Qunari Do Not Choose

I'm sure by now you are wondering why I wish to retell these tales to you?

Well, it is my greatest hope, that with hearing these stories, you will have a better understanding of their people.

It is, in my understanding, that not many in our world would care to even try to know the Qunari race. That they label them all as monsters, when that is not the case.

Those that do know of the Qunari race, know only of their brutal beliefs. It is said, a Qunari is born into a role, and that is the end of that. A warrior, is a warrior. Cold, calculating, and relentless.

A Qunari, remains that bestowed role until the day they die. Choice, is neither an option, nor a right.

Well, I wish to tell you about one, who chose.

The suns final rays began to slowly creep behind the mountains. The forest grew increasingly darker with each passing moment, which only made the large Tal Vashoth wish to pick up his pace. These woods were not safe during the day for his kind. But, unlike those that would hunt him, night time was the fearsome brute's domain. A Qunari, though large, could slip in and out of the darkness. He could be like smoke, if he chose.

But, not this night. He was no killer out to hunt his prey. No, on this night, he was a simple father taking his young son out on a personal quest. Regardless, he kept a hand firmly on his swords pummel. Tal, was no fool.

Yet, on this night, his enemies were the least of his concerns. His biggest fear, remained at home, no doubt curled by the fire. He didn't feel up to answer to his heavily pregnant Kadan as to why he kept their son out late, especially without shoes. He sighed as he recalled that he probably should have set an example on that rule. But, she should have been proud that both her loved ones decided to wear their woollen tunics. Much to Tal's distress; he itched at the annoying fabric.

Still, Tal knew his son would enjoy the surprise he had arranged, which made the prospect of a disappointed mate almost worthwhile. His Kadan would understand if they were slightly late. But, Tal knew they needed to return sooner rather than later. He disliked the idea of leaving his Kadan alone for too long. Being heavy with child, her magic was somewhat unstable, especially with her mood swings.

Luckily, she wasn't as uncontrolled as she was when she had Adaar. Tal's nostrils flared in amusement as he recalled his mate flinging fireballs at random spiders, or flying off the hinge whenever something bothered her. Given her normally calm nature, the mood swings were often terrifying to Tal… if not slightly arousing. Which the once Arvaarad found confusing, given the idea of magic was once a forbidden thought. But, he had long since adjusted to bedding a mage, and even longer since he had actually come to love said mage. She was his Kadan, and always had been.

Still, her pregnancy was a very trying time for both of the stoic beings. Saare would act like an untamed fire; hence the reasoning behind their first born name. Even the mentioning of Tal's given name for her, a shorted version of her once title amongst the Qun, was enough to set her off. Unlike Tal, Saare had found adjusting to their new life… trying.

At least the second pregnancy seemed easier on his Kadan. She seemed calmer, almost overly. She seemed sluggish and terribly tired half the time. Which, was a worrying thought, given she would be vulnerable if attacked.

This sudden realisation caused the oxmen to pick his pace up more. He felt guilty once more for leaving her unattended. But still, this outing had been her suggestion.

He looked over his toned shoulders and spied his young son stumble about aimlessly, the boy so content with his surroundings to even care where they were going. Tal sighed, his little Adaar was always so easily distracted.

"Keep up, little Imekari." The large Tal Vashoth called back gently. His thunderous voice booming through the woods.

"Where are we going Pa?" the young lad picked up his pace, realising his father was some ways ahead.

"You shall see when we reach our destination." The big man slowed to allow his young sons legs to keep pace. "Are you feeling tired? Did you wish to ride on my shoulders, young one?"

"No Pa, I don't need to." The little boy puffed his chest out. "I don't get tired."

The large oxman felt pride twinge his heart. In some ways, he saw a lot of himself in his son. That similar big-headed nature, and overly confident stride, all things the Qun attempted to break from Tal as a boy. Only, Adaar was far stronger and braver, even if he was only five yearly cycles old. Adaar also shared the gentle nature his mother inhabited, something Tal was not very skilled in.

"Still, we may be late." He almost smiled as he gently lifted his son up and carried him atop his large horns.

"But I'm not tired." His son protested, a tiny struggling yawn escaped his mouth. "Not one bit."

"I know my little fire thrower, I know."

"Why do you always call me that?" Tal could hear the pout in his son's voice. "You and Ma?"

"Because, that is your name."

"My name is Adaar though." The boy sounded almost defensive.

"That is what Adaar means." Tal's lip quirked up. "Fire thrower, or weapon."

"But… I'm not a weapon." Adaar sounded offended at the very idea.

"Others may think differently." Tal snorted. "Do you not like your name?"

"I do." Adaar's nodding made Tal's horns vibrate. "But… it doesn't suit me, not completely."

"Well…" Tal sighed. "I suppose, it is only fare… I chose my name, so if you truly disliked the name your mother and I picked, you are more than allowed to change it."

"Would you and Ma be angry?" Adaar seemed to think on the prospect.

"No." Tal lied. He was certain his Kadan would probably scold him for allowing their overly creative boy chose his own name. "So long as you don't call yourself something ridiculous."

"Okay Pa." Adaar sounded excited. "But, can I keep Adaar as my name, as well?"

"I thought you wished to change it?" Tal frowned.

"No, I want to keep it. You and Ma named me that, it is my name, but I want another name." Adaar's little legs swung back and forth gently batting against his father's barrelled chest. "I heard some of the bas in town call each other two names, I want two as well."

"You aren't a bas though, little Imekari." Tal grunted. "But… if that is what you wish, then it is your choice…. Meravas, it is your decision to make."

Tal walked on in silence, listening to his son's slight chatter as he pointed at various things that lurked in the woods. He couldn't help but enjoy the sounds of his son's speech, it was a unique sound to the once Arvaarad. Given his role in the Qun, Tal had never had experiences with children, least of all his own. He felt his heart grow heavy, he often wondered what became of his other children that were raised in the Qun.

"Pa?" Adaar peeped into his father's ear. "Did you hear me Pa?"

"No, sorry my little one."

"I asked why I don't have horns like you." His son began tapping lightly on his father's horns.

"Because you are only young." Tal answered truthfully. "They will grow soon enough."

"Can… can I not have horns?"

"Sometimes our people are born hornless, but it is very rare." Tal lifted his head up, attempting to look into his son's eyes. "Do you not want horns, Imekari?"

Adaar looked away. His already grey cheeks darkened slightly as he felt embarrassed for having spoken on such things in the first place. Tal felt slightly worried, his son was rarely quiet.

"What troubles you?" he frowned.

"If… If I don't grow horns, will other children like me?" Adaar asked truthfully.

Tal lowered his head, attempting to think of an answer to give his wide eyed son. In truth, being hornless wouldn't really help a Qunari with 'fitting in' when it came to living amongst Bas. Their skin colour, facial structure and hulking size were all indications they did not belong in this world, a world over run by tiny people. Horns, was the least of the young Vashoth's worries.

"I cannot say, my son." Tal sighed. "I do not know well enough of bas, to answer you."

Lying wasn't something Tal was used to. Living in the Qun, every question was answered wholeheartedly; blunt and brutal. It was one of the many things the Tal Vashoth had grown tired of enduring. Lying wasn't a good thing, that much Tal understood, but he preferred that from breaking his innocent son's heart. He wanted his son to be different from others in their race, to have a chance.

His son was not Tal Vashoth, not in his father's eyes. He was something new, a fresh beginning. Adaar, was a Kossith. He was born and raised away from the Qun, and from the brutal ways of the Tal Vashoth mercenaries' that believed their way was 'free'. Both Qunari and Vashoth were slaves to their race. Kossith, were free. Adaar, was free.

"I don't want horns…" Adaar murmured sadly.

Tal felt his heart sink as he heard his tiny boy's revelation. Given the size of Tal's, it would probably be a very rare occurrence if he had produced a child unable to grow horns.

"You know, my son," Tal attempted to lighten to mood. "Where I was born, having horns was a sign of greatness." Tal disliked speaking of his life in the Qun, but if it helped his son cope, he would.

"Why?"

"Because, the horns make us look larger. Fearsome, powerful and unstoppable. Some believe we resemble Atashi, and the bigger our horns the greater the likeness. When a male grew large horns, he was considered stronger than others. Usually, the leader of our race was a Qunari born with exceptional horns, but not always. Sometimes-"

"What's an a-a-atashee, Pa?" Tal felt his little one tweak his horns slightly.

"A dragon, Adaar. Like those in the stories I tell." Tal felt his lip curl upwards slightly. Though he was still growing accustomed to being 'fatherly', he was at least good when it came to entertaining his son.

"Oh… Why would anyone want to look like a dragon?" Young Adaar squeaked in almost shock. "Dragons are big, mean and scary…"

"Some people would say the same of us, little one." He grunted in amusement. "It is befitting, that we resemble them."

"I don't think we are scary…" Adaar grumbled in annoyance.

"I know, little one." Tal sighed in defeat. His son was too young to understand, and Tal was certain by the time he was old enough to, the boy would choose to disagree. Which, made the old Tal Vashoth proud, choice was something he wanted for his kin.

"Maybe I won't grow horns… Maybe I'll be like Ma."

Tal felt pain grip his heart. Its icy claws dug deep, causing the oxmen's breathing to hitch slightly. He thought back to his Kadan, her scarred grey lips, laceration marks around her neck from where her leash once was… the hollow sprouts from which her beautiful horns once grew. His heart thumped loudly against his grey chest, memories came flooding back. Memories of a time before he knew of freedom, a time of obedience and command. A time, when he held his Kadan's leash.

"Pa?" Adaar gently ran his hands through his father's snowy locks. Tal quickly calmed himself, realising he was shaking like a frightened Dathrasi.

"Your mother did have horns… once…" Tal bit his lip in supressed anger.

"She did?" Adaar squeaked in surprise. "Why doesn't she have any now?"

"They… were removed…" Tal's pace slowed as he felt physically heavy with guilt.

"Why?"

Tal's sharp and strong teeth bit down hard against his grey lips, he felt the bitter taste as a few drops of blood escaped the mark.

"Because, she was…" Tal racked his brain, trying to think of a way to understand the complex and confusing ways of their people. "Where we came from, having no horns is a sign of fear. It symbolises difference, standing alone amongst a people that is one."

"Because most Qunari have horns?"

"Yes." Tal nodded. "When a Qunari is born this way, they are feared and respected. Some, even revered. It is believed that the Kossith people once had no horns, but somewhere along the way… we changed. We grew stronger."

"But why did they remove Ma's horns? Because she was special?"

"In a way…" Tal felt guilt gnaw at his stomach. "But, mostly because she was dangerous. It was a way for people to know this, to fear her… But, without her horns, she was also respected. It meant she accepted her role."

"But-"

"No more, my little Adaar." Tal sighed, his heart beyond heavy. "I do not wish to speak more of our people… No more, at least for tonight."

"Yes, Pa."

Tal reached his large calloused hand above his head, he tussled his boys shaggy mane playfully. The child giggled at the minor sign of affection. He desperately wished he could give his son the answers he needed. Perhaps one day, but not then. Not while he was so young, and not while Tal still healed from his agony.

Tal looked up to find they had finally reached their destination, much to his aching backs delight. Tal had grown slightly soft in his days away from both the Qun and the Tal Vashoth mercenary companies. This could not be, he had to remain strong. For his precious family.

"We are here, little one." He lifted his son up and placed him down on the ground.

Adaar looked about, they had entered a large clearing, where the tall trees reached up and touched the sky. The sky, which was now completely covered with thousands and thousands of stars.

"Wow…" the little grey child grinned in awe as he craned his neck.

Tal almost smiled, but instead took a seat beside his twirling boy. He felt the cool tickle of the slightly damp grass brush against his scarred hands, the sensation helped him relax.

Adaar finished spinning about in his wondrous state and took a seat overly close beside his father. Tal began pointing up to the stars, retelling the constellations he could recall. He had chosen this particular spot for a strategic purpose; this field was able to see majority of the constellations that spread across all of Thedas. Tal had been scouting the area, just for this purpose.

"That one there son, is called Fenrir." He pointed towards the north of the sky. "It means 'White Wolf', the constellation was originally found in Tevinter." Tal felt sick mentioning the place. "The elves of this nation say it represents one of their many false Gods. And that one, that one is Eluvia."

"What does that one mean, Pa?" Adaar gushed in amazement of his father's knowledge.

"I believe this particular constellation's origin has been lost through translation." He grunted in annoyance. "Arguments between Orlesian scholars and Tevinter Imperium vashedan's have been carrying on through decades. One says it represents some false and forgotten God, the others say it is some foolish story about someone going to the stars…"

"And that one?" Adaar gleefully pointed west.

"That is Toth." Tal snorted in annoyance. "Yet another one named after a forgotten God. It means fire dragon."

"That's cool!" Adaar beamed. Tal looked lopsided to his son.

"Fire isn't normally known to be cold…" he shook his head. " That one is Krios, another supposed God. And that one is Draconis. Can you guess what that one means?"

"Is it… dragon?" Adaar chewed his lip. "Or a Tevinter God?"

"Both correct." He grunted in amusement. "It means High Dragon, as for being Tevinter that is up for debate."

"How do you know all this?" Adaar gushed.

"I chose to study it, when I lift Par Vollen with your mother." Tal's eyes twinkled. "I had always found the stars fascinating, as you do now. But, I was never allowed to think more on them in the Qun, it wasn't my place to know or care…"

Adaar looked to the sky, almost disappointed. His little grey lip puckered and he sighed heavily. Tal worried, he didn't like it when his son showed strange emotions, and it stressed him.

"Is something wrong?" Tal's nostrils flared. "Are you hurt? Sick? Tired? Hungry?"

"Pa… why is there no Qunari or Kossith constellations?" Adaar continued to pout. "They are all Tevinter… why aren't our Gods in the sky?"

Tal felt instantly relaxed knowing his son was fine.

"Qunari do not worship God's, my son. Especially made up ones." Tal placed a strong hand on his son's shoulder. "As for Tevinter origins, their scholars simply found these star clusters and took claim over them."

"Do our people have different names for them?" Adaar looked up, his eyes growing wider with hope.

"No son." His eyes fell. "Our people, do not really worry over such trivial things. We took note of what other places called them, catalogued it, then moved on. The names seemed suitable enough, I suppose."

"Oh…" Adaar looked forlorn to the earth.

Tal watched his son, he felt he had let him down. Tal had sworn before Adaar was born he would do away with his past life, forget the Qun and all its painful lessons. Like many who had betrayed their race before him, he had taken a name and forgotten his purpose. And yet, he felt disappointed in himself for not being able to provide some form of a purpose and culture to pass onto his own flesh and blood.

Suddenly, he recalled something. His ears perked up and his lip twitched with excitement.

"Actually, there is one constellation." Adaar looked up. "One that is known amongst our people. It represents us, in a way. It symbolises strength, a force of power and pride. It is as older than our very existence. Some believe it is why our people chose to grow horns, to become strong, just as this constellation was."

"What is it?"

Tal lifted his free hand and pointed to the furthest cluster of stars to the east. The stars were far away, further than those of the Tevinter origin, but they were still noticeable. Hiding even, waiting for a chance to be noticed. Adaar's eyes grew with wonder as the shape of the horned beast came into sight.

"It is called Taurus, the Great Bull." Tal felt his heart lift as he saw the look of pride on his sons face. "Just as you, my son, will grow to become a great man. You are strong, like the Bull. Yet, you are patient, just as he is. A bull is a noble creature, even in our culture. They protect those that follow it, and run down those that oppose. The mighty guardian, the fierce horned beast, the patient protector."

"How is he patient, Pa?"

"Because, like our people, he waits. He waits for the world to notice him, and yet he is content with being unseen. Because, as he lays dormant amongst those who seem more powerful, he grows stronger, fiercer. And to those that threaten him, he raises his mighty horns, and runs them down like a relentless force."

"So… we are like him… because we are patient and strong… and have horns…" Adaar added with a childish snicker.

"Yes, son. That too." Tal snorted. "But come little one, we must return to your mother."

Adaar let out a large groan in protest, but didn't struggle when his father perched him once more atop his horns.

As Tal stomped through the woods he felt his son grow heavy with sleep. He heard the occasional sigh as the child fought back resting. Tal felt his core warm with love as Adaar snuggled into his strong head, legs dangling around his father's shoulders.

"Taurus…" Adaar yawned. "I like that name…"