In A Manner of My Choosing
By Pyreite
Warning: This short vignette contain the death of a canonical character. Discretion is advised.
A Wolf in the Moonlight
Ellana awoke beneath a night-black sky. The stars twinkled like diamonds in the heavens. The clouds were grey ghosts shadowing the moon. The grass swayed like the rippling tides of the sea in the starlight. Ellana felt the wind warm on her face, the scent of spring thick and heady, as she caught the scent of wildflowers.
She looked around herself in confusion. Solas was gone as was the Eluvian. She was alone in a meadow surrounded by thick forest. The branches of the trees were laden with leaves. She saw the silver reflection of eyes in the darkness beneath those trembling boughs.
Something slunk forth, parting the grass, slick as a fish sliding through water.
Ellana caught the hint of a furry ruff, pointed ears, and the flash of jagged teeth. She gasped when she saw two orbs of glowing emerald. The pitch-black pupil at the centre of each grew larger as a cloud obscured the moon. Ellana knew better than to run. Wolves ran down their prey swift as a falcon on-wing.
She was alone and vulnerable.
Her brows furrowed in confusion when she heard a soft woof. She was even more astounded when her wolf wandered into a patch of moonlight. He was long, lean, and tall in the shoulder with a stockier frame than Ellana was used too. Most wolves were slender creatures with large eyes, big ears, and long narrow snouts.
This wolf was heavy-set with paws the size of dinner-plates. His fur, silvered in the moonlight, was black as a raven's wing. A huge triangular ear turned towards Ellana. She tensed when she heard that same welcoming low-pitched bark. She was more startled to see the whip-like whirr of a shaggy black tail slicing through the grass.
When a mabari wagged its tail it was happy.
Ellana doubted the behaviour was translatable across species. She gaped when her wolf shook his great furry black head. His emerald gaze was focused upon her with unnerving intensity. Ellana jumped when something landed on her shoulder. She looked up and found she had company.
The golden whorls of the vallaslin graced her cheeks, chin, temples, and brow. Ellana recognised several parts of the pattern. It was exclusive to the dalish clans originating in the Frostback mountains. This fair flaxen-haired woman was one of her people. Ellana would have asked her name under ordinary circumstances.
When faced with a wolf as big as a horse.
She wasn't sure what to do.
"Do not worry, da'len. We are quite safe".
Ellana gaped at her unexpected visitor. Her lips pursed to ask a question. She froze when something wet and cold pressed into the swell of her cheek. Her eyes widened when that wetness was accompanied by the slick slurp of a tongue. Ellana glanced out the corner of her eye.
The huge black wolf was licking her face.
It was too much when it tried to slobber in her ear.
"Ew! Ew! No! Ick! Tongues don't go inside ears!"
Ellana pushed away the wolf's inquisitive nose. It whined and tried to evade her frantic fumbling hands. She pinched an ear when it stuck its nose in her belly. The beast whimpered and burrowed inwards. Ellana soon found herself with a lapful of contrite wolf.
She scowled when her unidentified elven guest chortled.
"I think he likes you".
Ellana squealed when a rough wet tongue slid under her chin.
"No I think he loves you".
"Ew!" cried Ellana. "Make him stop! He's licking me to death!"
"Oh, da'len", laughed her unknown companion. "One does not tell the spirit of Fen'Harel what to do".
"What did you say?"
The elven woman smiled. "You heard me, da'len".
"Who are you?"
The woman regarded Ellana with a kindness and compassion that made her want to cry.
Deshanna Istimaethoriel, the Keeper of Clan Lavellan, had been just as motherly too.
"I am Marethari Talas, a humble Keeper of Clan Sabrae".
Ellana stared. "You're the Keeper of Mahariel's clan?"
Marethari nodded. "I was".
"I don't understand".
Marethari gestured to the darkened landscape all around them.
"I died as you did".
"Are we in the Fade?"
Marethari sighed. "No, da'len. We are in the night-lands, caught halfway between heaven and earth. This place exists in a perpetual twilight from which there is no escape. Only the dead still clinging to life linger here".
Elvish Translations: Courtesy of the Dragon Age Wiki – Elven Language
Da'len – Little one.
Solas – Pride.
Fen'Harel – The Dread Wolf – The elven god of Rebellion, Betrayal, and Trickery.