Freedom Among Slaves: A Mage's beginning
Chapter three: Life with the Dalish
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, Bioware or EA
Author's note: This chapter is pure fluff. The plot will speed back up again in the next chapter though.
"Wake up! Wake up! The Keeper says you can join in my lessons and we're going to teach the younger elves about the fall of Arlathan and Tamlen and Mahariel are getting their Vallaslin and Haren Paival says he'll sing the bit from the Chant of Light about Shartan and it's going to be an amazing day! Come on, come on! Lethallan, wake up already! Hawke!"
Hawke opened her eyes to see Merril dancing around the aravel. Hawke got up and dressed swiftly, using the washbasin to clean her face. To Hawke's surprise the red paint did flake off her nose, but the skin beneath the thick paste was stained red. Hawke gasped at her reflection in the water.
Merril hurried over to see what was the matter.
"Oh! Mahariel does use such strong face paint. Still, at least you won't have to put any more on. It's a bit like a birthmark, isn't it?" Merril tilted her head, "From this angle it looks like a dragons head!"
"Well, it is rather apropos, in this age." Hawke smiled crookedly at Merril.
"Dragon Age, aha! Oh, you're so funny, Hawke!" Merril giggled, one hand loosely covering her grinning mouth, "Oh, at this rate we'll be late for the Keeper! We really need to go!"
Merril pushed her friend out of the aravel, pausing only so they could both grab their staves.
Learning how to grasp her magic and guide her mana through her will alone proved to be a challenging task and by the time Hawke and Merril joined the youngest elves for their history lesson Hawke was covered in sweat. When Hawke asked Merril about it she was told that it was quite normal for a mage after their first proper use of mana and Merril (quite cheerfully) informed her that if she overtaxed herself she would feel tired like this again.
Hawke's ears pricked up when Haren Paival recited the verses of the Chant of Light which mentioned Shartan, the elven leader who had marched with Andraste during her slave revolt. The verses had been removed from the Chant in the Glory Age, when the Divine ordered a Holy Exalted March against the Dales, the second elven homeland. The tale filled Hawke with a sense of loss.
Hawke looked down at her hands, letting the warmth of the fire and the quiet lilt of Haren Paival's voice lull her into a sense of comfort and security.
She looked up as Tamlen and Mahariel approached, followed by Keeper Marethari. The two hunters bore the Vallaslin- blood writing, Merril had told her- on their faces. They had received similar designs, but Mahariel's was slightly more detailed.
"They even chose the same patron god. Those two are head over heels, I swear." Merril whispered to Hawke.
Hawke nodded as the three additions sat down. The evening meal was soon served, skewers of meat and vegetables, perfectly seasoned and cooked. The food made Hawke's mouth water as she dug in. It was infinitely better than any of the rich, sickly sweet dishes she'd eaten in Hightown. This was real food, hearty and hale. It filled her with a pleasant warmth that refused to fade all through the evening, until she returned to the aravel she shared with Merril and fell sound asleep.
Her dreams that night were pleasant and filled her heart with even more warmth, if that were even possible.
Justice waited in the Fade. He sat cross-legged, hands rested on his knees, meditating.
Hawke had been older than most mages when she discovered her magical talent. She would need help to reach the skill level of other mages her age in any reasonable length of time. Justice remembered Hawke's father explaining to him how his spells worked. Justice's own experience of shaping the Fade since the day he came into existence- Fade spirits weren't born, they just were- would fill in the gaps in his knowledge of magical theory quite nicely.
His eyes- or rather, facsimiles of eyes, nothing really had a physical form in the Fade- snapped open. He'd recognise that slight disturbance anywhere.
Hawke…she had entered the Fade. He rose and hurried to meet her, hoping his eagerness would be mistaken for protectiveness
Hawke was surprised to see Justice waiting for her, and even more so when he explained that he would show her what he knew about magic- after all, it wasn't just that Hawke knew less than others her age about magic.
Justice was a patient tutor, gently correcting Hawke's mistakes, repeating complex incantations multiple times without her having to ask.
When Hawke had learned all she could, Justice spread his arms and the region of the Fade they were in changed.
They now stood in an empty ballroom. Musician-less instruments lined the circular walls. The roof was clear, showing the constellations.
Hawke smiled, closing her eyes and recalling Justice's lesson. When she opened her eyes she was wearing a loose fitting, comfortable dress.
Justice smiled in approval. He bowed slightly and extended a hand.
"My lady?"
The instruments began playing themselves, violins, a flute, a harp.
La-la la-la-la la-la-la-la,
La-la la-la-laa la-la la-la laa,
La-la-la la-la-la…
They danced, and it didn't make Hawke nauseous. It felt like the robes Merril had given her- unfamiliar and strange, yet comforting and completely natural.
Hawke dance with her friend, and she was happy.
Author's note: If anyone's wondering what the song is it's called "Waltz to the moon". It's from Final Fantasy 8 and it plays during a cutscene in which two characters are dancing. I just thought it would fit this part of the story.