I dreamt of a forest. A blue tranquil forest with nothing there but tall shadows of pine trees and the small distant glows of fireflies. It was beautiful, peaceful and still. I wandered in and out of the tall shadows and letting my fingers brush over the soft tickling prickles of the pines. I felt like a ghost, thin and light but so peaceful. Like I was there and I was not. I knew then it had to be a dream, I couldn't remember how I'd come to this forest. I was then all too aware of a presence behind me, a padding of feet at least five yards away. Dalish instincts kicking in my bow was in my hands, arrow taught and pointed at the strange foreboding shadow I'm the distance. It remained in its place, only slowly floating in the breeze. I tightened my bow, as it had slackened in my confusion but I readjusted my eyes, narrowing them until the shape began to take the form of something solid. Before I knew it a great black wolf was bounding towards me, ice blue eyes trained on me, so predatory and fierce. I let my arrow fly as I took a step back, fear surging through my body. This was a moment of flight, not fight. However I was not fast enough, which was strange, the wolf wasn't that close and I am one of the fasted in my clan, but still I ended up pinned by it. Its bright intelligent eyes baring into mine. What was even more strange was the lack of bared teeth, no... The wolf actually seemed curious, dropping its face closer as its eyes looked into mine, with something so engaging about those blue eyes, like they were studying me carefully and calmly... Suddenly, however, the strange dream evaporated into darkness and for a moment I was conscious of nothing only my own rapid breathing. Then muffled voices filtered in through the blackness, both lyrical in their own strange way and both male. I felt my brow furrow as I tried to piece together their words and meanings, my eyes still too heavy to open.
"Just don't forget about trixy over here, chuckles, I don't know what they gave her but she's been out for two days straight. That can't be good for you." It was the lower, rougher of the two voices. He was concerned, presumably for me, and for that I was thankful.
"Do forgive me, Varric, if my priority is saving the prisoner who fell from the fade, baring an impossible mark of magic that may or may not be the only way to stop the Breach. I do not have time to dab the forehead of a fool Dalish who got herself into this mess." Said the other, his voice, though laced with frustration, was soft and warm underneath. Though it thoroughly bothered me that he thought me so unimportant, it stung me more than I know it should. With great difficulty I tried to open my eyes, but still they were heavy and even when I could crack them open a little all I saw was a dark blur of fire light and chains.
Chains. No. No, not chains, why was I in chains. With a surge of adrenalin and a deep breath in, like I had been underwater for days, I prized my eyes open and shot up from the hard and splintered prison bench I lay on. With a quick scan I realised yes, I was in their dungeons, their damp dark and insufferably cramped dungeons and yes, around my ankle gripped an old rusted iron chain. Another surge of panic welled up in my throat as desperate fingers immediately tried to pry it off. Failing that, I tried to stand in a futile attempt to yank the damned thing off, but it only clattered noisily and I was hit with a brutal wave of dizziness, my vision ebbing out as I fell to the floor, my body numb as the blood rushed to my head.
"Wow, easy there kid!" Said the lower voice and I turned, trying to get my senses back to their natural sharpness. Beside me a dwarf crouched down, kind brown eyes, short blond hair and chest hair more than making up for his lack of beard.
"Bet that's one hell of a head rush you got there." He said with a crooked smile, passing me a small cup of water. I nodded in thanks, still not quite sure of my voice. It felt dry and cracked and as soon as the water touched my lips, I realised how thirsty I was and drank it all in nearly one gulp.
"Thank you..." I croaked. The dwarf, Varric, I presumed winked and smiled as he helped me to my feet.
"No problem, us jail birds need to stick together. Isn't that right chuckles?" He said turning his head to the left where I saw, hunched over at the other other end at the cell, the owner of the voice who thought me so unimportant. He didn't make any motion to acknowledge Varric's question and the dwarf sighed at that.
"He's a little preoccupied at the moment." He excused the hunched over shadow. I studied him in the low warm glow of the prison cell. He was hunched over another body. A shemlen woman, warm chestnut hair and pale perfect skin save for one scar marring her full lips. She was pretty, I suppose, even unconscious and sweaty as she was, obviously a fever. The shadow that tended her with the soft voice was yet a mystery, though I'm sure, even in the low light that I picked out a pair of pointed ears. He was an elf then, even if his back was unusually broad and even hunched over I could see his height was above average too. He was peculiar, but I immediately held contempt for him, recalling his dismissive tone at my state and the fact he referred to me as a 'fool dalish'. He was probably some snooty circle mage elf that thought my people below his stature. That judgement only furthered my contempt for him, so I turned away from him and back to Varric, he seemed much friendlier.
"What happened?" I asked carefully. The dwarf smiled,"You mean before or after you shouted that ghastly euphemism at the commander." He chuckled and I felt my face grow warm at the recollection of my oh so tactful, 'I never come quietly' remark. I bit my lip in expression of my embarrassment, making him laugh further.
"Well, trixy, they knocked you out cold with some sort of herb, only way they'd be able to get you in here I imagine. Well, they through you in here and you lay there for two days like a rag doll and here we are." He said, gesturing around us.
"No, I mean, what happened to the conclave?" I persisted. Varric's smile suddenly fell and the gleeful spark he held in his eyes dulled.
"Some one or something blasted it to pieces, killed thousands of people along with the divine. Seeker, or Cassandra, the woman you crossed paths with I presume, looked for someone to blame. At first, that was you and I'm pretty sure some part of her still suspects you but then chuckles came offering profound elfy magical knowledge and then the good lady over there stumbled out of the breach. Now she's here, and everyone is blaming her. Funny, no one is actually doing anything to stop it yet, just pointing fingers." He finished and looked away morosely.
My memory jogged and the fear of that massive tear in the sky came back to me, the thunderous quaking of the explosion and how my ears rang came back. I had to shut my eyes against it. It wasn't right. The conclave was meant to help, no matter how hopeless or no matter how many times the mages and Templar's argued circles around each other it was helping. It was a step in the right direction, no more unwitting hunters caught in templar cross fires, no more halla caught up in rains of ice and fire. No more pointless war that destroyed everything that was once good and green and whole. But that was all gone now, all the hope of peace to wander freely again was gone. The war would consume the world, the forests would burn and the seas would turn to ash and there would be no more world to wander. I opened my eyes then and ferociously blinked back the tears as I stared through the one small barred window high on the wall. The sky was beautiful and grey and sleepy, on the verge of nightfall. Dainty flakes of snow fluttered on the breeze like wisps. It was beautiful. How could people war like this when there was so much beauty in the world? I stood softly, still aware that I may get another head rush, and made my way towards the window. It was too high up to see out of, even on my tip toes, so, I stepped up onto the wooden bench and stretched my neck to get a better view.
Now that I could see out properly, I saw the mountains in the distance, the village of Haven that should be a sleepy little town, bustling with soldiers and yes, that sickening green tear that threatened to swallow the world. If the mage templar war didn't destroy us, that thing most certainly would. It was bigger than I remembered, which was bad. Very bad. Was no one doing anything to stop it? I hopped down from the bench and began to pace. I needed to help, I needed to do something. I would not stay idle here while the world fell apart. My eyes caught sight of the bars that held me and my temper flared, I needed to get out, I would not stay caged like some animal. I would not be trapped by the shemlens. Never again. I marched towards the offending iron bars and rattled them loudly.
"Hello! Does someone want to tell me why the hell I'm still locked up!" I cried angrily rattling the bars again, only stopping when they went red hot from the magic ebbing from my hands. I hissed a curse and pulled away, returning to my pacing. "Dread wolf take whoever's bloody ides this was. I mean really, there's a hole in the sky and they're only concern is a dwarf, two elves and some bloody noble woman? Somebody really needs to get their priorities right. I mean we could help! I can help!" I shouted through the bars, my voice echoing over the prison. It was then I heard a derogatory scoff and the rustle of material to my left.
"And what help could you bring, dhalen? Will you fire your arrows at the sky and hope it goes away? Perform some forgotten rite over a pile of ancient stones? Or perhaps curse it with the dread wolf. No, dhalen, you cannot help here, not unless you want to become fodder for the demons that spew from the breach every moment we stand by." It was the gentle voice, though again it was wreathed in frustration, desperation and fear. The elf had stood and was glaring at me, a glare of ice blue eyes that seemed familiar somehow. I was right about him being tall but his face was also different, long and proud and sharp, and though I hated to admit (because he was being remarkably rude to me) he was quite handsome. But I was outraged by his remarks, outraged at how he condescended, thought me nothing more than demon fodder. I turned on him and matched his glare.
"Do not presume to think you know anything about me or my people, flat ear." I hissed.
"And there, the trade mark of all the proud Dalish. Name calling when their argument is moot." He said caustically turning back to his patient.
Excuse me? Argument? That was not an argument! that was you insulting me and my culture in the space of three sentences! How bloody dare you, you stuck up old dick! Here's an idea, instead of waving your hands about her why don't you actually try to wake her up!" I barked at him, pointing to his patient who still lay unconscious. He looked taken aback by my remarks hesitating a moment, giving me enough time to push him aside and crouch down beside the woman. Her brow was still laced with sweat and her eyes were dark and her lips were cracked.
"Magic doesn't fix everything." I mumbled as I grabbed an old rag, a bucket of water and the cup Varric offered me earlier.
"You don't know what-"
"Oh shut up." I hissed at the elf, as he continued his protests. I rung out the rag and lightly dabbed her forehead, then I carefully tipped the cup to her lips, hoping the dribble of water that went down would help subside the dry throat she'd get when she awoke.
"This is not a physical matter, the mark on her hand is killing her, I was helping, you are not." He growled behind me.
"She has a fever, ignoring that could kill her as sure as that mark."
"You meddle in things you don't understand." He said, desperation clear in his voice. I ignored him, this human was the only way so far that could help. Breaking her fever would surely bring her around. Funneling the little magic I knew, I made my hands as cold as ice and pressed them to her cheeks and neck, hoping they'd help to cool her. It was breaking her fever, when I felt her head a few minutes later, her colour was better and her temperature not half as hot.
"You'll get better, lethallan." I whispered as I dabbed her head again. Suddenly, she took in a sharp in take of breath and the mark on her hand shimmered.
"Run..." She choked out, before the light subsided and her breathing returned to normal. I stood back on my haunches in shock, and from the silence behind me, I could guess the elf was shocked too. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully now, her eyes moving behind her eyelids, her sleep was not so deep. Suddenly the silence was broken by the creak of a door and the rattling of metal boots and keys. I stood away from her, allowing chuckles to rush back to his patient as my eyes fell upon a hooded woman and two guards coming towards our cell. She said nothing, remaining a few feet away as the guards unlocked our cell door. It was then, the elf stood tall, a deep frown in his face.
"No." He said simply, every muscle in his body tense. The hooded woman looked up and I caught a glimpse of cold green eyes and red hair.
"We cannot wait forever, the breach grows with each passing second. We appreciate your help, Solas, but we have ran out of time." She said, her light Orlesian accent as cold as her eyes.
Solas, a name to put to a face, raised his chin even higher, his jaw flexing in frustration.
"If you move her, she could die." He said, his voice hard but restrained.
"That is a risk we must take." Replied the Orlesian, bidding her guards to take hold of the mystery human.
"You'll forgive me if I am not so willing to risk the only thing that may save us." Solas retorted, eyes still on the redhead. She ignored him, only nodding to her guards to follow once they had the unconscious woman in their arms.
"Are you sure this is a good idea..." I protested to the stranger, hearing a slight whimper and noticing the patients furrowed brow. The door was shut firmly in my face and before she spoke and she fixed her sterile green eyes on me. Her eyes were, or should be, beautiful. But all the emotion there was masked behind that indifferent scowl.
"Your guilt is still up for debate, Lavellan. Do not give us further reason to doubt your innocence." She said in a hushed voice that made my blood run cold, so much so that small flakes of snow appeared around me and ice spread out from my feet. A fleeting look of curiosity came over her before it was quickly subsided and she turned to follow her guards.
The three of us stood in a sort of stunned silence when she left with our patient and for once, it wasn't me who broke it.
"felas asha." Solas spat without remorse as he began to pace the small cell. "They know not what they do. They rush to fix this because they are scared and in doing so they have jeopardized the only salvation they have." He said bitterly. I turned to face him, my arms folded, his fatalistic attitude wearing on me greatly.
"We don't know that she could die. She may recover." I said, more to be contradictory than to comfort and his resulting glare at me told me he knew. It was then Varric that sighed, a tired and defeated noise from the corner of the room.
"Can't you elves just play nice for once."
I turned to face him, my glare falling from my face as there was something unintentionally profound in his words. Something that had sat like a thorn in my heart since I was a child. No, we elves couldn't get along. We looked down on each other because of something that may or may not mark our face. We were either wild savages or cowardly shadows who let themselves be trampled by humans. We could never seem to see the common factors between us. The fact that we both bore pointed ears and that we were both shunned by humans. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, my tongue automatically going to push at the gold piercing in my lip as I so often did when in thought. I looked over to Solas, who stood still with his lofty expression. His chin held high and eyes fixed on anything but me. Obviously he too had been affected by Varric's words. I smirked at his stubborn stance.
"Proud by name, proud by nature." I said with a tired laugh. He turned his eyes to me then and I felt his heavy scrutiny.
"My nature is not defined by my name, rather it is designed defined by my nature." He said cryptically and with a slight smugness that was immediately infuriating and secondly... Rather charming. I narrowed my eyes and chose to ignore him. I would not stay here to be bickered with. Again I tongued my piercing and paced towards the barred door.
"We need to get out." I said simply. Varric chuckled at my suggestion.
"I agree, but the chances of you getting out unharmed are slim to none."
I sighed, "I know, but I can't sit here doing nothing while people are out there dying. Sooner or later we'll be over run, we need to at least give them time to think up some sort of plan."
"Again I must reiterate the futility of your plan." Solas said, turning once more to sit rather defeatedly on the bench. In the low fire light and with such a grim expression on his face, I realised how old he actually was. Not ancient, but old- probably in his forties going by the lines at the corner of his eyes and on his forehead when he frowned like that.
"Futile it may be, but I am quite happy to be 'demon fodder', as you so tactfully put it, if it means others may live to solve this. Anyways, you've already deemed me unimportant and you are definitely not the first, may as well do something worthwhile with my unimportance. Go out with a bang and all that." I said, my voice sounding overly light, but I hoped they didn't realise.
"I never said you were unimportant." Solas said with finality, though the comment did little to subdue my rapidly fatalistic mood, dread wolf take him, but he did rub off on you. I smiled a bitter smile, a force of reality hitting me with a merciless thud.
"Oh but I am. If my clan had kicked me out a day earlier I'd be dead in that valley too. If I hadn't stopped in Redcliff for a night, if I didn't detour to put flowers on a strangers grave, I'd be dead. Just like the hundreds of other people. Normal innocent people, dead... Because of the Shem's and their blasted wars." I said bitterly, those tendrils of ice snaking their way from were I stood. I noticed Solas' brow furrow at the sight. Spontaneous magic was not something I supposed he'd be used to in his ivory tower. Though looking at his ramshackle attire, my circle mage theory seemed inaccurate. Perhaps I'd ask him about it later, perhaps we'd be dead, perhaps... Perhaps a miracle would happen and I might actually feel hopeful again... Well, only one way to find out. I sighed and gripped the iron hinges of the cell door, glaring at them for all I was worth, focussing my anger on them and willing the flames to come.
"Easy Trixy, might want to thing this through." Varric warned, but it was too late, the hinges melted away in bright orange rivulets and the door fell into my grasp, to avoid the raucous clatter it would undoubtedly cause. I smiled in satisfaction and turned to face my two cell mates. Varric was standing, knees bent nervously but there was a spark in his eyes, a longing for danger that I had never seem in a dwarf. Solas still looked at me curiously, his face less glum, more... Amused.