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The First's Sister	By : lycanthrope Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 9452 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All Characters and places found in this fic are based on Dragon Age Origins and Dragon Age 2 both games are the legal property of Bioware and i make no profit from the posting of this fic.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1
The thin strip of wood beneath my feet bends and wobbles dangerously under my hurried footsteps. Threatening to break under my uncharacteristic heavy footfalls.
When my feet finally land on solid stone my knees give out from under me and I topple forward to the floor. Uncaring of my current position, prone on the floor, I take a moment to look at the stone under my hands. Marvellous relief flows freely through my body and I fall forward embracingly the earth. “Land.” I say quietly to the rock beneath me. Silently thanking it for it's sturdiness.
A disapproving voice behinds me drags from from my ravine of bliss. “Must you do this every time?” The silk laced through her voice betrays her high born heritage and the heavy accent her Orlesian roots. Tuning more than a few heads in the crow around us.
“Yes.” Is my only reply pressing the side of my face against the stone, hoping to feel the earth which is surly to lie beneath it's surface. “I doesn’t move.” I offer by way of an explanation
I hear an exasperated sigh behind me and even though my eyes are closed I know she has one of her hands firmly planted on her hip and her eyes rolling in their sockets. “Ships float. They are supposed to move.”
Cracking my eyes open and lifting my head just enough to be able to see her over my shoulder. “Next time we walk.” I state, hoping my rural Ferelden lilt will leave no room for argument.
“Will we?” She asks, and I can hear her eyebrow rising by the change in her voice. I had almost forgotten, that with Leliana, there is always room for argument. Usually I lose. “The journey would have taken six weeks on foot. You know that.”
Pushing my face once more into the stone and ignoring all of the passing stares that are sent my way. “But I don't like boats.” Even though I would never admit it, even I can hear the whine in my voice.
The ridged leather protective casing for her Ironbark bow lands inches from my nose, forcing my eyelids to spring open in surprise. She leans heavily against the casing leaning her head downwards trying to keep eye contact even at this odd angle. “The Batoidea, is a ship not a boat.” She corrects with a even voice.
Firstly what's the difference? If it floats like a boat and bobs like a boat, it's a damned boat. Secondly who in their right mind calls their boat 'The Batoidea'? Not only is that a fish, it's a bottom feeding fish. Something which does not need to float! Why not call it something like 'The Floater' or 'The Boat'
“Please stop holding the dock.” She says, pleading with me through her eyes.
“But... Land.” I say going as far as to start stroking ground close to my face.
“Yes and I'm sure you can appreciate how still land can be, standing up. Preferably before you're thrown into an asylum.” Her perfectly sculpted red eyebrows raise into her bangs.
“How can you be so indifferent?” I ask pushing my chest up, off the dockside. All she does is smile and I grumble all the way to my feet. “Alright I'm up.”
“I see that.”
“What now?” I ask, disgruntled at having to cut short my reunion with solid ground.
She keeps smiling, running her eyes along the length of my body in a way that reminds me why she usually gets her own way around me. “We need to find some lodgings.”
I reach down to retrieve my forgotten pack and push it causally over the leather amour covering my shoulder. “Let me guess. An inn. In the city.”
She nods gently, knowing that I would rather be lying on a bed roll out in the open air. “I know Lyna but we can't really run reconnaissance for Alistair from the mountain. Now can we.” The use of my real name softens the blow. Only my closest friends, With the exception of Sten still use my given name. The rest of the world as soon as they lean my identity only refer to me was Warden or the Hero of Ferelden. Nether title I either want or deserve.
My forehead creases into a frown, showing my discomfort. “Remind me again why I agreed to this.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “I'll show you later.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief and a shiver of anticipation runs through my spine.
Inns have beds and beds can lead to naughtiness, the sooner the better in my opinion. “So, which inn?” I ask trying and failing to sound innocent.
She laughs again, squeezing my shoulders and puling me closer to the side of her body. Then tactfully ignores the lustful look, which I can feel plastered across my face. “I've herd, nothing but good things about 'The Hanged Man.'” She says stepping forward and leading me into the City of Chains.
“No you haven’t.” I say, already turning my nose up at the idea. “That pace is no better than the 'Gnawed Noble'.”
“And how much information did we gather from the Gnawed Noble?”
I hadn't even thought of that. “Sometimes I forget why your the bard and I'm the thief.” After a long sigh I resign myself to her superior logic. “Fine. We stay at the 'Hanged Man' But don't blame me if I get into another bar fight.”
“As if I would spoil your fun.” she releases my shoulders to pulls her pack more securely over her back. “Just try not to draw too much attention to yourself this time.”
“I'll try.” I say, knowing that as soon as I have a few drinks in my belly I will all but forget the promise.
She shakes her head with a smile. “That's all I ask.”
Kirkwall. The city of chains. Even the name is enough to have a Dalish elf quaking in her boots. Why do Shems insist on using so much stone and iron?
The run down tavern is so close to the dockside, you can still hear the blasted seagulls and smell the salty air from the doorway. I had never even seen an ocean before I became a Grey Warden and started travelling with a bunch of misfits. Now I have to live next to the bloody thing for the foreseeable future. “I am going to hate it here.” I say turning back towards Leliana.
“I know.” She says pushing the latch to the door and letting it swing open with a creak. “Look on the bright side. Tomorrow you can take me shoe shopping.” She throws an exited smile in my direction and disappears into the tavern.
“You already have enough shoes!” I call out stepping beneath the threshold into the inn. The intense din of Shem conversation immediately hits my ears, forcing me to wince. The one thing I cannot get used to in human sociality is crowds and the unbelievable noise that they can make. It takes a few moments for my sensitive ears to become accustomed to the incoherent noise and I try to ignore the building pressure behind my eyes as I make my way over to the bar, with the full intention of drinking off my impending headache.
I drop a sovereign down onto the withered wooden bar calling out to the busy barmaid. “Can I get a drink over here?”
“Ya can wait ye turn!” Is the only answer that is shouted down from the other end of the long bar.
I smile at the rude shout. That would never have happened in Ferelden. Everyone from beggar to farmer to noble knows my face. It's nice to come into a place and not be treated differently.
“Well, by Andraste's tits. Look who it is.”
I know that voice. “Isabella?” Somehow, and I'm not sure how exactly, I manage to keep my chin off the floor.
She lands sidewards on the bar heavily, rocking slightly from side to side at the abrupt halt in her movement. The sent of whisky wafting to my highly sensitive nose after each breath she takes, the silly smile plastered across her face and her half closed eyelids tell me she has had more than a few drinks this afternoon. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I'd say the same.” I cautiously take the coin off the bar and hold it between my fingers. “But this is a tavern, near the docks, close to a brothel.”
“Aye. Only place I’d rather be is on the deck of the 'Sirens Call'. Since that's not an option here I am.” Again why would you call your ship that? A sirens call is said to lure sailors to their doom on the reefs, why temp fate in such a way? “You have the smell of the sea about you. Just docked?”
I nod tuning my head towards the barmaid again. “Yes. Thank the Creators.”
“Don't take this personally but you don’t look like the sea faring sort.”
She doesn’t know how right she is. “Not to feed the stereotype but give me frolicking around the forest any day.”
She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Would this frolicking involve nakedness?”
I know I shouldn't be surprised that the years haven’t mellowed her. “No.”
She makes a noise in the back of her throat and her forehead creases in thought. “Shame.” She only smiles at my reaction and turns towards the barmaid. “Norah!” She calls and somehow I am surprised she knows her name. “A drink for my friend.”
“Alright, hold ye horses!” She takes a tankard off the counter, running her apron around the inside in a gallant attempt to clean it. “What'll it be?”
“Mead.” I answer immediately. Experience has taught me that even Dwarfs can't surprise me with the foulness of that drink.
Isabella's hand lands on my shoulder and she starts shaking her head. “No, not the mead. Never the mead.” She turns back to Norah. “Three whiskeys.” Hardly being in a position to argue with Isabella's knowledge I accept the drink and am only mildly surprised when she walks away leaving me to put down the thirteen bits to pay for them.
I take my seat with the two remaining glasses. “You never change do you?”
“I praise the maker every day for such blessings.” She says before taking a healthy swig of her drink. “Where's Leliana?”
Without looking around I know that she is covertly scouting the building and listening to snippets of conversation between the parents, as is her custom and I have no wish for Isabella to draw attention to her before she has finished her ritual. So I only shrug. “She's around.”
“I'd have put money on that.” She casts a long look over my torso, she smirk never leaving her face.
“You'd put money on anything.” I say takeing a very tentative sip of the strong smelling whisky. It hits the back of my throat and burns all the way down to my belly. I have to fight to keep the tears from my eyes and hold my breath to stop myself from falling into a coughing fit. Next time I try the mead.
She smiles, throwing a vast amount of the evil burning liquid down her throat. “Only when I know I’m right.” The smile already gracing her lips pulls tighter to show her teeth in a grin and her eyes lift to gaze above my head. “Red. We were just talking about you.”
Familiar hands lands on each of my shoulders. A dangerous move for anyone but Leliana. “Isabella, what a pleasant surprise.” Her nimble fingers grip at my shoulders. “All good things I hope.”
“Always, my dear.” I answer instinctively.
“Good.” She drops her lips to my crown and swiftly drops into the seat next to me. “Here.” She holds out a single iron key fro me to take. “Up the stairs, third door on the right.”
Slowly I take the key from her grasp. Wondering when she could have had the time to procure a room I'm certain she had only be gone a moment. “You know me so well.” One of these days someone will tell me when I became so transparent.
She shows me her teeth in a grin then turns from my focusing her full attention on Isabella. “So what brings you to Kirkwall?”
I reach down for my forgotten pack and quietly leave the interaction. Both women notice my departure but neither comment. Instead Isabella simply keep the grin pulled across her face and continues her banter with my companion. “Same thing that takes me anywhere Red. Wine, women and song.”
Leliana throws her head back in a laugh. “I find at least one of those very hard to believe.”
“If I remember rightly I didn't take much to make you sing.”
i accent the stairs and let my ears tune out their conversation after hearing the embarrassed laugh from my life partner. My mind sent onto only one thing and that is how quickly I can get out of these sea salt covered clothes. The straps holding the scabbards for my short swords to my back are already unbuckled and my hands are pulling them from my shoulders by the time I close the door behind me. They land in an unceremonious heap by the door and my nimble fingers set to work on the buckles for my leather armour.
In the far corner a steel basin of water has been set to heat over an open fire. As my eyes land on it I send silent thanks to the creators and words of love to Leliana. After loosening the buckles and laces of the tight armour covering my chest I pull the confining garment ungracefully over my head and drop it to the floor on top of my weapons. The lose shirt is soon to follow.
Leaving the tight lengths of material binding my breasts to my body I quickly make my way to heating water, happy to see steam beginning to rise from it's surface. Cupping the liquid in my hand I bring it to my face the push my hands around my neck already beginning to feel relaxed under it's cleansing effects.
After retrieving a bar of soap from Leliana's possessions I set to work cleaning my arms, shoulders, neck and face. Hoping to remove at least most of the grime the waves have left behind after nearly a week at sea. I shake most of the excess water from my hands into the now brown water in the basin and reach of a towel to dry my skin.
I leave my thick leather trousers around my hips, tugging at the lases so I can tuck a clean white shirt into the waistline, then snuff out the open flame and remove the dirty water from the room.
Feeling much lighter I descend the stirs to mingle once more in the crowed tavern, the insistent din no longer so annoying to my ears now my skin is clean.
From across the room I can see that the two have not moved and by the looks of it are still taking jibes at each other, though several more empty cup litter the table in front of Isabella. Another has joined the two, sat next to Leliana, with her back to me, her head swivelling from one to the other as each of them speaks. I don't need to get much closer to spy the newcomers pointed ears. A city elf. My steps halt and my jaw clenches. My mind flashing back to so many years ago, in an Alienage far south of here. Even now I can still hear the ghost of their screams.
I try to shake off the unhappy memories and divert my feet towards the bar to postpone my return to the table. Even though I make no effort to draw the attention of Norah she appears in front of me in an instant. It appears Isabella has more than a little influence over the staff in this establishment. “What'll it be?” She asks, a warm smile pulled across her chubby features.
After my experience with the whisky and the warning I received about the mead I find myself at a loss. “What's good.”
She offers me a snort of laughter. “Ya be in the wrong place for that Pet.” At the very least she's honest.
Her hummer lightens my mood and quickly distracts me from my sombre memories. I fold my arms and lean heavily on the counter, “Alright. Anything but dwaren ale.”
“Right you are.” she says pulling a black glass bottle from beneath the counter, so thickly covered in dust and cobwebs it makes me think she would just be glad to be rid of it. After running a cloth over the glass she rests it down on the counter top. “One piece.”
I hand over the single silver coin and take the offered bottle of wine along with the wooden tankards she hands me. As I approach the table I begin to hear the conversation going on between the group just a Leliana begins to snigger. “You better not let her, hear your say that.”
“Hear her say what?” I ask, placing the wine bottle and the tankard ontp the wooden table, making both women fall into silence, Leliana with her lips pulled into a satisfied smirk and Isabella almost topples over her drink before casting her wide eyes in my direction.
Leliana opens her mouth to speak but it beaten by Isabella as she stands from the table and attempt to halt any speech from my mate. “I may or may not have said anything.”
I raise a single eyebrow and cannot for the life of my think of anything she could have said in jest that would have her fear me so. I draw breath to try and pry it out of the pirate but I am stopped by the tiniest of voices calling my name.
My eyes are drawn to Leliana, expecting her to draw my attention away from the topic of discussion only to find her looking at the elf at her side, whom must have been the voice I heard. The realisation dawns on me that this elf knowns my given name and is confident to use it in public. This fact draws my gaze to the small elf and the sight shocks me to the very core. Wise green eyes I truly never thought I would see again meet mine, holding my gaze a sucking the breath from my body. “Lyna?”
Tears spring to my eyes and I compose myself enough to drawn breath and swallow the growing lump in my throat. “Merrill?” She's much thinner and paler than I remember, but still Merrill. Still the young mage I lead down into the elven ruins, still the keepers chosen first. Still the tiny young girl my parents took in to raise as their own. Still the sister I wished for so long I had not left behind.
As I step around Leliana, Merrill stands from her seat and promptly falls against my chest, gripping the material of my shirt. Instinctively my arms clamp around her shoulders to hold her against my body. Silent sobs rack through her tiny frame, trying to speak to me in Dalish over the hitching of her breath.
My lips find her hair as they always used to and I mumble. “I missed you too.”

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A/N : In all honesty this was just a little price of randomness that I couldn’t get out of my head. So I present it to you for inspection. I have absolutely no idea where this is going to go. So may just play through the game and pick up some quests to dramatise a little bit. Any requests, criticisms and comments are welcomed with open arms.
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The First's Sister