Disclaimer: We do not own Dragon Age or Elder Scrolls series
Co-Author and Beta: Etheral-23
Shadows and Crows
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Inside a dark tunnel, illuminated by flickering torches, echoed the footsteps of a lone robed figure as he walked at a quick pace, leather boots, stepping over the intricately designed geometrical tiles of dwarven made stone. The coattails of his outfit trailing behind him, he adjusted the collar of his coat to make himself as presentable as possible, carefully making sure the golden accent straps of his outfit were well adjusted.
The tunnel soon led him to an open chamber whereupon a large circular stone table laid, with a number of occupied chairs arranged perfectly over its circumference. The occupants were dressed in the same manner as him, the same dark coats with golden accents, sitting with perfect postures born from years of etiquette and practice.
The woman at the head of the table gave him an irritated glare with her golden eyes. "You're late" Her tone was clipped.
"Apologies, I had matters to attend at Denerim before I could leave" The man said, taking his place on the table. "I assure you, they were pressing"
"Nothing is more pressing than our current situation" The woman said, leaning forward with her gloved fingers interlocked. The glow of the candle next to her illuminating her golden skin. "The Dragonborn and her company have dealt with the problems plaguing Redcliffe, but from what our agents report, the Arl is unconscious and cannot be of assistance to them"
"So the lowborn abomination can't do everything can she?" A man scoffed from one side of the table.
Opposite his side a woman leaned forward; "Never underestimate that woman. Many of our fallen thought the same, including our Lady Arannelya. And all of them were reduced to nothing but ashes engulfed from the dragon fire." Her tone was a steely grim as she and the others recalled vividly the events of thirty years ago.
All their plans, goals, and achievements brought to ruin by the hands of the one chosen of Akatosh, her rage of dragons, and a reinvigorated Empire. Nor did they bitterly account that their own kin would turn on them like they did and leave them to their fates. For all they had fought, bleed, and sacrificed their own people labelled THEM as monsters! None of them could see the grand design for they had for their people.
"And because of our hubris now here we remain," the woman continued bitterly; "Our glorious order turned into scampering rats hiding in a backwater continent of degenerates."
"Your anger is justified but we must not be careless now," a man spoke beside the woman at the head of the table; "We must-"
"Eliminate the Dragonborn," the woman at the head of the table interrupted. "Her undead whore and her accursed offspring."
The man at her side sharply peered towards her; "That's your anger talking. We need to be rational."
"Oh I am being very rational Ondolemar."
"Are you now, Elenwen?" The altmer male quipped with an accusing tone. "Will our plan be to send assassins after them? Even without taking into account the terrible powers she and her family wield, right now they are traveling in an ever growing party. No, we must arrange for them to be in a disadvantageous position. Disrupt their activities; make them clash against the Darkspawn while weakened"
A softer, more sensible voice of an altmeri woman at the other side of the table spoke. "Perhaps we should take advantage of the situation in Redcliffe, and assassinate their arl. He's their most important tool in the Ferelden nobility"
"That accursed dragon-blood is insufferably resourceful" Elenwen addressed with loathing. "Removing the arl is a temporary setback at best; they will still find ways to battle the Darkspawn. We need to confront her directly"
"We risk revealing our presence" Another altmer male argued, "The empire will-"
Elenwen slammed a hand on her table hard, making her displeasure at their proposals clear with the growing edge of her voice. "All I hear are spineless proposals, we have the chance to end her and we should take it, then we can-!"
"We can 'what', exactly?"
A new voice made itself known; it was heavy, coarse, and throaty. Enough to make the hairs on the back of their necks stand. The neigh-ghostly figure of an astral projection manifested itself on top of the middle of the circular table. He scowling visage of a long haired high elf dressed in the finest of robes with a hood, they felt his stare at all of them with all respect and scathing promise of retribution one would give a clumsy wine-pouring servant who had stained their clothing.
Immediately, all the altmer stood up at attention. "M-My lord" Even the proud Elenwen found it in herself to lower her tone. "We did not expect you to attend our meeting"
"An imperial exploration vessel has made landfall in Antiva. That sort of thing tends to draw my attention" The projected altmer replied aridly with a flair of elegant mock in his voice.
"We... did send reports of their presence, my lord" Ondolemar carefully said.
"And I have read them thoroughly, particularly the part about the Dragonborn being in this gods forsaken continent" His spectral eyes narrowed. "And yet you argue amongst each other instead of awaiting my orders"
Elenwen swallowed, "We have it under control, my lord"
"Oh do you?"
The altmer woman avoided his gaze.
"Plotting against the Dragonborn means leaving Ferelden to be consumed by the Darkspawn" Their master mused to himself, "It would a waste of the time and resources we poured here, it seems our hands are tied" The astral figure put his arms behind his back; "For now we do nothing. The end of the Blight takes precedence."
"The mongrel human nobles fight amongst themselves my lord," The Altmer who was late arriving addressed; "Teyrn Loghain has the entire nation upside down on account of old grudges." Elenwen glared as the man glanced to her; "He truly believes Orlais is plotting against Ferelden and using the darkspawn as cover."
"Hmm, the man reminds of Ulfric in a way," their lord causally remarked with barely an ounce of interest. "But far more paranoid than that nord was yes?"
The man nodded; "Indeed, he barely trusts his own advisor Rendon Howe. But at the current state, unless the regent is brought to heel the darkspawn will tear Ferelden apart without effort."
"I highly doubt the Dragonborn and her company will allow that. And that will be our stance, for now we keep back and watch. No action is to be taken against her."
"My lord!" Elenwen raised her voice in protest.
"I have spoken" their leader addressed with finality. "Do not bring the Dragonborn's attention to us. Those are your orders"
Without waiting for a reply, their leader's projection vanished from sight.
The Thalmor council let out a collective breath, and sat down once more.
"Well" Ondolemar said with a long sigh, "I suppose that's that"
As her fellows continued discussing how to shift their operations in the middle of the Blight, Elenwen could only scowl in loathing, memories of the dragon fire burning her previously scarred skin flashing through her mind. The pain, the burning sensation enveloping her, and with it the searing hate she had for the one who had taken everything from them.
No... This was not the end of it. Not yet.
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When Sarya returned to Castle Redcliffe with her mentor Alfe in tow, she found the place to be buzzling with frantic activity. Knights and guards running from one place to another, their officers barking orders.
"Well" The white haired daughter/clone of Fyr mused to herself, "It seems we arrive at a bad time"
"Oh dear, what now?" Her apprentice tiredly said as they walked towards the great hall, the presence of another grey skinned elf not even batting an eye from the busy guards.
They found Teagan shouting orders to a knight, Marcus standing next to him with a grim expression. "I want the village searched top to bottom! If you have to uproot the buildings to find him, do it!"
The knight saluted, "Yes sir!" And departed.
"What happened?" Both men turned to see Sarya who came to their side with her master.
The Bann growled with irritation; "Jowan has escape his cell."
Miara's and Serana's daughter gawked; "Would that be the foolish lad who poisoned your brother?" Alfe questioned
"The very same Master Alfe," Marcus quipped crossing his arms; "From what could guess during the chaos of several days ago he was not fed magebane with his meals."
"Magebane?"
Sarya glanced to her teacher; "A sort of poison here that works only on mages making them unable to wield magic." Her teacher let out a simple 'Oh', indicating her understanding.
Teagan begun to paced; "He likely used a sleeping spell on the guard before melting the lock on his cell."
"Great..." Sarya shook her head before properly introducing her teacher. "This is my master, Alfe Fyr"
"Magister of House Telvanni and High Mage of the Morrowind Court" The older dunmer's voice was the epitome of high class.
"Bann Teagan" The human lord introduced himself, "Brother to Arl Eamon"
"So I've heard" Alfe simply replied, "Now, I believe I should take a look at your brother"
"Yes, right his way please"
As he led the mage away, Sarya looked at Marcus who tiredly rubbed his neck. "So, I imagine Brianna is taking it well"
"She has not yet set anything ablaze, so we should count our blessings"
Well, there was that at least; "The others are also looking but nothing has turned up." The Cousland sighed; "This will be a delay before we can go to Kinloch Hold."
"Not too long though," Sarya countered; "Master and I need all the help we can get with Eamon. And some of the mages might know what poison was used on the Arl. Remember, just because I froze him in time does not mean we should relax our efforts."
Marcus gave a nod; "You are correct." He ran his hand over his hair; "About the only one relieved Jowan escaped was Neria."
"Figured as much, girl has a heart of gold."
"To be honest, we will not be able to continue the hunt for long. The knights have orders to look stop at a ten mile radius if they couldn't find him, and come back. We just don't have the manpower to spare" He motioned for the dunmer to follow him.
The two walked off towards Eamon's bedroom. "We can't all go the Circle. At least I can't, I'm more useful here watching over the Arl"
"I'm aware" Marcus agreed, "We're leaving a few of us behind to look after the arl, afterwards, we'll reconvene. At least with you here we'll have a direct line of communication"
"Who shall be staying?"
"The golem, um, Shale I mean" He quickly corrected himself. The great stone warrior made it clear it did not appreciate being called 'golem'. "Will remain. Honestly, it... he said it's tedious to remain in one place as a guard, but he doesn't want to go to a tower full of mages. Sten shares the sentiment, so he'll be staying here as well"
"No surprise there" Sarya muttered.
"Along with Theron"
That made the mage stop, "Wait, Theron too?"
"Surprised me too" Marcus shrugged, "He actually wants to talk to Teagan. Get him to start arming the elves and let them be trained by him for the militia"
Upon hearing that Sarya gave the former noble a look; "I do remember reading about the weapon's ban on the elves in every alienage of these lands or face purging when I looked over the Ferelden and Chantry law. What the hell..."
"Your mother asked the same when she was at Highever. My father and Aldous could never find when exactly that rule was established but he had been trying to abolish it for years with no success." Marcus quipped with mild frustration; "Everyone has the right to defend themselves in times like these."
Sarya gave a side glance to the man; "Was this before or after you falling in love with Iona?"
Marcus could see where this question was coming from; "Before, my father was always a proactive man working for the betterment of Ferelden's citizens."
"Something he instilled in his son I see," the Telvanni smirked. She could see why her elven mother liked this family.
Marcus's gaze grew distant; "Both his sons." He shifted his gaze to Sarya who patted his arm.
"Your brother will be alive, and we will find him."
"Thank you" He gave her a grateful nod, "But enough, we still have a lot of work ahead of us"
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Gin could honestly say he quite liked Faren, the dwarven rogue was proving himself to be his kin in spirit ever since they met a few days ago. From his dry wit and his nimble fingers, the city elf could find many things to bond over with the dwarf. Particularly shiny and valuable looking things that fit right in their pockets. As a... surveillance patrol they took through the castle, and into the arl's office, provided.
He was a rich shem; he wouldn't be missing a few of these. One didn't look all that valuable upon closer inspection, an old necklace that had clearly been broken before, and though it looked like they went through great lengths to piece it together, there was no hiding the cracks on it.
Was it wrong to steal from their ally, their sick ally?
Probably. But he knew a few elves in the slums could benefit more from the money those trinkets could get them.
With practiced ease, Gin walked as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. Though perhaps he didn't need to keep up appearances, the guards were all just giving him respectful nodes. Obviously his Warden gear reminded them this knife ear helped save their town. He wondered if they'd look so cordial were he to take it off, would they even recognize him without it?
His musings came to a stop as he reached the castle's stables, and spotted the Senior Warden standing there. Alistair was looking oddly nostalgic.
The former Templar's shone with memories of the past before a hand patting his back returned him to the present. "You doing okay my friend?" A grin formed on Alistair's lips peering to his side to see Gin. "Think that is the first time in the last few days I saw you smiling."
"Just remembering simpler times." Alistair pointed to the stables; "Used to sleep here as a child with the dogs."
That... Gin wasn't sure if that could be called a fond memory; "Eamon had you living in the stable? Even when you were an infant?"
"Of course not," the former Templar reproached; "Used to live in the castle before he married Isolde. Since she thought I was her husband's son I somehow was a slight on her honor. Never understood why she could hate a child, but Eamon relented and I ended up here." He saw the wide eyed look from his elven friend; "Wasn't all bad."
"It is amazing to me how you're not all bitter about that."
"Oh, I was. I was angry for a long time. But figured out being angry only makes you miserable and hateful. I don't want to be that kind of person."
"And now you're a master of the dry wit" Gin added good naturedly with a bit of his own brand of dryness.
"Such an underappreciated art. Truly, our services are not valued enough" The two chuckled as Gin playfully bumped his shoulder with his fist. "Although from what I've seen, I got it better than a lot of orphans. And certainly better than, um, well..." He trailed off awkwardly.
"Elves?" Gin finished with half a smile, "Yeah, you certainly did. But still, how that woman treated you. That was very uncalled for" Particularly with how the arl couldn't even tell the truth to his wife just to make the lad's life more bearable. It was disgraceful.
Alistair let out a sigh, "Look, I'm used to it. But I'm happy with the direction my life took, as a Warden; I found my lot in life"
The shaggy haired elf's lips pursed. "The 'lot' that's about to be taken from you"
"...Yeah" The Warden muttered, taking a few steps forward as he leaned on the stable's wooden fence.
"How are you feeling?" Gin gently asked as he approached.
Alistair shook his head as he exhaled slightly, "All my life I grew up knowing, pretty much being told, the throne wasn't mine. That my heritage shouldn't be mine. And now, they suddenly expect me to take the blasted chair"
"Marcus and Teagan seem dead set on putting you on that damn chair."
"Just because Theirin blood runs in my veins doesn't it mean I'll be some great king;" Alistair scoffed "But I don't any real say in any of this. If anyone is expecting a proper heir they will be sorely disappointed"
Gin crossed his arms; "Think we could convince those two to change their mind?"
Alistair snorted; "Highly doubt it, but thanks for caring."
"What friends do."
Alistair leaned back against the fence, crossing his arms, a contemplative look in his eyes. "I guess I just... I was just feeling nostalgic because of how much things are changing for me. Again" He said. "I have to get used to the thought that eventually, the palace will be my home. Not the barracks, not a tent on the floor while on the road, and certainly not this place" Alistair softly said, his light brown eyes softly shifting to the stable, and palmed the fence he rested on.
"This was your home once" Gin understood, he really did. The Alienage was not the best place to live, by a longshot, but it was still the place he, his friends and family all grew up in. It was hard saying goodbye to it, even with all the hardships that laid there. "You don't have anything to keep, as souvenir maybe?"
The senior Warden exhaled, regret evident in his eyes. "There was... something once. An amulet, Eamon said it belonged to my mother" His gaze grew downcast as he ran a hand through his short locks. "One time, I was so angry with him, with Maric, with my mother, that I just... threw it, and shattered it into a hundred pieces" His voice was mournful, berating the idiocy of his youth. "Stupid, stupid mistake that was..."
A thought came to Gin for a moment; "What did your mother's amulet look like?"
"It was Andraste's Flame on a silver chain." Alistair paused before glancing to his friend; "Why do you ask?"
The elf's face turned sheepish opening one of his many pockets to pull out a silver chain that held a pendant with the engraving of Andreste's flame. Alistair's eyes grew wide as he noticed it numerous cracks all over. "T-that's... How?"
"I uh," Gin weakly chuckled before sighing; "Faren and I had gotten a bit handsy with all shiny and likely very expensive decor all over the castle. We just 'borrowed' some small pieces and found this in the arl's desk."
However shock only remained on Alistair's face, staring solely at the amulet. His hands begun to move on their own as they moved towards the object in Gin's hands. The elf said nothing, nor did nothing letting his friend take it from his hand. The former Templar stared at the amulet; "H-he fixed it."
"Maybe..." Gin ran his hand through his hair; "Maybe he did care in his own way." A callous man would never had taken the time to repair such a trinket. Let alone himself when a lord could have servants do it for him. He wouldn't say Eamon was a good man; a good man does not toss a child to live in a stable. But he wasn't outright bad either, complicated would maybe sum up the Arl of Redcliffe.
Least he wasn't anywhere as cruel and vile as Vaughn or his father.
"All this time and..." He clutched to the amulet tightly, yet gently. And smiled at Gin with outmost gratitude. "Thank you. I... I don't know how to repay you"
"You don't need to" Gin smiled in turn, "I'm just glad I was able to do something for you"
The senior Warden placed a hand on Gin's shoulder, giving firm squeeze in an act of camaraderie, which the elf welcomed. Gin could honestly say Alistair was the one of the kindest humans he's ever met, who deserved far more than his current lot in life. But as an elf, Gin also knew a lot of times life was uncaring to such things like as fairness. Perhaps he had been fooling himself to think Alistair could still get a choice in the matter, or that his voice would be taken into account. But at least he was happy to have given his friend some comfort.
"You are going to put return everything you two stole though, you hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah" Gin drawled in return, knowing he'd have to comply after this moment.
"You know" As the elf walked away, he heard Alistair muse to himself. "One good thing about being king, maybe I'll get a say in how elves live"
At that Gin stopped peering back. Emotion ran over his gaze; "You might be the first human I actually believe would do that for us." But Gin knew it wouldn't happen, not with many of the nobility and common Shems who hate elves. None of them would ever allow the elves of Thedas to be any more than beneath their feet.
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Miara's red eyes take in the vast splendor that was the Hinterlands; "These lands are so beautiful."
Strolling beside her was young Marcus with Loke as they made their way towards Horse Master Dennet's home. Due to their growing band it was agreed they would need more horses for their members to travel. As Bodahn's simple wagon could not carry them all, Shale especially. Thus Teagan directed them to the 'greatest horse master in all of Thedas'.
"Compare to anything back in Tamriel?"
The Dunmer nodded; "Cyrodiil and High Rock without question."
"Nothing good to say about the rest?"
"Oh plenty of good to say in fact, but Ferelden's similarities end with those two I mentioned. Tamriel is wild, and despite our efforts it will never be fully tamed. In most of the nations, people live at the edge where civilization and the natural dangers meet. In Skyrim it snows all year round in the most northern regions, and in the rest it snows for nine months"
"That sounds dreadful" Marcus replied with grimace, "Even Ferelden at its coldest winters does not have that much snow. Winter is already upon us, the southern lands where Ostagar lies and beyond must already be covered in white"
"I suppose it has been rather chilly lately" The dark elf shrugged.
"I dread to see what you'd call cold" The Cousland quipped good naturedly.
Miara barked a laugh, "I just grew used to it after years of living so far north. Nothing but cold and hardy people there"
"Whereas our cold lands are in the south, filled with their own wild folks"
A thought occurred to her, "You say the Sunless Lands are inhabited by many wildlings and tribes. With the Blight having emerged from the south, they have must been wounded by the horde. Do you believe we could recruit aid from the tribes?"
"So far south?" Marcus said a touch incredulously. "It'd involve going straight through the horde's path. Not to mention only the tribes there actually know the land, we'd be traveling blind. That's not even taking into account if we can actually rally the wildlings, they don't have the best relationship with the north"
"How bad?"
Marcus thought for a moment; "Nothing like a war or anything, but there has been a few rough skirmishes here and there."
The elf winced as her ears dipped; "Well it was a thought." She patted Loke's head as he came close.
"Wasn't wrong to ask, but many circumstances make it impossible. Besides old grudges. Trust would be a large issue with the tribes and the Ferelden."
A nod came from Miara as the duo plus hound walked; "Speaking of trust, I am grateful you've put great deal of trust in me and my family."
"As I said, going as far you did to protect my family and fighting in Ostagar. No spy would go that far for their mission. And when leaving Highever, that man...Kodlak?" The Dragonborn nodded he said it right; "He told me, mother, Iona, and the kids a lot about you. And your not so easy relationship at the beginning with the Companions."
"...Oh sweet Azura," the dunmer mumbled, rubbing her eyes; "How much did he actually say?"
"Well you certainly were a... controversial topic, he said" The noble born human said with mirth in his voice. "You did not make friends easy there"
"The inner Circle, for the most part, was full of assholes" Though she did not carry the anger she did back then, the very antagonizing attitude Aela and Vilkas had with her was a particularly annoying memory. "They did not like an 'outsider' getting so close to their group without pledging to them"
"And by getting close you mean..."
"I hung around the most amicable of their guild, went on quests with them... and I was also sleeping with one of the Inner Circle members. Brother to another member I should add"
"Of course" Marcus drawled, doing a valiant effort to keep his eyes from rolling.
"I was a better warrior than most of them, Kodlak acknowledged as much, which served to make a few of them even angrier"
One moment she would forever remember vividly was when she finally had enough of Aela, and challenged her before the whole guild to a duel. She made a point of humiliating the nord, show her how much a difference was between the two... and then she transformed.
Miara had disarmed her, drove her to the ground and proceed to walk away without even given her another glance, make her understand her smug attitude, her skills as a warrior, her claims to a long heritage of warrior maidens, meant nothing to her. And in her rage, Aela lost herself to her animal spirit and became a werewolf. Muscles growing and bones snapping, reforming and enlarging as her attire shredded and fur grew everywhere, as the woman's face became a ferocious wolf.
Not the best way to find the Companions harbored werewolves among their ranks.
Thankfully, it had all been inside Jorrvaskr's grounds, away from prying eyes and ears, regardless of the Huntress' roars no alarm was raised. It was also fortunate that Kodlak had been there to put Aela in her place as the alpha of the pack. Forcing her to stand down before she tried to maul Miara to shreds in a haze of blind fury.
In the time back Miara had known Kodlak that was the rarest of moment she had even seen the old Nord warrior genuinely enraged. Never had she heard the man giving a hollering like he had done Aela for her letting her pride and anger getting the better of her. It was after that that the elf sat down with the late former Harbinger discussing the hidden truths about the Companions inner Circle and their lycanthropy.
She was sworn to secrecy but had not spoken to Companions, or visited any of them for over a week.
"Things never really simmered down once I officially joined them. Farkas was just happy I did join," warmth came to her voice as she still cared deeply for the old oaf.
Marcus cocked a brow; "Farkas?"
"That brother I was sleeping with, his twin Vilkas never liked me anymore than Aela the Huntress. Sadly it took us losing an inner circle member, Skjor, and Kodlak to a group called the Silver Hand for us to even become cordial with one another." The elf shook her head; "It hurts some times that it took a tragedy to turn us into friends."
They all had been fools acting like spiteful children, unwilling to see Kodlak's guidance. She did not get involved when Aela and the Skjor hunted down the Silver Hand for a twist of ironic sport, she honestly did not care.
It was when she saw Kodlak's cold body on the ground, did she join them in their quest for revenge. They managed to make amends at the time, joined by their common vendetta.
And then they read Kodlak's journal, and found of his prophetic dreams... that had not made things any easier, but they respected his wishes. Despite Miara's previous insults to Ysgrammor, the horrid elf-killer, and what he stood for. Even went as far as to reclaim that accursed axe for them, once its purpose was done she left it in their hands. They could have their relic for all she cared; she wanted nothing to do with the weapon that made her hands feel on fire whenever her skin touched the shaft.
Things had gotten... better, between them through the years. Baring over the occasional incidents and disagreements, particularly with Aela. Who had been vocally critical of Farkas and Vilkas choosing to cast away Hircine's gift of beast hood.
Aela begrudgingly understood that walking the path of Hircine's beasts was not what the brothers had truly wanted in the end. But still offered the 'gift' to anyone who wanted it. Outside of the huntresses own daughters, only very few took the beasts blood happily for its power. But as the new Harbinger, Miara made sure they understood the choice they made and its consequences.
Things grew slightly better when the Dunmer had discovered the totems of Hircine. Sacred items of the Daedric Prince that the huntress had been long searching all over Skyrim for many years. As well as helping Aela delivering her daughter Ylva, but by the gods having a pregnant werewolf going into labor was not something she wanted to see again.
"Well," Marcus spoke slowly; "despite it all Kodlak saw a lot of potential in you. Why he chose you as the next Harbinger."
Miara chuckled; "Still think he was crazy, but I respected him too much not to contest his final wishes. And managing that group wasn't so bad. I even led them in defending Whiterun from the Stormcloaks when the civil war grew more intense."
And gave Aela the chance to get involved in the war she so much wanted.
"There is something I don't understand" The Cousland said with a questioning tone, "He called you 'pup', but you say you're over a hundred. So how..."
At that, Miara laughed brightly. "Oh that was an inside joke between us. A lot of humans either ignore or are uncomfortable with the fact some elves are generations their senior. The Companions were all used to calling him 'the old man', most of the folk there had trouble understanding I was decades older than him"
"I still have trouble wrapping my mind around it" Marcus confessed.
Elven lifespan to humans was a subject of both envy and disgust. The experience that came to older elves could be much greater than any human could achieve with the less of a century. But at the same time humans couldn't grasp what it was to live so long, they did not find it 'natural'.
"How do you deal with it? I mean, you have people dear to you who do not share your lifespan. Don't you ever... fear what it means outliving so many?"
"That implies elves have the same outlook that humans do. Which I don't" Miara simply replied, "Sure. I will mourn those who pass as I go on. But it's simply the way things are"
She lets those words sink in before continuing; "Outside of the Thedosian Mer and Orcs, humans and beastfolk; the rest of the Mer of Nirn view the world very differently because of our long lifespans. We are simply more accepting of the fact regarding the lifespan of the other races. And if there are those who grow dear to us, knowing we will eventually outlive them, we just enjoy all the moments we share with them. Through the good times and the bad," she explained warmly.
That made sense in a way to the former noble. It was likely the only means for which the long-lived elves could keep moving forward despite losing people over their lifetime. Or perhaps it went deeper than that and he just didn't have an elf's perspective to understand it.
"Not sure if I could handle something like that," Marcus lamented.
"I have quite a few human friends who expressed the same."
Marcus chewed on the inner part of his mouth before asking; "But Sofie..." He immediately regretted asking as he saw his elven friend closing her eyes; "I shouldn't have asked that. I'm sorry"
"It's alright," The elf spoke with a faint crack in her voice; "Believe me I'll be inconsolable if anything were to ever happened to my beautiful daughter. Even old age."
Marcus was giving her a sympathetic look and just dropped the subject.
She was always good at lying.
She honestly did not know what would be of Sofie's lifespan, certainly longer than the average human. But even then, the concept of a physical death was not really much of an issue with their family, considering they would just go to mother's realm. This was not exactly unreachable to them.
Come to think of it; Was Alandro even 'alive' as mortals understood? Had her brother left his physical body? And Rathuni had explained to her sister that she was an ageless immortal. Miara was certain her mortal vessel was just that, a vessel to manifest on the mortal world. It was limiting compared to her full unleashed self, such as risking blowing out her own throat if she shouted too much in a short time, but it was the only way she could live among them.
It saddened her sometimes, that she could no longer count herself among the mortals.
XxX ~ xx ~ XxX
"Well that went better than I thought," Miara mumbled leaving the horse master's home after a long discussion with Dennet who was quite the pleasant fellow. "Then again I got into a brawl with a horse master in Skyrim."
Marcus gave the elf a long look; "I'm sorry?"
"Hofgrir bragged being not only the best horse master in Riften but the best fist fighter in all of Skyrim and I challenged that. We ended up inside the Hold and I knocked him out an into Lake Honrich at the docks." A deadpan came from the young former noble; "Never had to pay for a horse ever again from him."
Let it be known that while Hofgrir Horse-Crusher is and will always be an insufferable ass, he is a fair Nord. Which is rather an achievement considering where he lives.
"...Do you ever have a normal day?" Marcus was genuinely curious of that. His question was met with a long dry stare from the elf; "Never mind."
"You have met and have been in the company of my youngest daughter. Does anything about her seem remotely normal?"
"Point taken." Loke barked as if agreeing with his master.
As they continued their trek back to Redcliffe, Miara this time observed with more detail the town located on the Crossroads. The houses were intact, and the people here didn't seem to have been hit as hard as the arl's village was. "Seems this place was more fortunate"
"There are a few cave systems nearby, the townsfolk were quick to evacuate there" Marcus explained, "It helps that most of the undead horde was focused on Redcliffe, if there was no one on their path, they just continued on" The same could not be said for other hamlets, only the those closest to Fort Connor could seek refuge behind its walls. The rest had to take refuge someplace else, from some of the reports he read some had taken to camp in the high hills, away from the horde's main advancement.
Miara nodded absently as her eyes caught sight of a familiar building, large and with a wooden sign in the form of a full tankard. "Oh a tavern" She said with interest.
"Hankering for a drink?" Marcus smiled mirthfully, "Curious, most people say Ferelden beer is worse than poison"
"Oh I've come to learn that myself" Gods above that was the worst drink she ever had... "But every tavern has their own uniqueness to them. I make it a point of always trying out every new place I find" She smiled fondly as she remembered one in particular, where they put thin apple slices in the ale to give it an extra flavor. "It's a hobby of mine"
"From what Sarya told me, some of your hobbies involve criminal activity"
"Do not argue morality with a dragon, they'll laugh at your views before setting you on fire and eat you. Thankfully, I am more... tampered with instincts. I may not sleep in piles of gems and gold, but I am very fond of my spirits"
One heard those stories about dragons hoarding shiny objects of value, but to hear about the great flying reptiles also having a taste for alcohol was a new... though after seeing Odahviing down the whole barrels of mead Redcliffe gave him as offerings, he did not doubt it.
"Go ahead, I'll just head back to Redcliffe" The Cousland said as they parted ways, Miara waving at him before going towards the tavern.
Out of all the few buildings at the Crossroads, the Tavern was looked the most posh and well designed. Likely the owner was hoping for all kinds of travelers to stop by for alcohol, warm meals, and beds for the night, and happily spend their money there. "The BIG Druffalo," Miara muttered gazing up at the sign above the door. "Well, their stuff cannot be as bad as the swill at Denerim."
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Inside the tavern was a decent amount of tables and chairs for as many as twenty or so customers. The bar was modest but well-crafted with all manners of alcohol on display behind it. At present there were at least twelve people including the barkeep sitting around either eating or drinking.
Or at the very least pretending they were...
The atmosphere within the tavern was far too tense, and the patrons were all too stiff, uncomfortable. Not relaxed like one should be when coming to a pub and seeking a hot meal and alcohol for long day of work or travel. About the only person not acting out of character was rather handsome elven man with tan skin with a tattoo on his face. Long blond hair that was braided, adorned in simple hard leathers. His green eyes were lively as he waved over to her; "So the tales were true, gray elves." His voice was richly accented, it had a very alluring tone to it. Much like Leliana's own voice.
"The world is full of surprised," Miara spoke walking passed the other patrons to the fellow elf's table; "Miara Redoran."
"Zevran Arainai."
"Yours is a lovely accent" The dunmer said, giving him a well-practiced easy smile. The man was far too relaxed for the ambient in the tavern, the only one who looked calm in fact. Not to mention the fact he his leathers were well crafted armor, and had a few well-placed knives and daggers strapped over his person.
"As lovely as the exotic sight before me" He gave her his own charming smile, and invited him to take a seat in front of him.
Miara took it, getting comfortable and resting her elbows on the table. "You don't look from these parts"
"And you'd be right my dear, I am from the ever beautiful land of Antiva" He said with an exaggerated flourish. "A land of culture and passion, not this... mudded land that smells of wet dog"
The men sitting at the bar behind Miara grew tenser.
Miara chuckled, "I'll grant you Ferelden sometimes smells bad, but there is still much beauty aplenty"
"So far the only beauty I've seen is you, my dear" He winked.
He was good, and in another time perhaps she would have liked to have fun with him. Although he clearly was in command of these poorly trained mercs who couldn't act regular to save their lives.
Out of the corner of her eyes she could see a few having their hands already near their hidden weapons. Oh by the sweet Divines she had faced down Forsworn leagues more professional than these amateurs. Likely all of them just came for a quick score of money and not remotely caring about anything else. These were the bottom feeder type of mercenaries that always irritated the dunmer, no proper technique, no real challenge.
No real morals or honor, just in it for the gold, whores, or violence. All three sometimes depending on the wretch...
But not the young man in front of her. He is a professional, but not of the mercenary kind. How he sits, talks, gestures with his hands; every movement was precise and measured. Well, well; Loghain is playing quite the hand. Or perhaps it that lowly snake Rendon. Hmm, this feels more like his doing than the 'regent' of Ferelden. From what she heard the hero of River Dane was far too straight forward for something like this. But then again he did send an assassin after Eamon.
From her first opinion of Loghain, he would much rather face an enemy head on instead of from the shadows. But old hatreds can make many noble men do questionable deeds.
"So," Miara laced her fingers together as she leaned forward. Zevran had quite the view of the exposed top of her endowed bosom; "Will all the idiots behind me wait for your signal or just come lunging at me with their hidden blades?"
Though he managed to keep his eyes from widening too much, the gesture did not go unnoticed. "What? Oh my dear do not be so paranoid" He lifted his arms in a shrugging gesture. "It is true these folk are under my command, but we are just mercenaries looking for work. We figured the good folk of Redcliffe could use more hands"
"Really?" Miara arched an eyebrow.
"Why of course" He placed a hand on his chest as if making a solemn vow. Of course, his hand was all too close to a knife strapped in. "After we heard of the undead, we figured we could be of use, for a moderate fee of course. I'm sure the good bann is doing all he can after his poor brother was assassinated"
"Hmm" Miara pursed her lips. "Where did you hear that?"
"Well, on the road of course"
"After just a couple of days?" The dunmer prodded. "With the Redcliffe knights and nobility doing everything they could to keep the information secret?"
Zevran paused for a moment, "Some news travel fast"
"And did that news fail to inform you the arl was alive?"
The tanned elf froze.
Miara smirked. Right on the mark. "You came here informed that the arl would be dead, weren't you?"
Zevran said nothing.
The grey elf leaned just a bit closer, "You weren't sending here for the arl, were you?"
As the antivan elf remained silent, the rest of the assassins of the bar ever slowly brandished their weapons.
Miara grinned and winked at him.
Zevran quickly took out the knife strapped to the side of his armor, and lunged at the dunmer over the table.
With a swift burst of magic, he was thrown back all the way to the wall, where he hit his head. As he fell to the ground, he saw the elven woman standing up just as his assassins threw themselves at her, before his vision went completely dark.
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Zevran both lowly groaned and hissed feeling the sting on the back of his head. Oh that was going to leave a mark. He started to move his hands but stopped realizing both his wrists were quite close together.
"Ah, finally waking up handsome?" His eyes shot open as gazed at the face of a smiling Miara; "Wondered how hard I hit you with that spell."
The Antivan Crow gazed down at himself as saw he was still sitting where he landed, save only his hands were bound in front of him. All his weapons were now at the gray elf's side as she sat cross-legged in front of him. In her hand she idly held a bottle with the label Aqua Magus; "This was about the only good alcohol in this place." She grumbled casually taking a sip.
His eyes soon etched in shock at the sight of all the corpses of his hired mercenaries lying about the now partially destroyed tavern. Heads, arms, legs laid about as blood coated parts of the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Slowly his gaze returned the dunmeri woman who dryly stared back; "I can count a few who would not have seen your ruse for what it was and may have worked. But from one professional to another, this was horribly amateur."
The Crow also took note that there was not a single drop of blood on the elven woman sitting in front of him.
Zevran groaned as he positioned himself to rest his back against the wall, he wasn't hurting as much as he should have really, oddly enough. "Just my luck the woman I tried to ambush is familiar with the business"
"More than familiar, darling" Miara quipped as she took another sip.
The tavern's door was opened with great force, as her companions barged in. The Wardens taking the lead, pausing momentarily at the sight of the carnage around them.
"Oh for- I leave you alone for a while and THIS happens?" Marcus exclaimed, exasperation dripping from his voice.
"Just another Tirdas" Sofie muttered, uncaring that she stepped in some blood.
"You got my message. Good" Miara casually said as she waved at the elf before her with the bottle in hand. "My friends, this is Zevran. Zevran, these are my friends"
"Pleasure" The tattooed elf replied with just a small bit of enthusiasm.
"He tried to kill me"
"Alright, not a pleasure to meet you then" Oryrn spoke up, taking exception to someone trying to kill one of his mothers.
Serana let out a soft sigh as she sat next to Miara, "Perhaps some context might be required, my dear?"
"Why I was waiting for you guys" She waved her arms at the bloodied tavern. "These people? Someone sent them. For what? I can only assume. So I thought we should all be present to hear an explanation from our friend here"
"Oh, am I to be tortured?" Zevran quipped, resting his arms on his knees. "Going right to the hardcore foreplay I see"
"We can always skip to the execution" Marcus firmly spoke, crossing his arms over his chest. "Talk"
Zevran's smile fell. "Not a fun audience I see. Well, perhaps I should start by clarifying that I am, indeed, an assassin. I work for the Antivan Crows"
Leliana's blue eyes widened, "The Crows? They are one of the most dangerous assassin's guild in all of Thedas"
"Lovely," Gin's voice dripped with sarcasm. A low grunt came from Sten at his side.
"Aldous told me a bit of what he knew about them," Miara addressed; "Originally an arm of the Chantry in the beginning."
Zevran nodded; "Quite right. We clearly fell from such prestige a long time ago."
"How about we get to the point as to who hired you?" Alistair spoke with mild anger to his tone.
"Ah, that would be Teyrn Rendon Howe, once he learned all of you had survived Ostagar. He convinced the regent that a quiet method would be preferable in killing you all."
Neria only stared wide eyed at the man; "How can you talk so causal about murdering people?"
"When being an assassin, my dear flower, murder is somewhat required for the job."
"As well as a lack of morality," Theron quipped giving his fellow elf a look; "You're being rather oddly forthcoming."
"I was not paid for my silence, only for my services"
Brianna's gaze hardened, bringing things back on topic. "So you were hired to kill us you said?"
"That was the plan, yes. Once night fell me and my now life-deprived companions" He waved at the corpses, "were to sneak into Redcliffe and take you out"
"Thank you for being so cooperative" Marcus gracefully said. "Now I'm going to kill you" His hand went to his sword and swiftly drew it. None of his companions stopped him as he walked closer to the elf.
"If you kill me now, you won't be ready next time the Crows come for you" The elf commented with all the ease of someone who was merely checking his nails.
That made the noble born man stop. "What are you talking about?"
He barked a laugh, throwing his head back as he did. "You think the Crows will stop just because my plan failed? Oh no, no, no, my dashing looking friend. A contract is a contract" Zevran grinned. "I failed because the lovely goddess right there just happened to find us. She was quite lucky"
"Got my aunt's luck" Miara quipped.
Literally.
"You know what fine people like you could use?" The tattooed elf lifted a finger, as if happening upon a great idea. "Someone who knows the Crows inside and out, someone who knows their operatives personally, and how they work. Someone who can spot when those carrions draw near"
Morrigan gave the elf an incredulous stare; "You wish to go from being hired to assassinate us to joining us?"
"Why not?"
"I could mention a few reasons;" Sereda spoke dryly.
Sten pointed out; "And who is to say you will not attempt to complete your contract."
"As if the elf could even harm me," Shale scoffed.
Zevran pointed right at Miara; "Because this woman terrifies me more than either one of you and I never want to get on her bad side ever again."
"Smart," Serana smirked.
"I would much rather happily be her personal pleasure servant for the rest of my days."
Both Miara and Serana deadpan; "You'd have to earn that first honey." The dragonborn lamented.
"Absolutely not" Marcus said defiantly, "I am putting my foot down in this matter. We are not harboring a Crow in our ranks"
"Hey now, I never asked to join the Crows. It was forced on me when I was a child" The elf said, "It was that or starve on the street. And I have to say, while I enjoy the lifestyle, they have not been exactly... 'accommodating' to me in all the years I served them. Look at the useless hooligans they gave me to ambush you, barely trained enough to blend in, and poorly at that. It would have been my death"
"Considering all the talent in my party right now, I am not afraid of the Crows considering what we've faced" He nodded his head in the direction of some of his roguish companions. "They have all the experience we need"
Zevran let out a slow, very sly smile. "You're Marcus Cousland, correct. That Howe specifically made sure to inform me all about you" The Cousland's eyes narrowed. "One of the people your father used to business with was one such Master Ignacio from Antiva, correct?"
"Get to the point"
"Ignacio is a handler for the Crows"
The room grew deathly still as Marcus felt his heart drop in his stomach. "Liar," He quietly whispered.
"I am, on many things, but not that. Master Ignacio has played the role of a trader well. But he handles contracts, hiring agents, and distributing payments to us." In a heart's breathe Zevran was grabbed by the collar of leathers and lifted up to stand by the former noble.
"You lie!" Marcus roared seething as he held up the Crow to his face. "I've known Master Ignacio since I was boy! He was my father's friend for years!" Anger shook his very being.
Zevran however remained unfazed, even while being held by the former noble; "Did you truly 'know' him?"
"Marcus!" The man sharply turned to now see Miara standing at his side along with Serana. "Calm down."
"Are you going to believe him!?"
"What reason does he have to lie?!"
"To save his hide!"
"You were already planning to kill me, and given what I told you, you just want to kill me even more" The elf calmly said. "That wouldn't be a smart move on my part now would it? Why risk your ire?"
Brianna walked over to Marcus's side; "He has a point, he wouldn't just give this out knowing you're going to kill him anyways."
Glaring at Amell and then back to Zevran who remained completely calm, he dropped the elf back to his feet with a growl before walking away. A low whimper came from his faithful hound that followed his master. Marcus stared in no particular direction before looking back to the Crow who readjusted his collar; "Did Master Ignacio hire you for this contract?"
"No, I was hired by another handler in Amaranthine. I honestly do not know if Howe is even aware that Ignacio is one of us. From what I have heard however he utterly despises the newly made Teyrn.
That...was true as Marcus recalled Ignacio always being rather cold towards Rendon, even by mentioning of his name alone his mood would sour. The former noble rubs his forehead; "I can't think clearly on this." He looks to his friend and companions; "Opinions?"
"A man whose honor is measured by coin is never to be trusted," Sten declared crossing his large arms.
Theron grunted; "I agree with the qunari. Harboring an assassin with us is like harboring a viper in our midst" He noticed a hurtful glare from Leliana but ignored it, standing by his words.
"His wealth of information of these Crows could be a benefit for us," Sofie addressed with reason glancing to her elven mother along with Oryrn.
"I can make him a thrall" Serana offered him, "Make him a slave to my will with magic"
Zevran's eyes widened in a fit of a sudden fright; "Perdón?" He nervously said in Western Antivan.
"Um... no!" Neria shook her head vehemently. "We have standards!"
Miara soon offered, "Then I buy him off, and threaten to kill him the moment he gives us a wrong look"
"Yes, that" The antivan elf nodded eagerly, all but pleading for his mind to remain intact. "Let's do that please"
"...Fine" Marcus finally conceded. "He's your problem now"
With the discussion now over Miara pulled her ebony dagger hidden from her belt and cut loose Zevran's bound wrists; "You work for me now, understand?"
The now former Crow nodded; "Utterly and completely, my goddess, whatever you need I shall do."
"I'll hold you to that," she quipped before snapping her fingers. In a tiny flash of arcane light a small ornate chest appeared in her hand for which she gave to the tanned elf; "Will this suffice?"
Zevran blinked several times; "So a mage and warrior, your lands must be truly strange." He slowly took the chest.
"I am many things Zevran, you might just learn them if you prove yourself and earn my trust."
Shrugging the Antivan elf opened the chest and nearly dropped it as his mouth agape. By all that was ever holy how much coin was in this?! Seeing the man's reaction Faren and Gin came over and nearly fainted; "How much sodding gold is that!?" The dwarf exclaimed.
"Five thousand coins," the Dunmeri elf spoke casually earning several gawks; "When it comes to arrangements like these you make truly certain the person knows where to keep his loyalty. And have full incentive in staying loyal."
"Really?" Brianna droned as she crossed her arms indignantly. "You give the assassin sent kill us a pile gold, but you always give us just the exact amount we need for supplies?"
"You shouldn't become too dependent on me, I won't always be around to help you with your problems" The dunmer argued back. "Besides, that gold is hexed"
Zevran, who was in the process of shoving handfuls of golden coins into his pouches, stopped. Everyone slowly looking at the gold and then at the tattooed elf. "Once again" The antivan slowly said, "Perdón?"
"It's hexed, and now that you accepted the gold the magic binds you. If you try to harm us, if you dare to conspire against us in any way, shape or form, you will be in agony"
The assassin stared at her horrified.
"You may consider the magic lifted once your services to us are finished"
Morrigan smiled all too widely, "Now I'm liking the idea of this reprobate joining us. If only to watch him squirm at every turn"
Miara could just feel the smug satisfied smiles among the members of their company. "Welcome to the party, Zevran"
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