#im quite happy with how this turned out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iggydabirdkid · 1 year ago

Text

I've had the idea to write this Dragon Age fic for a while. Dreamed up and spurred on by a particular Oh Hellos album, the particular songs I've picked and rearrangement of which I will be using as a sort of guide and inspiration to this lot of chapters that i will be writing.

This first one went a lot longer than I thought, but it is so much better than the first version I had.

So! Here it is!

My Ao3

Title: Prelude

Word count: 6971

-----

You had been thrust into a role you were not meant for. Despite what Duncan had told you about needing new recruits at the time, you feel as if he would have preferred someone different. Someone whose tongue wasn’t as sharp as their blades. Or maybe he had been content with his decision, having not been able to recruit your mother however many years before, yet he had snapped you up as soon as it had benefitted him. It was either be conscripted into the Grey Wardens or be thrown in the Denerim jails and you would have died down there. More accurately you would have been killed in those depths. Just like your mother was.

Maybe you had been too hard on Duncan. He was the first human to be kind and you had done nothing to deserve the compassion with which he had treated you. You regret your attitude towards the man and now he was dead. Lying somewhere back on the fields of Ostagar. At least that’s what the Witch had told you.

You sit outside the small hut with your body having been restored yet the aches still remain, healed by magic the feeling of which was as familiar as your own. You sit with your back to the hut as you use the tip of your dagger to scrape out the dirt and blood from under your nails. You can hear voices inside, Morrigan and her mother. Flemeth. Strange pair to live so far out in the wilds but who are you to judge. Living out here, as far as you are concerned is far better than the squalor of the slums you grew up in. Out here you were free. Well, not exactly. Not right now anyways.

“You’d think that with the impending doom and threat of the world ending they’d cut their argument short.”

The voice startles you, wrapped up in your thoughts as you are and your blade slips, slicing through the top of your thumb. You let out a sharp hiss and glare up at Alistair to find him not even paying attention to your plight, instead he stands before you as he stares towards the cabin at your back. You huff and holster your dagger as the warmth of magic flows through your arm from your core and seals the small cut instantly.

“They’re humans. They bicker. It’s what they do. It’s annoying, but…” you shrug and shake your hand, sparks dancing at the tips of your fingers. Not like you can go anywhere quite yet anyways.

“Hey! I’m human.”

“And you’re annoying,” you give a fanged grin and he finally looks down at you, “What’s your point?”

“Oh ha ha.” He rolls his eyes and you crick your shoulders as you get to your feet.

“You have a point though. And I’m tired of just sitting around and waiting. We have a job to do. It’s on us now.” You spare a glance at the armored man, seeing his jaw stiffen and his body tense and you scoff before stepping by him and up to the aged wooden door barely keeping the quarrelling voices at bay, “Hey!” You shout and bang on the door for extra measure, “Stop trading insults and sort your shit out. We needed to move yesterday! The Darkspawn aren’t going to wait!” You step back and the door flies open, golden eyes framed by raven black hair stare down at you. You stare back unblinking and you swear you catch the hint of a smirk on those plum-coloured lips before she steps out on onto the slurry that this swamp calls a ground, “So. You coming with us?”

“It seems I have no choice,” comes the strained reply and you nod, turning and grabbing your pack from beside the stump you had been sitting on.

“Fine with me. I won’t say no to another magic user. And since Alistair seems to be shirking his duty as the ‘technically’ more senior Grey Warden, his opinion doesn’t matter.” Your words are biting and a touch caustic. This role has been forced upon you by circumstance and for that you were still a bit bitter. But by the creators you are going to make the most of this. You half-turn to look towards Flemeth who regards you with a gaze of faint amusement and a hint of something more sinister before the door is shut and she is gone. Strange woman. You shake your head and turn back, “Alright then! Onwards!”

+++++

You leave the tavern with one more person than you had coming in. Leliana is her name. A strange woman to join your even stranger entourage. Hair the colour of fire much like yours though a touch warmer. According to the speech she had given when you met. the Maker had come to her in a dream. You don’t trust in the beliefs the Chantry preach but you need people. And though she dresses in the robes of a Chantry sister you can’t deny the ferocity you had seen her fight with. Quicker with a blade than even you. And if she wants to live in her delusions, who are you to dissuade her? And besides, she may be crazy, but she seems determined. And chatty. Talking away behind you to Morrigan of all people. You can’t help the grin as you picture the brooding woman’s face, pursed lips and all. Alistair must be having great fun with this. Besides, between her, Alistair and Morrigan, you need someone with a decent moral compass. It helps that she’s nice as well, something you still aren’t entirely used to. And although you will never admit it aloud, you think she’s quite pretty.

+++++

You ask her about herself in the times at camp when all is quiet. She tells you everything you want to know and with any other person you would think she just likes the sound of her own voice. But she doesn’t seem to be like that. It’s as if she’s been alone for far too long and misses the interaction, the camaraderie. She’s an open book and you think she’s a tad naïve for someone who says she has travelled all over Orlais. However, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to her.

+++++

It’s a small thing at first. A simple gesture. A flower you find nestled in the hollow of a log split apart under Morrigan’s paw after an ambush had her shape twisting and reforming in an instant to that of a wild-furred bear. It’s a pretty thing. 6 delicate petals with a blood red center fading out into white and a pleasant smell that has you leaning in close. You reach out to pluck it from the dirt and rise to your feet as you turn it over in your fingers. She’d like this. The thought has your brows furrowing and your fingers clench, snapping the fragile stem. You catch the flower before it lands in the mud and cradle it in your hands.

“What do you have there?” a soft and curious voice asks from behind. You freeze up though only momentarily before you turn around and hold the slightly crumpled flower out to Leliana.

“For you,” you say, glad that your voice is even.

“A flower?” She smiles even though it’s a tad confused and still she takes the bloom from your hands, “It’s beautiful. And the smell.” Her eyes flutter close, “It’s so familiar…” She trails off and you watch as her nose scrunches up before her eyes fly open with a small gasp that had you taking a step back, “These were flowers that my Mother often used!” Her smile turns into a grin, “She would press the dried petals between the folds of her clothes. I would find them absolutely everywhere!” She lets off a laugh that has you own lips quirking before she stares at the flower and lets out a long sigh, “They smell exactly as she did.” She looks directly at you now with a smile like the sun, “Thank you.”

+++++

You bring her along every time you leave camp and as soon as you return you gravitate towards her. Asking her questions and her asking her own in return. You know you’re stand-offish and vulgar at times but she doesn’t seem to mind all that much. She tells you tales of her travels, of the minstrels and spies of Orlais. Of the bards. At one time you ask her why she left Orlais and how she ended up in a Chantry in Lothering of all places. And the answer she gives you is so clearly a lie that you don’t bother pushing for the truth. Not for her benefit, you try tell yourself. Though that is another lie. And the first time you hear her laugh at one of your wisecracks it sends a strange flutter through your chest. But you ignore it the best you can. For what could anything lead to but heartache and pain. You’re from two different worlds. It would never work.

+++++

“I am sorry.”

She approaches you one afternoon in camp as you practice a new form of magic. The flickering of flame you were imbuing into a dagger sputters and dies and you sigh before you turn to face her.

“You’re sorry?” you question. You can’t think of anything she has to be sorry for.

“I lied to you before. About why I left Orlais.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” You shrug.

“Not my place to ask.” You haven’t told her why you left Denerim. Why you were forced to leave. You’re not sure if any time would ever be right to say as such.

“Then I thank you. I did not want to talk about it before, but now… now I feel as if you should know. You deserve to know.” The added sentence sends a shiver of something through you, “I left Orlais because I was being… hunted.” You raise an eyebrow. Now this, is unexpected.

“…Continue.”

“I was double-crossed by the same woman who taught me everything I know about being a Bard. Marjolaine.” You watch a brief flicker of anger pass over Leliana’s face, an expression you’ve not yet seen her wear, “She was my friend and Bard-Master and I thought I could trust her. I was mistaken.” Her whole body is rigid and her fists are curled and she watches you closely as you speak.

“What happened?” you ask, ever curious about a world you know nothing about.

“I found sealed documents on the body of a man Marjolaine sent me to kill. The temptation was… too great for me to resist. Much like the Maker telling me to travel with you, it was if he was guiding my hand, as if I needed to know what the letters said.” She shakes her head, “Marjolaine had been committing treason. Selling all kinds of information about Orlais to many interested parties.” The laugh has you flinching, it is bitter and not at all sweet like the sound usually is when it passes through her lips, “Yet still my concern was for her still and the danger that would befall her if such information were to be revealed. I told her my concerns and she simply brushed them aside. Yet I kept my faith in her. Right up until I was shown those same documents altered by Marjolaine herself to paint me as the traitor.”

You’re reluctant to ask more but something urges you to inquire.

“And after?” Your voice has grown quiet, befitting of the heavy topic, but not of you.

“I’m sure I do not need to tell you what happens to those who cross paths with people in power.”

She does not, and her words have you thinking she knows more about you than you thought.

“I was offered a helping hand to free myself and I took it. I was furious-“ Part of her still is. You can see in in the way her lip curls every time she speaks that woman’s name, “-and I felt deceived, betrayed. But I didn’t seek Marjolaine. She would have had me captured if she thought I was coming for her, that I know for certain. And so I left and did not look back.”

“And now you’re here. In Fereldan with me, fighting a war that is not your own.”

“It is better than the alternative. Lying dead in an unmarked grave.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” A laugh. A soft one this time.

“I am glad also.” Her cheeks are red and now your face feels warm also and you look away, “I didn’t want to lie to you anymore,” she continues, “Not about this at least.”

“Oh?” you smirk and half-turn your head to look at her, “You have other secrets?”

“A lady never tells.” She’s grinning back at you and your laugh is a less than delicate snort, “Thank you Arianna.”

“For?”

“For listening.”

+++++

You’re in Orzammar, the lowest part, Dust Town as the Locals call it. Alistair and Morrigan are bickering behind you and Leliana is standing by your side and you hear her sigh. You raise an eyebrow and look up at her.

“Something on your mind?” you ask as you follow her line of sight to see what caused the soft exhale. Only to see a rough Dwarven man surrounded by a handful of strange pink and fleshy long-eared creatures that you have never seen before.

“Aren’t they just adorable?” When you look back at her she’s smiling, a faraway look in her pretty blue eyes, “I would love to have one as a pet, they’re just so cute.” She clasps her hands together in front of her and you’ve only ever seen her face light up like this when she’s incredibly happy. Or when she’s talking to you. You feel your heart ache in your chest and your eyes narrow as an idea takes root in your brain.

/////

“Leliana?” you approach her tent cautiously, your arms behind your back as you struggle to keep the gift hidden.

“Oui?” Her head pops out and she smiles when she looks at you and steps out the rest of the way.

“I uh…” you find yourself strangely struggling for words as she gazes down at you, “I wanted to…” you groan and huff and shake your head, “Close your eyes for a moment.” She does without hesitation and you see the way her lips quirk with mirth. Hidden from her sight you crouch and lower the gift to the dirt behind you before spinning, picking it up again, and turning back around, “You can open them now.” She does straight away and when she looks down at you you see her eyes light up with obvious delight before she lets out a happy squeal.

“It’s one of those bunny-pigs from Orzammar!” she laughs and the sound is wonderful and contagious and now you’re smiling too.

“It’s for you.” You extend your arms out towards her, limbs shaking slightly at the weight of the animal.

“For me?” she starts as she scoops the ball of pink from you and cradles it to her chest.

“I wanted to get you something nice,” you shrug, “To thank you.”

“Thank me?”

You can’t help the snort at her parroting your words back to you, “For sticking with me for so long,” you joke, “And for being helpful, and just for… well… just for being you I guess.” You have to avert your gaze with the way she’s looking at you and so you don’t see it coming when she leans down, and plants a soft kiss to your cheek. You freeze, your eyes widening as you slowly bring a hand up to your cheek and turn, mouth agape.

“Speechless? That’s a first.” Her smirk is playful and a bubble of laughter rises up your throat, escaping through your lips. You shouldn’t love her. You can’t. But maybe…

+++++

You wake up in the dead of night, your heart pounding and your head full of noise and a song you can’t quite recall. The fire is a dim crackle and you see the sleeping form of your companions spaced out in the camp. All except one. You let out a breath and get to your feet, stumbling a little as your vision tilts but you shake your head and make your way over to her. She looks up as you approach and the smile she gives helps calm your nerves and you take a seat besides her on the fallen log.

“You cannot sleep?”

You shake your head as you clasp your hands together, staring down at your boots covered in so much grime that their pattern is unrecognizable. And your heart aches a tad. You wish you didn’t get them as dirty as you did and part of you doesn’t want to wear them at all, if only to spare them from damage and ruin. But you can’t bear to take them off. Instead you grab the dagger from your side and reach down as you attempt to scrape off the dried mud from the worn leather. You hear a tsk at your side and look up.

“You’ll only damage them that way.”

You stare at her and her words sound like those of disgrace. But that is the thought that pops into your mind immediately, an internal decision brought forth by your upbringing and distrust in general and not of this woman who has shown you nothing but respect and compassion. And so you relax the iron grip you have on the hilt of your dagger and force yourself to calm.

“Then what do you suggest?” you ask and you hope your words don’t sound as strained as they feel.

“We have some extra water, and I have some herbs I can grind into a soapy paste. We can clean them properly.”

“We?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, if you would like my help I will be happy to give it.” That damn smile again and you look away when you feel your cheeks warm, giving only a nod in reply, “Lovely. I will get the supplies. If you can stoke the fire in the meantime, I’d appreciate it.” She stands and moves back to her tent and you turn your attention to the dying flames. A short spurt of magic and a strong exhale has the flames growing high and bright and you may have overdone it a little when the grass at the edge of the barrier of stones burns into ash. You grimace before you slip your boots off and cross your legs beneath yourself.

Soon enough Leliana returns with a shining bowl of some type of silver metal and an armful of cleaning supplies. You watch with interest as she places the supplies at your side before extending the bowl in her arms out towards you.

“Hold this please.”

You do as she asks, only if it is because you are curious. The bowl is full of clean water and you can only just make out your reflection, cast on this surface of ripples by the glow of firelight before you. You look just as muddy as your boots. You watch yourself frown and you uncross your legs in order to place the bowl on your lap as you continue to stare into the pale blue of your eyes.

You had never minded being filthy before. But as you look up and watch Leliana sit next to you, with your boots laying across her lap and her always clean clothes becoming stained from the mud-encrusted leather, you realize you want to be clean for her. And that brings a whole host of other feelings that only grow as she looks to you with a smile. You turn your head forwards and clear your throat but the soft laugh at your side has you turning your face away completely, shoulders tense and hands clasped tightly to the sides of the bowl.

She speaks no words to which you’re grateful and for a short time the only sound you can hear is the cracking of the fire, the soft snoring of those still asleep and the sound of bristles brushing against leather. You begin to relax in the silence, the stiff position you had been holding leaving your body sore. Beads of water occasionally drip over the side of the bowl and onto your lap but the heat of your magic keeps you dry and it’s only when you hear Leliana start to hum that you look at her for the first time in a while.

She’s dutifully scrubbing the muck from your boots and she’s doing a fine job of it, you can almost see the pattern beneath as the mud washes away and you realize with a start that her outfit is now soaked and grimy.

“Leliana, your clothes?” you point out with a sense of urgency and though the humming stops, her actions do not.

“I know.” Is all she replies and you can see the curve to her lips as she turns your boots over in her lap.

You’re confused, your face screwing up as you purse your lips but you say nothing as her humming starts up again. Instead you sit and listen and watch and by the time your boots are clean you notice 3 things. One, their grained surface is so clean they look almost new and you can see clearly the vine pattern snaking their way around the leather. Two, Leliana’s clothes are so dirty that you have no idea how she will be able to salvage them. And three…

You frown as Leliana places the boots by your feet.

“Leliana?” you start as you place the bowl on the ground and turn to look at the flame-haired woman, “Why did you need me to hold the bowl?”

She smiles at you and you can see her cheeks glow red.

“I enjoy your company.”

You’re not entirely sure how to respond to that.

+++++

You’re back in Denerim after so long. Yet you’re not here for you. Marjolaine is here, so close by and you’re doing this for Leliana. For her sanity, for closure, for safety. You know which house she’ll be in and as you stand outside the door Leliana is quiet beside you.

“Are you ready?” you ask her and she only nods. So with Alistair and Morrigan backing you up, you all head inside.

/////

“If it isn’t my lovely Leliana!”

The voice croons at you from the dark-haired woman across the room and at your side Leliana stiffens.

“Do not call me that. I know-“

“-I tried to tidy up the best I could in this shabby accommodation-“ Marjolaine interrupts and you blanch. Shabby? This is better than most Alienage houses, “- but hard work can’t fix all.” The woman smiles but its off. Wrong. Ill-suited to fit her face and it makes you feel uneasy, “It is so damp in this country. And it smells!” She waves her hand across her face as she screws up her nose, warding off a scent you can’t pick up on, “Like wet dog and unwashed bodies. Ugh. I’ll never get this stench out.” Your hand goes to your dagger.

“And it’s going to smell like iron soon enough if you keep talking the way you are,” you growl out as you feel a heat bubble up your throat. She leers at you.

“Little elf I am neither unarmed nor unguarded. There are others waiting and they will attack on my order. So for now we shall simply speak.”

Your anger at the slight is almost enough to overwhelm as your vision turns red and you go to take a step forwards before a hand on your shoulder has you stopping in place. You look up into ocean-blue eyes and a silent plead swims in their waters. This is not your fight. Not this time. You know that. You know that. Your breath shudders in your lungs and you take a step back to give Leliana the floor.

“You betrayed me Marjolaine. You broke my trust and almost my spirit but I am too strong for that, especially now. I thought here in Fereldan I would be free of your clutches, but that too was a foolish thought.” You watch her blood splattered hair move about as she shakes her head, “What happened to make you hate me so much that my death was a path you saw unavoidable?”

“My Leliana!” a short and harsh laugh, “What gibberish you are speaking before me! You are more than capable of killing a handful of men just by yourself. The intention was never to kill you!”

“Then what was the reason behind all of the pointless deaths?” You see Leliana’s hands clench into fists and her arms start to shake, though you don’t think she’s afraid.

“To give you motivation to return to me!” Now it’s your turn to butt in.

“You’re so full of shit!” you spit as your internal fire is spurred by her lies.

“I can see through your deceit Marjolaine,” Leliana adds just after, “Tell no more lies. Why are you here, truly.”

The smile on the other woman’s face turns sour so quickly that you blink and her joviality is replaced by a scowl, “You have knowledge that can harm me, even kill me. And you think I can just sit by idle while you waltz around Fereldan?” She scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest, “And did you really think I would not have eyes on you my Leliana? I never lost you.” She looks triumphant as you step up besides Leliana, “When you thought you had escaped with the clothes and the new hair and the ugh!” She throws her arms up, “I taught you what you know and you thought you could fool me?” You look up to Leliana expecting anger but what you find instead is… confusion? “I knew you were up to something and even when you kept to yourself I still watched. You thought you were so smart but I knew better. And when you left that Chantry as fast as you fled Orlais? Well, what was I to think?”

“You… you thought I left because of you?” The shaking in Leliana’s arms has stopped, “You thought I left to what? Plan my revenge? You really are crazy! Obsessive and controlling!”

“Yeah,” your sneer rivals the one opposite, “It ain’t all about you.”

“Oh!” The laugh is tilted and you know the sound of mania when you hear it. You’ve heard it plenty before, “I would not believe her if I were you. She speaks nothing but lies and she will use her honeyed words to manipulate you. She is no simple sweet girl. It is but an act!” Her gestures are wild as she throws her arms out.

“Do not project onto me,” Leliana counters, “I fled to free myself of your web. I will not be you, not ever.”

“You cannot escape it girl!” Marjolaine’s eyes are wild, hair unkempt from her gesticulations, “No one will know you better than I for we are the same!”

“Alright that’s enough crazy.” You draw your daggers, “Whatever venom laced words leave your mouth their fangs will find no purchase on my skin. I trust Leliana far more than your words could ever break and its only by her grace that I did not cut you down where you stand as soon as the first insult came my way.” You’re itching for a fight, your skin prickles and grows warm but Leliana holds out an arm to stay your rush before she speaks.

“Marjolaine you will leave this house and this city. You will leave Fereldan in its entirety if you know what’s good for you.”

“You think you can kill me that easily Leliana?” Marjolaine sneers.

“If she can’t I will,” you snarl, “It won’t be the first head I’ve cut off within the walls of Denerim. I suggest you leave if you don’t want to join the Arl’s son 6 feet under!”

The room is deathly silent and you feel flames licking at your fingers as you ignore the glance Leliana spares you in favour of staring down Marjolaine. She hasn’t taken her eyes from you and you have yet to blink. You hope that scares her, even just a little bit. A stalemate, no one moves, until Marjolaine sneers again.

“I will destroy you Leliana. And it will be as easy as it was when I made you what you are.”

She’s sealed her fate. As the doors previously closed fly open and her guards rush in, you surge forwards and the battle is afoot.

/////

You try to get into the Alienage after the fight, desperate to hear the voice of your father but the gate is shut and the guard refuses to let you in. Part of you isn’t surprised, spattered with blood as you are but this is your home. Even when you threaten him he stands still and your companions almost have to drag you away, spitting and cursing as you leave the city and head back to camp.

/////

“Leliana.” You approach her once the night falls and you are cleaned of blood and filth.

“Oh! Arianna,” she jumps a little before turning and she smiles, though you see her lips tremble as she clasps her hands together.

“I feel we should discuss what happened, with Marjolaine.” As if clarification is needed. She sighs and you both head to that same log by the fire, sitting side by side.

“I cannot believe after all this time in Fereldan she thought I was scheming her downfall. I thought I knew her once. And now I’m starting the believe that I never truly knew her at all.”

“I… I’m sorry,” you apologize and the sentiment feels strange to you, “I can’t say I know what that’s like in the same sense as you do but I know how the ruthless work far too well. But this isn’t about me,” you shake your head, “How can I help?” you offer.

“Just the fact that you are willing to understand and listen soothes my worried thoughts,” comes the reply and her hand snakes closer to where yours rests against the coarse wood. You look into the fire as Leliana speaks again, “I always knew she could be cut-throat and cunning but I never thought she would go as far as this. All her life she has used people for her own gain before throwing them away or… or making them disappear when they have outgrown their usefulness. I think…” she hesitates, “I think I may have been her tool in a handle of such cases, now that I think back but…” You hear a soft sniff and you whip your head back around, eyes wide and you see Leliana wipe at her face, “What if what she said was true? That we are the same? I was happy when I left and when I started on my path to become a Chantry sister I was happy and safe, not having to look over my shoulder and it felt like such a weight had been lifted!” A brief smile as her eyes glaze over before the clouds clear and she look at you, “It’ll ruin me. This life. Just as it did Marjolaine. And I… I do not want that. I do not want to become the monster she was.” You tilt your head.

“What makes you think you will?” you ask with a frown. Although your interaction with Marjolaine was brief and bloody, she seemed a far different sort than this ray of warmth before you.

“I feel as if it may have already happened,” her whole-body shakes and you want to reach out but you stop yourself from doing so, “Her death was satisfying and a part of me…liked it.”

“Leliana, she destroyed your life,” you frown.

“But feeling a sense of enjoyment is what she would do!” You lean backwards at the outburst, “We have hunted down people down and killed them and there is a part of me that loves that and it feels as repulsive as it does invigorating. I-I feel…” you watch as she brings her hands up to her face, “I feel as if my sense of self, of all that is good and fair is fading and I don’t know what to do…” her voice cracks and your shoulders slump.

“That does not mean you are a bad person.”

“And how would you know?”

“Because bad people don’t worry about doing evil. And here you are concerned about the consequences of killing a woman who almost had you dead earlier today,” you can’t help the laugh that trails after your words, “You are far from being anything like her.”

Her smile returns and when she drops her hand her fingers briefly grace over your own. Her voice is soft as she speaks, “I can always count of you to pull me from despair.”

“Well if I couldn’t, I would be doing a shit job wouldn’t I? Surrounded by death as we are,” you grin and she chuckles.

“Thank you Arianna. You have given me much to think about.”

+++++

It’s your turn to stand watch a few nights later and you sit by the fire as you gaze up at the stars. You look for the constellations Leliana has spun tales about and you smile when you hear her emerge from her tent behind you.

“Beautiful night,” she speaks as she takes a seat at your side, close enough that when you shift on the spot your knees touch.

“It is indeed,” you reply but when you speak your eyes are no longer on the sky and she’s looking at you as well. The silence between you is charged with the weight of words unspoken. You open your mouth to speak but she beats you to it.

“Arianna?”

“Yes?”

“We are close yes?”

“You could say that.”

“I want you to know that I feel safe around you. Comfortable. And I know you had doubts about stepping into this role, but in my eyes you have done an admirable job.” A genuine smile eases onto your face as you feel your eyes water, “I have never truly had friends before but I feel we are as such.” Friends. Why does her seeing you as just friends hurt? Even as you ask yourself that question you know why, “Close friends. In fact I…” she trails off and you watch as she turns to face the fire, you tilt your head as strands of her hair move to cover the alluring curve of her jaw, “I feel as if we could be more perhaps.” Despite yourself you feel your ears flickers and your heart speed up, “And unless I’ve read you wrong, I think you feel the same too.”

Your heart almost stops when she looks at you, her expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it.

“Leliana.” You surprise yourself with the laugh that leaves you, “I’m not exactly the most charming of people.”

“I’m not asking you to be.” Her hands are moving closer to your own. You do nothing to dissuade them.

“Then what are you asking?”

“I’m asking you to be you.”

For the second time this woman renders you unable to speak. Her fingers wrap around your own and you lean in towards her as she does that same. She’s so close your noses are almost touching. Warm breath washes over your face as your lips hover just inches away from hers and you surprise yourself again when you are the one to bridge the gap.

Your lips meet and sparks fly, literally. Small shoots of flame spit out from the growing fire and you’ve never felt like this before. Your inner voice of doubt is swept away by waves of bliss and drowned out completely as you reach up and curl your fingers around the back of Leliana’s neck. You pull her further downwards as the kiss deepens and you feel her hands on your hips and you know you shouldn’t love her. But you’re too far gone now to care.

+++++

You’re home. At last. After so much has happened. It’s strange to think that it’s been almost a year now since you were last here. Everything has changed, and yet nothing has. The end is drawing near. Death has been following in your footsteps since the beginning. You’re no fool. You can feel it in your bones as sure as the fire that runs through your veins. You’re standing beneath the great boughs of the vhenadahl as you hold your mother’s dagger in your hands, a gift given by your father after his life had almost come to an end. The thought has your hands tightening on the leather hilt until a familiar figure draws up to your side.

“It is a beautiful tree,” Leliana speaks and you place your dagger in a holster at your hip as she reaches for your hand. You intertwine your fingers without looking as you watch leaves rain down from up high.

“I used to climb it when I was younger,” your voice is a quiet murmur but one she picks up on regardless.

“What is wrong my love?” voice sweet and words soft and amongst the terror and dread of what is to come, the days of happiness and joy long since passed feel like poison in your veins.

“If I am to die in the battle to come-“ fingers tightening on your own, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath, “-I want you to bury me here. Beneath the roots and leaves. Give my body back to the earth.”

“Ari…”

“I hope it won’t come to that but I just… I need to make sure if it does happen that things will be handled.” You don’t look at her, you can’t, “My mother is buried here. At least if I am to die, if there is something after, I will get to see her again.” You can feel your eyes burning hot with tears and you move your free hand to wipe them away.

“I’m sorry,” Leliana squeezes your hand.

“Don’t be,” the laugh is breathless as you turn and look into eyes like the sky, “Though I think she would have liked you,” you smile.

“You truly think so?”

“Yeah. I really do.”

+++++

Your lungs are aching as you heave in breaths one at a time. The battlefield is a ruin alight with flames, the archdemon downed, collapsed on rubble not far from where you stand. Above the echo of battle below you hear a low deepthroated rumble and though the haze of smoke you see the blighted creature rear its head.

It’s still alive. But its minions are not and apart from the bodies strewn across the way, your route is clear. You’re not going to get a better chance than this.

You run, arms and legs pumping as you hear shouting at your rear but you pay the voices no mind as you continue your path, stopping only briefly to wrench a longsword from the chest cavity of a fallen darkspawn. It’s not a weapon you have used before but right now it feels as natural as your twin daggers and the sparks of flame at your fingertips.

The Archdemon sees you coming, its serpentine neck almost twisting up on itself in its attempt to face you, its mouth opening in a roar as it poises and strikes-

You drop to a knee with the blade pointed skywards and the dragons’ forwards momentum does most of the damage as the sword slices straight down the middle of its neck. It rears up and screeches, showering you with hot dark blood as it flails above one last time before coming down with a thunderous crash.

You take a breath.

One.

Take a step forwards.

Two.

You raise the sword above your head.

Three.

And strike.

The blade cracks through the Archdemons skull and from the wound a wondrous light pours forth. You’re not sure if you’re imagining it or if it’s an effect of fatigue or a sign of something divine but you’re here to do a duty. With all your strength you twist and push until you feel the blade meet stone with a jarring thud that reverberates all the way up your arms. Only then with the light bright enough to blind as two figures race towards you do you begin pulling the weapon free. It’s a struggle but you can’t allow yourself to fail. Not now. And as you look up to lock eyes with the woman who’s been with you almost from the start you feel empowered. You won’t fail. And with a final tug that has you stumbling back the blade is free. Before a sudden explosion knocks you off your feet completely.

………

It’s dark. Your head hurts, your body is sore and your arm is twisted beneath you but you can feel. Morrigan was right. It worked. You’re alive.

You lever yourself upwards with a groan, choking on dirt and debris as you cough and splutter and there’s hands on your back that keep you upright, keep you from falling onto your face again. They help turn you around and then you are enveloped in a warm embrace smelling sweetly of wildflowers. You laugh. Loud and happy for the first time in far too long and you wrap your arms around Leliana as you bury your face into her neck.

It’s over.

You won.

And you will live.

#not fallen hero #im quite happy with how this turned out #will be writing more to go with it at some point #dragon age #dragon age origins

1 note · View note