyte's of Mythal. Their spouses, however, were usually acolytes themselves. Ellana doubted she would fit the role of devotee to Mythal.
She enjoyed her freedom too much to accept a life of indentured servitude.
Ellana was disappointed when her lover shook his head. She had hoped that they shared a permanent spousal bond regardless of her lack of ties to Mythal. Ellana pouted. The downturn of her mouth revealed her unhappiness. The lack of familial stability in her life was too upsetting.
"I would wed you vhenan", avowed her lover. "But you are not ready for such commitment".
Ellana sighed when he kissed her temple. His touch was gentle as he withdrew. His reassuring smile did little to ease her anxiety. He had told her the truth though it was hard to hear. Ellana was relieved when he left her side.
His absence gave her time to think.
She watched him leave. He was akin to the Halla. Light and graceful on his feet. Every step had purpose. Every movement was focused as he approached the door.
He opened it, quiet as a mouse, and slipped outside.
The door shut behind him. It was made of ironbark, stiff as bone, and stronger than steel. The walls of the hut were the same. The rafters were constructed from intersecting wooden beams fixed with iron nails. The roof was fashioned from ironbark too rather than thatch or stone.
Ellana had not forgotten her Dalish roots.
She frowned as she looked around the room. Her bedroll was made of suede stuffed with wool, down, and the fibres from flax fronds. She remembered preparing the bedding herself. It was strange, thought Ellana, to know so much and to recall so little. Her mind was sluggish as if she'd slept for years instead of hours.
Ellana rubbed her temples. The worst of the headache had receded, though she still felt a dull throbbing behind her eyes. It was bearable. The water she'd drunk had been laced with the juice of crushed elfroot. An excellent remedy for relieving minor aches and pains. Ellana rolled her stiff neck and shoulders to work out the kinks of being abed.
"I wonder how long I slept?" she mused aloud.
She caught the edge of the thick bear pelt she'd used as a blanket. Ellana stared at her right hand. The skin was brown from exposure to the sun. The fingers were strong and calloused. Her hand appeared fairly ordinary with its crescent-shaped nails.
Ellana inhaled shakily.
Something wasn't right.
Ellana slipped her left hand free of the pelt. She placed it beside her right upon the slick fur. She glanced between her hands. The right was normal. The left was not.
Silver-white scales and black talons replaced tanned skin and blunt nails.
Ellana flicked back her fur blanket. She scrambled from her bed, bare toes sliding across the hardwood floor. She rushed across the room, near tripping over the low-table beside the hearth. A fire burned in the stone grate. Ellana saw the cup Minaeve had left there. It was dry as a bone, but the smell of the sleeping draught she'd drunk lingered.
The memories returned, tumbling over each other, like water coursing through rapids.
Ellana saw images from her past.
A glowing green mark burned into the palm of her left hand. The twisted shape of a darkspawn magister. An open unblinking eye with lashes like rays of sunlight. A stone fortress, on a hillside, surrounded by snowcapped mountains. The ardent kiss of an elven mage, with shining grey eyes, and a smile full of melancholy.
Ellana knew each piece of the puzzle.
Her life, as the Inquisitor, had been a constant gamble.
She had never been in control of her own fate.
The Mark had infested the flesh and bone of her left arm like a canker. Corypheus had tried to slay her to gain control of the magic capable of tearing the Veil. The Inquisition, formed to seal the Breach, had been hers to command. The fortress of Skyhold had been her home and a haven for the Inquisition's forces. Solas, an apostate mage, her friend and lover, had been Fen'Harel – The Dread Wolf in disguise.
The memories faded. Ellana exhaled shakily. Her head throbbed. She grimaced in discomfort. It hurt to think.
Moments passed.
Ellana took a deep fortifying breath. She spied something glinting in her peripheral vision. She turned, brows furrowing. She gaped at a wooden dummy garbed in armour. The belt looped around its waist bore two leather sheaths.
The harness strapped to the left shoulder was attached to a gauntlet.
Ellana was intrigued by what she saw. The dummy wore a leather bodice dyed in shades of green and brown. An overcoat with long sleeves and many pockets was rust-red. A pair of matching breeches and hose were neatly folded upon a stool. The boots, covered in straps and buckles, were underneath.
The belt and harness caught Ellana's attention.
She did not hesitate to reach for the nearest sheath. The hilt was fashioned from a curved piece of Halla-horn. Ellana wrapped her hand around it, fingers fitting into the familiar grooves. She knew this weapon intimately. She pulled the dagger free, the blade sliding clear.
"Beautiful", murmured Ellana.
She admired the runes engraved into the silverite blade. The letters, charged with lyrium, glowed an eerie electric-blue when Ellana blew on them. She smiled when the runes iced over. The Superb Frost Rune was still formidable. Ellana returned the dagger to its sheath.
She decided against reaching for its twin. The blade was enchanted with a Superb Fire Rune. Fire runes were always a little temperamental. Ellana preferred to avoid an accidental scorching. She was more interested in the harness and its matching gauntlet.
Ellana laid her left hand upon it, taloned fingers gliding over the dragon-scale straps. The pebbled texture of the leather was smooth underneath her scaled palm. She was more fascinated than alarmed by the odd contours of the gauntlet. The silverite plates were expertly riveted and welded together. The runes etched into the metal shone lyrium-blue.
The gauntlet comprised a forearm, elbow, wrist, and hand with five articulated fingers.
It was a perfect duplicate of a left arm.
A prosthetic fashioned to replace a lost limb.
Ellana glanced between the gauntlet and the hand that had grown from the stump of her left arm. She had a forearm, wrist, hand, and five fingers each capped with a single black claw. She paused when she saw her own reflection in the surface of a silverite plate. Ellana peered closer, brows furrowing, as she spied two gleaming golden eyes. She touched a hand to her face, a taloned finger gently pulled on the skin of her cheek, to expose the iris of her left eye.
A voice whispered in her thoughts.
The phrase was a repetition of the promise Flemeth had made.
You will become my last living heir.
Ellana trembled when the door opened. She heard the soft tamp of footsteps. She tensed at the clink of ceramic on wood. She smelt something hot and savoury. Her lover had returned with a meal in hand.
Her memory was still hazy, but she knew enough to know his identity.
She also knew what had happened to her.
She was no longer the same.
"I am changed", said Ellana.
Her eyes welled with tears. She had not considered the consequences of the bargain she'd made. Flemeth had promised to return her elgar'len. She had though not in the way Ellana had expected. Her voice broke.
"What have I done?"
Abelas was at her side in a heartbeat. He needed to reassure his weeping beloved. He did not hesitate to reach for her. He cupped Ellana's face in the palms of his hands. He wiped away her tears with his calloused thumbs.
"You saved two souls", Abelas reminded her.
"At what price?" asked Ellana. "Am I an abomination? A maleficar?"
Abelas's response was a fierce denial.
"Nae!"
Ellana gripped his wrists. Her left hand flexed as her taloned fingers hooked into the cuff of his robes. She shook her head in disbelief. She had been possessed, she was certain, by a fragment of something strange. Her eyes had not been gold before she'd drunk Minaeve's sleeping draught.
She was different.
"Then what am I?" demanded Ellana.
"You are my love", explained Abelas. "And you are Mythal".
"Nae", protested Ellana.
"Ma vhenan", insisted Abelas. "You know it is true".
Ellana sighed. She knew he was right. She felt the bond binding them together. It thrummed like a beating heart inside her chest. Ellana sensed that she shared that bond with many others too.
"All who drank from the Vir'abelasan are bound into the service of Mythal", said Abelas. "The voices of the Well speak clearer now than they have in centuries. I do not hear them as echoes from a great distance, Ellana. I hear them as if they were standing next to me. They say that you are Mythal and I believe them".
Ellana bit her lip. She could not deny his claim. Part of her knew he spoke the truth. Her left-arm, regrown from severed bone, flesh, and blood was proof enough. The scales and talons marked her as touched by more than magic.
She had been blessed by Mythal.
"I'm just me!", argued Ellana. "I'm an ordinary elven woman. I'm no one special. You have to believe me, Abelas. I'm not Mythal's Herald".
Abelas smiled sagaciously. He was proud and pleased. She was the embodiment of all the things he admired. Ellana was kind and compassionate as much as she was fierce, proud, and protective. She was more like Mythal than she knew.
"You are not a god-touched mouthpiece", said Abelas. "You are more".
"No I'm not!" contradicted Ellana. "Don't you dare say it!"
Abelas chuckled. "You are the Heir of Mythal".
He wheezed when Ellana jabbed him in the belly. The pain was worth the scandalised look upon her face. She was discontent with this unwelcome change in her life. The Blessing of Mythal, thought Abelas, had become Ellana's curse. She had very large shoes to fill.
"That conniving snake!" spat Ellana. "Let's strike a bargain, she says! She never said anything about being saddled with her responsibilities! Oh! I should have known that freeing Morrigan wouldn't be that simple! Josephine always told me to read the fucking fine print! I am such an idiot!"
Ellana pulled away from Abelas. She was fuming. Her arms folded across her chest. She paced back and forth before the wooden dummy. She smacked Abelas's hand when he reached for her.
"Just leave me alone! I know you lied to me, Abelas! Morrigan told me what really happened when the dragon attacked Skyhold!" snapped Ellana. "You're sleeping on the couch from tonight onwards! I will not have a liar and a sneak sleeping in my bed! You're more honourable than Solas, I agree, but you still lied to me! And you had better not have told those bastards outside that you're my consort!"
Abelas frowned. "I am your consort".
Ellana's lip curled. "You won't be again until I can find it my heart to forgive you!"
"Ellana, you are being unfair", asserted Abelas. His expression pained. He had anticipated Morrigan revealing his deception. The ruse had been necessary to gain Ellana's trust. The friendship, love, and respect that had come afterwards was sincere not a fabrication.
"Don't you Ellana me!" hissed Ellana. "And I am not being unfair!"
Abelas sighed. Her anger was justified though the result was disheartening. He loved her. Perhaps time apart would cool her ire. Abelas would give her the space she needed.
"I will do as you wish", he agreed. "For now".
Ellana scowled. "You always were stubborn".
"I learned from the best", quipped Abelas.
The corners of Ellana's mouth curled upward. She was soon smiling despite her annoyance. Abelas had a wonderfully dry sense of humour. His snark had been both a threat and a promise. He would not relinquish his place at her side, despite being dismissed from her bed.
His love for her was more binding than his Oath to Mythal.
"After you have been fed and watered", advised Abelas. "I will introduce you to my brethren".
He nodded to the open doorway leading outside their hut. His face softened when Ellana's breath hitched. Her wonder gave way to fright when she saw several elves seated around a burning fire. A spit laden with a roasting carcass cooked whilst they conversed. She was relieved to find Hawen and Minaeve were alive and well, though they kept some odd company.
Ellana counted their five companions. They might have seemed ordinary if not for the elaborate armour and embroidered hoods. Ellana recognised their garb. These were ancient elves, like Abelas, not residents of New Arlathan. Ellana groaned.
"Fenedhis lasa! Who are they?"
Abelas smirked. "They are my brothers and sisters newly awoken from Uthenera".
Ellana voiced her displeasure.
"Sentinel elves from the Temple of Mythal. Wonderful. Now I'll have a gaggle of ancient elven ducklings shadowing my every step. I won't be able to take a piss without an escort. As if my life couldn't get any more complicated".
Ellana glowered at Abelas. "If they're here now then I slept for longer than a night and a day".
"You did ma vhenan", confirmed Abelas. "You have been asleep for two weeks. Your left arm regrew in that time. The voices of the Vir'abelasan awakened my fellows while you slumbered. I think you know why".
Ellana grimaced. She knew why the sentinels were camped outside her home. The hut was modest in comparison to the Temple of Mythal in the Arbor Wilds. Ellana doubted they were used to such simplicity. The ancient elves, in her opinion, were too old-fashioned.
"They came to protect me", admitted Ellana. "I just don't understand why".
"Ellana!" growled Abelas.
Ellana rolled her golden eyes. "Oh right", she remarked. "I'm the fabled Heir of Mythal".
Her sarcasm irritated Abelas.
"Do not be so dismissive!" he scolded.
"Am I supposed to be enthusiastic about Asha'belannar changing my life to suit her whims?" retorted Ellana.
"It is a blessing!" argued Abelas.
"More like a fucking curse", countered Ellana. "I hated being the Herald of Andraste".
"Fenedhis!" swore Abelas. "You are behaving like a child!"
Ellana snorted. "Says the snooty arse who thinks it's a good thing that his lover was possessed by a spirit".
"You were not possessed!" bellowed Abelas.
His outraged cry was heard by the elves outside. Heads turned. Ellana saw several fair elven faces adorned with the vallaslin of Mythal. She had inherited Asha'belannar's host of elven sentinels. They were hers now.
"Andaran atish'an", called Ellana. "Don't worry", she told them. "We're just having a lover's spat".
Hawen snickered. "We heard".
"Aneth ara, Ellana", said Minaeve. "It is good to see you".
Ellana doubted the sentinel elves felt the same. She saw their disapproving looks. They did not like sound of her arguing with Abelas. She knew that they considered her lover their leader. The quarrelling troubled them.
"I'm surprised you're still alive", remarked Ellana. "Did Fen'Harel forget you betrayed him?"
Hawen's expression soured.
Minaeve was unperturbed by her statement. "He has not forgotten. Hawen and I are safe provided we remain in your employ, Ellana. He will not attack your home. His love for you and his respect for Mythal have stayed his hand".
"For now", concluded Ellana.
"Yes", agreed Minaeve. "Now that you are conscious. He will wait no longer. We will need to move quickly to evade him. The Dread Wolf is a dangerous enemy to have".
"I've never run from a fight", said Ellana. "If Fen'Harel thinks he's going to chase me out of my own forest. He'll soon learn otherwise".
Her statement distressed Abelas and his fellow sentinels.
"This place is far from defensible", stated one sentinel.
"It would be wisest to retreat", declared another.
"They are right, Ellana", reasoned Abelas. "We cannot stay here".
Ellana shrugged off the hand that tried to grasp her shoulder. She moved away from Abelas to the low-table beside the hearth. She took the plate he'd brought for her from the table-top. It was filled with roasted meat and root vegetables. It smelt delicious.
"I'm not running away", avowed Ellana. "This is my home. I will not abandon it".
"Ellana", implored Abelas.
"No!" barked Ellana. "I'm not afraid of that black-hearted beast! If he pisses on my doorstep, I'll geld him! This is my home! I'm staying, Abelas!"
Ellana ignored him in favour of satisfying her ravenous hunger. She tucked into her meal with relish. The pleased groan on her first mouthful made one sentinel redden. Ellana was quick to drain several mouthfuls of water from the accompanying cup. She continued to eat with gusto as she filled her empty stomach.
Elvish Translations: Courtesy of the Dragon Age Wiki – Elven Language.
Nae – No.
Ma halam – Are you finished?
Ir abelas – I am sorry.
Ma vhenan – My heart.
Elgar'len – Spirit-child.
Vir'abelasan – The Well of Sorrows.
Asha'belannar –The Woman of Many Years – The Dalish name for Flemeth.
Andaran atish'an – I dwell in this place of peace. A formal elven greeting.
Aneth ara – My safe place – A Dalish greeting.
Fenedhis – An elven curse, likely translated to 'wolf crap' or similar.
Fenedhis lasa – An elven curse, likely translated into 'grant or give me wolf crap' or similar.