Freedom Among Slaves: A Mage's beginning
Chapter two: Aneth ara, lethallan!
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, Bioware or EA.
Sound, like wind striking canvas assaulted Marian's ears. Expecting to be at home, in bed, in her family's Hightown estate, Marian opened her eyes. She wasn't at home. Nor anywhere she recognised, for that matter.
The roof of the tent-like structure Marian was inside was made of a thick, reddish-brown cloth. The lower part of the structure was made of wood. It seemed to be raised slightly above the ground. Here and there Marian saw signs of life; a neat stack of roughly bound, dog-eared books stood in one corner, a bowl of water, a pitcher and a cloth rested on a makeshift table, beside which a closed trunk sat, various plants grew in clay pots here and there, all positioned to catch the sunlight through gaps in the overhead material. A bundle of clothes had been folded carefully and placed by Marian's feet. Marian noticed she was lying on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed.
With trepidation Marian lifted the blankets, remembering her fall. Her torso and sections of her arms and legs had been bandaged; the clothes she had been wearing were gone.
Probably too torn to wear anyway, Marian thought, reaching for the clothes at the foot of the bed. They were strange and unfamiliar, yet comforting and completely natural. Loose brown breeches, a sleeveless green tunic, bell sleeves that covered her arms from midway down her upper-arm and billowed out around her hands, connected to a set of feathered pauldrons which joined together at the back to form a seamless whole and dark green boots that laced up to her knees.
Marian gently ran a hand across one of the sleeves, feeling the faint song, the hum of the lyrium fuelled enchantments woven into the very thread of the cloth. A costly gift indeed.
The thought of her mysterious benefactor filled Marian's mind with curiosity. Looking about she noticed a ramp heading up to a flap of cloth. That must be the exit.
Merril sat outside her aravel, quivering with excitement. She'd read in books that humans who lived together called themselves room-mates. She guessed that made the human girl her aravel-mate. Merril fiddled with the girls staff. Well- the girl didn't know it was her staff yet. The girl didn't know Merril yet.
Merril was sure they would be friends- or at least, that the human wouldn't try to eat her or anything.
Still, with Mahariel and Tamlen out hunting or mooning over each other all of the time and with her own training as the Keeper's First eating up much of Merril's own free time, Merril would be glad of the company. She was the only mage her age in the Sabrae clan. She had been given to the clan during the Arlathvhen. She had been too young to remember much from before. She didn't mind. But since then she'd been alone. One of two mages in the Sabrae clan, the other being the Keeper.
Now she could have a friend who understood. Understood what it was like to have magic. Merril looked up as the human girl emerged from the aravel, wearing the robes Merril had lain out for her.
"Aneth ara lethallan!" Merril greeted the girl cheerfully, using the friendly honorific without thinking in her giddy state.
Embarrassed by the girl's blank stare, Merril explained her greeting in the common tongue. Merril gave the girl her staff and pulled at her sleeve, leading her to the Keeper, all the while keeping up a steady stream of chatter.
Marian smiled and let the young elven girl tug her along. The girl pointed out things in the camp, statues of elven gods, the halla pens, other elves. The girl mixed common with the elven tongue seamlessly, occasionally pausing in her monologue to explain a word or a phrase.
The girl cheerfully greeted all of the other elves they came across, and from their replys Marian gathered that the girls name was Merril.
At last the unlikely duo reached an elderly female elf that was standing by a fire. She introduced herself to Marian as Keeper Marethari and explained how the two hunters- Mahariel and Tamlen- had found her. Marian noticed the aforementioned hunters sitting close by the fire. The girl- Mahariel- smiled tentatively at her and the boy- Tamlen- glared at her with open hostility.
Does he hate all humans or just me? Marian wondered.
Marian's thoughts were interrupted by the Keeper asking her how she came to be falling from the sky.
Marian explained that she'd discovered she was a mage, and recounted the escape attempt. The Keeper took it all in, nodding when Marian finished. The Keeper mulled over Marian's tale, but the silence was interrupted by a loud chortle.
"See? I told you shems are stupid! Ahahahahahaha!" Tamlen laughed, tears pouring down his face.
"Tamlen!" Merril shrieked at him, outraged that the girl she now viewed as being her new best friend was getting laughed at.
Marethari sighed, smoothing the lines on her forehead with one hand, shaking her head. Merril ranted at Tamlen for the guts of five minutes, but this only made his fit of laughter worse. Tamlen finally ceased his laughing when he caught the death glare being levelled at him by Mahariel. He mumbled an apology and turned a bright, splotchy red.
Relieved that the teenagers had regained some of their dignity Marethari spoke.
"Merril and I knew that you were gifted with magic, indeed, even before you told us. You are very lucky. Had you been born without it, you would, like as not, have died of your injuries. Your mana responded to the healing touch of ours' and helped us to heal the worst of your injuries. It was stronger than it should have been, given your near death state. Do not fear, we shall take you with us when we leave here. I have…an acquaintance in Ferelden who would be interested in meeting you child, and I, too am curious as to your abilities."
"We wouldn't abandon a fellow mage to the Templars!" Merril interjected.
"Indeed, da'len. The humans who trade with us may recognise your name if not you face, however…"
"She could take a new name, and we could put her hair like…" Mahariel stood and fiddled with Marian's hair, "…So, and we could…" Mahariel dug around in her pack, coming up with a pot of red war-paint, she liberally smeared it across Marian's nose. "There! She looks just like a particularly robust elf now! Doesn't she?"
The others nodded. It was true, with Marian's hair arranged to cover the tips of her ears, and with the elven clothes, she looked just like an elf. The war-paint on her nose altered her appearance enough so you couldn't see who she was, if you weren't too close to her.
"Now she just needs a name…"
"How about Hawke?" Tamlen suggested, "She did look like she fell from the sky and well…those are bird feathers she's wearing."
"Kinda suits her," Mahariel agreed.
Merril nodded eagerly, dancing a little jig to herself. Marethari chuckled.
"Hawke…I like it," Hawke, once Marian, agreed.
After a day spent with Merril, Mahariel, Tamlen and other members of the clan, Hawke was glad when Merril led her back to their shared aravel and yelled "I call top bunk!" before promptly climbing up and curling under the blankets. Hawke was surprised that even Tamlen, who had seemed to wholeheartedly hate her when he first saw her, had been kind. Perhaps not being able to see her rounded ears made it easy for him to pretend that she wasn't a human- a shemlen, as he'd termed it- but an elf. Marian fell into a fitful sleep.
In her dreams she saw horror after horror. The last image was one of her innocent little sister Bethany and sweet, kind-hearted, eccentric Merril dead and broken, killed right in front of her by two hulking Templars.
She'd watched, unable to help, her mana torn from her, as they died.
Then she felt another presence- not another one of the demons who tortured her, something as opposite to them as could be. It drove the demons back and approached her, lying curled up on the ground in the Fade. It surveyed her for a moment, before gently picking her up and carrying her to another piece of the Fade.
"I am sorry I did not arrive sooner, Marian, but my nature compelled me to help elsewhere. I had intended to greet you when you entered the Fade, but sadly that was not possible."
"Who-who are you?"
The thing solidified in front of her, taking on the form of an armed warrior.
"Ah- again, my apologies. I am Justice."
"Your name is Justice?"
"It is but a virtue I aspire to; I have no name. I am a spirit of the Fade."
"I read that spirits don't bother with mortals."
Justice's eyes flashed behind the eye slits of his helmet.
"You do not deserve to be tormented by those demons, nor did you deserve to be chased from your home. Marian, most you have been taught about spirits and mages is a falsehood. I have watched over you since childhood, and I'm not about to stop now. Look within yourself now an tell me that is not true."
Hawke sat, accepting the truth in the spirits words. She had in fact been granted good dreams when she was upset, or when the nightmares of the previous night had been particularly bad, all through her life. She guessed that was Justice's doing.
"Marian?" she'd been silent for several minutes.
"It's- it's Hawke. Not Marian, Hawke."
Justice seemed to glow brighter, his version of a smile.
"You aspire to be free, like a hawk?"
Hawke nodded, it had been one of the reasons she'd accepted Tamlen's suggestion.
Justice laughed, a clean, pure sound. Like ringing bells.
"It is a good choice for you."
"What is so funny?"
"An expression of mirth, nothing more."
"…right," For some reason she doubted the spirit, "I amuse you?" she smiled slyly- let him figure out that!
"I…"
Hawke never got to hear Justice's reply; she could feel her body tugging at her mind. Time to wake up!
She sighed and surrendered to wakefulness.
Justice let himself laugh after Hawke left. I am really quite enjoying observing her, the spirit mused Marian is-Hawke is he corrected himself Hawke is quite interesting for a mortal. So pure of heart…her father would be proud…
The thought of her father left Justice in an uncontrollable fit of giggles- very unlike him.
To think, she chanced upon that name…It cannot be a coincidence.
The spirit went back about his business. When would she realise he'd been gone because he was drained from the effort of healing her? That he hadn't intervened until then because he couldn't? That he'd saved her life?
He hoped she never did. He didn't want her to feel indebted to him. To feel like she owed him. She didn't. It had been his pleasure to help her.
Besides he'd promised her father…Her father! Again the obliviousness of mortals to the most obvious of truths set him laughing. Could they not see the resemblance?
Unbidden, Justice's thoughts turned to Hawke's face. He truly thought she was beautiful.
Enough! Justice wrenched his thoughts back under control. She will age and die while you will not! He berated himself.
Feeling angry, Justice decided to go and hunt some demons. And if he met some spirits along the way who embodied any of her virtues, he'd recommend her form to them.