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Tainted Dreams	By : wyldehart Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All characters and Dragon Age are property of Bioware/EA. I made no money, sadly.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer:
I researched the sod out of Halamshiral and studied timelines and I place most of the historical part of the tale around the time of the second Blight, between about 1:90 Divine and 2:30 Glory. I am trying to maintain canon as much as possible with some leeway given for my own unusual plot circumstances. If someone has anything to note about this, something glaring, not something like, "they wore SATIN not SILK," let me know. I'm looking for accuracy here. And yes, I know that during a Blight, the Greys don't usually turn down potential recruits. But the reasons are clearly stated. Anyway, no sex, no real violence, just possibly inaccurate historical information.

Morning had dawned much too early and when Elissa awoke, she awoke to her husband's gold-brown eyes dreamily gazing into hers. He was stroking her cheek with his thumb and smiling. "Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?"
She nodded and stretched. "Oh I did! But… I think I was warmer last night…"
Her husband nipped at her nose playfully before kissing her firmly on the mouth. "That's because you spent the night as an 'Elissa Sandwich' between Ambrose and I. You seem to sleep really well that way so when he got up and moved over last night, I didn't say anything. He woke up a little while ago looking embarrassed but seemingly content."
She sat up, yawned and shivered in the cold tent. Eventually, they dressed and exited out into the Dalish camp. Ambrose was cheerfully talking to a young elfin woman in Orlesian but judging from her expression, she wasn't buying what he said. He laughed at her and looked up as Elissa and Alistair shouldered their weapons and their packs and headed his way through the new fall of fresh snow. It was snowing quietly around them and the camp had a muffled quality to it.
Ambrose walked up to her jovially and pulled her gear from her shoulders, ignoring her protests as he grabbed it. He put it down and took her hand then he whirled her about while humming an approximation of some happy song. After spinning her around until she was dizzy, he leaned her back and planted a very long wet kiss on her mouth. Alistair's eyes widened and he almost stormed up to Ambrose but seeing the man's smile stopped him. Then Ambrose winked slyly at him. It was then that he realized what the kiss was…
It was revenge for last night.
Alistair narrowed his eyes and smiled proudly.
She stood there, panting as she leaned her hand on Ambrose's shoulder. "I-I wow! That was… I need a bath now. A very cold bath to shock myself back to reality. You, ser, are an ass," she muttered darkly as she ran off to dunk herself in the frigid water. Alistair laughed as Ambrose strolled up to him, his arms crossed and a strange expression, a frown crossed with a smile, on his bearded face. He raised one thick eyebrow.
"The next time your wife flirts with me as she did last night, I won't jump in the lake, just so you know. And it will not be my fault. Do we have an understanding, Mon ve'erte?"
Alistair's only reply was a sly grin, the answer itself he kept inside his head. He already knew that was coming and for what it was worth, much of his jealousy was just an act. Elissa deserved that. He clapped Ambrose on the shoulder and picked up Elissa's gear, slinging it up with his own.
A few minutes later, Elissa arrived refreshed and smiling from her bath. She gave Ambrose a reproachful glare to which he replied with a playful smirk. She ate breakfast and the three of them headed to the big tent where the Keeper dwelled. She was ready at the entrance when they arrived. The cloak she wore was made of many kinds of fur. There was rabbit, wolf, fox, lynx, squirrel and many others. It covered her from her shoulders and drifted almost to her feet. Her hair was tucked up under the cloak, spilling over one arm. From its place in her embrace, the little white fox poked his nose out to see the people. "Are you ready to visit the ruins of Halamshiral, my friends?"
Ambrose nodded eagerly. She smiled and dropped the amulet into his hand. "You failed to collect this from me last night, child, so I took the liberty of fitting it with an appropriate chain. This way you can wear it. It is an item of great power and you should use it."
Ambrose took the amulet and slipped the silvery chain over his head then let the ancient metal fall to his chest. As he touched it, his eyes slid to Elissa's face and he licked his lips as he watched her. He had intended the kiss to be a kind of joke but it had been passionate and utterly to his liking. What was more, Elissa had kissed him back. Only intended as a quick, hard smooch, it wound up much longer for his prey's unexpected reciprocation. He really wanted to do it again…
"…Ambrose, we're leaving. Your head's in the clouds again…" Alistair was saying as he tugged Ambrose along. He staggered and jogged up to the Keeper's side. "So, we are going to learn about my ancestor now?" Ambrose asked her with a raised eyebrow.
The Keeper nodded as she ascended the stairs, the hem of her gown held in the hand not cradling the fox. Ambrose took her elbow politely as he would do with a lady of great rank. It was instinctive and earned him an approving smile for it. "You will also learn some history, my friend." She stood tall and moved to the ruined gate of the once proud city. "The tale I am about to tell sounds like the words of a ballad sung by Orlesian Minstrels, to be honest, but it is truer than any version the Human cities' libraries will tell. It has been passed from Keeper to Keeper throughout the ages and you are the first humans I have ever, in all my many years, told it to. I pray you hold it in your hearts and repeat it if you are asked.
"This city was the greatest city since our first, the great Arlathan, was felled by the Imperium before the Chantry existed. When we elves rose against the Imperium alongside the honorable Andraste, humans offered us this land known as the Dales and left us largely in piece." She walked among the buildings, pausing at times to point out a bit of creative masonry or a building that belonged to someone of importance.
"We rebuilt slowly but surely. Our ancestors even reclaimed a bit of the knowledge lost to us during ages of slavery and oppression. We began to live longer and our culture thrived. The art, oh, so breathtaking. Literature! Yes, we even had literature. Here, you see this massive building? You see the stones forming a curved wall over here and… and the wings! Come! Look at this! You are standing in the mightiest school that ever existed. It was a college of massive proportions. When humans began to seek out the instruction offered here, the Chantry began to take notice. Humans were turning away from the Maker and some were even learning our magic. Mathematics, science, astronomy… This place here, I think… Yes, it was part of a lecture hall. Students sat in tiered rows as a teacher educated them on history and language… Ah, but if we could have that again. But the Chantry was jealous…
"They asked us to build a place of Worship, which we refused. Even our own Gods were allowed only a token presence in Halamshiral because it was a place of learning and not a place of worship. They sent in their missionaries, who were politely refused. Then they sent in their Templars. Those were also refused. Our ancestors tried to be polite and reminded the Chantry numerous times that we were our own sovereign people who governed our own with our own laws, in our own ways and that we had our own gods and goddesses. Alas… They ignored our words and became ever determined to change us. For fifty years, they tried to undermine our ways." She paused by a building that might have once been someone's home. She placed the fox down on the ground and knelt sadly. "Halamshiral is the result of what happens when the power-hungry become more powerful and the corrupt thereby corrupt others in return. The Chantry's original goal was peaceful worship of a fine prophet and leader. Now, they seek to rule the world and damned if they have not succeeded."
She gestured to the building and touched Ambrose on the shoulder. "This was your ancestor's home. Ayeron Meriszanelan lived here during the last fifty years of our great city's existence. 'Le Vasuer une la Saguin', she is called. It means, 'The first and the Last'. She was the first, they say, to have herself conscripted as a Grey Warden when they refused to accept her. And she was the last to stand up to the Chantry during the final battle.
"She was a very powerful mage, one of the most powerful Battlemages to exist in our collective history. Meriszanelan had been fighting Darkspawn that lurked at the edges of our inhabited villages and the city itself. She grew restless, desiring a way to sense them thus making her efforts more effective. There was a blight to the north, you see, and the Darkspawn were swarming to the Archdemon's side. So, she left her home to seek out the Grey Wardens in Orlais. They refused to let her take part in the Joining because she was physically weak, even for an elf. They say she was small, very slender and delicate and the Wardens there believed she would die a wasteful death. That group was also cynical about the presence of women and elves as Grey Wardens anyway. What was worse…? They laughed at her.
"So she traveled on foot, alone, all the way north to Weisshaupt Fortress and it was there that she learned about the second Blight. They were preparing the final assault and needed Grey Wardens badly. But the Warden Commander told her she was too small and he feared for her should she take the Joining. It was repeat of the Orlesian's foolish excuses. Furious, she told him to accept her or, gods willing, she would 'conscript myself', she said. He was impressed and told her that should she survive the Joining, they would make a place for her.
"She did survive and traveled to the Freemarches where her magic aided the fight against the Archdemon. It was killed and the Darkspawn routed. At last, Ayeron Meriszanelan was free to head home after nearly ten years away. Then, a year later, the humans had had enough. The chantry made a horrific decision that would mean the end of our city, the home that we had known for almost three hundred years.
"To this day, we are not certain how we were blamed for the attack on Red Crossing, a human village in Orlais. It is suggested that Elfin slaves or those from the Alienage were paid handsomely to make us Dalish look terribly bad. Our histories maintain that we never committed the atrocities we were accused of. I believe we never attacked that village but who's to say who is right and who is wrong? The Chantry wanted to destroy us, and because of Red Crossing, the Orlesians declared war upon us and we defended ourselves, successfully for the most part. Our defense took them by surprise and the war lasted nearly fifteen years.
"During that time, Meriszanelan eventually got pregnant by an elf she met, a man she loved and who worked as a teacher in the college. She had been teaching magic and he was a scholar of history so they had made a wonderful pair. She gave birth to a baby girl during the height of the war. We pushed the battle on toward Val Royeaux where we sacked our way to the heart of Orlais. It didn't make us any friends but by this point, our goal was vengeance. The ancestors must have known we would lose but they were determined to cause as much damage as possible.
"Meanwhile, your ancestor, Ambrose, had turned her attention to defending Halamshiral. Eventually, the Orlesians broke through our defenses and our great city began to fall. She passed her infant daughter to a fleeing family and told them to defend her with their lives. They fled south and east, away from the city and deep into the dense forests of the Dales, where they could not be found.
"Meriszanelan used her combat magics, her shield magics and healing spells to allow the flight of most of the civilians. The last family she defended was that of a pregnant woman and her two small children. She gave the last of her magic to them in the form of a shield that protected them from every weapon the Orlesians and the Templars could hurl. She died at the hand of the Templar War Commander but not before using her sword to pierce his heart. When she died, those whose lives her magic saved fled deep into the forests and many headed east to Ferelden. Most survived.
"She became known as a hero though her name eventually faded from the collective memories of most of our keepers. I know it only because of our Clan's proximity to the ruins. The air is thick with history and stories of the great heroes who fell during this time. The Chantry erased the visages of our gods and defiled our buildings. They razed our city to the ground and destroyed the Heartwood Tree that had been so many things to us. If you look closely, you can see shadows of our architecture in stones left intact." The Keeper sighed as she looked around the ruins in sadness. "Then, bit by bit, the rest our settlements were destroyed and our people were forced either into the nomadic existence we Dalish have or the Flat ears, which dwell among humans as servants or live in the Alienage. It is not much of a choice in my opinion."
The little fox, ignored for some time now, placed its little black paws on Ambrose's leg. Smiling, he picked up the furry little thing and tucked it under his cloak where it settled in contentedly. "I assumed the daughter survived, Keeper?" he asked as his fingers suddenly became chew toys for needle-sharp teeth.
The elf-woman's eyes, so serene, so beautiful, settled on Ambrose's sun-tanned face. He stirred uncomfortably in that intense, leaf-eyed gaze. She nodded and raised her hand so he took it. They began to walk. "That daughter grew up in the wilds south of here. Her name is lost to me, however… When she was ten or so, her parents perished. But she, ever resourceful and gifted with her mother's magic, became the forest's mistress. She immersed herself in it, becoming one with nature. Rumors of the wild-woman's power spread and the humans begged the Chantry to do something about it. Evidently, she entertained herself by teasing men who came too close to where she hunted and then stole their equipment, leaving behind only the memory of her perfect body and her kiss." The keeper chuckled and picked up the hem of her dress as they descended the flight of stone steps once again.
"So they sent Templars. Many Templars. Those that returned refused to pursue her again, weeping as they described her beauty and her power. But one young man was intrigued and likely unimpressed by the Chantry's rules pertaining to marriage and sex and the like…"
"Keeper, Templars can have families," Alistair reminded her softly.
"It is true but the Chantry must choose whom and where and when and why and, most importantly, if. But unless they are singing a different tune these days, sex is still a sin and most Templars are very devout, eager to do anything the Chantry asks of them. This young man, was willing to, as it were, think outside the Chantry's 'box'. He was clever, this Templar and in spite of traps that left him hanging, naked, trapped in pits, wet and otherwise laughed at by the little maiden who all but owned that forest, he still continued to pursue her. Indeed, it eventually became a game to them! A playful exercise that pleased them both and, because of it, the sorceress of the wilds no longer preyed on unwary woodsmen. She still shot them full of arrows but at least they did not run back complaining they had been 'raped' and 'mugged'.
"One day, the Templar was once again trapped by the young woman and as she came near him, he found himself lost in love and unable to move if he wanted to. She kissed him and took him down from the hanging trap he languished in then led him to a secret bower deep in the forest where they made love all day and all night for many days. He found that he could no longer chase her and left, vowing to return for good. She knew not to await his return but still, she did and during that time, she gave birth to a son.
The Templar did return but because the boy looked human, she begged her lover to raise him amongst his own kind, for a forest was no place to raise an unmagically-talented child. The infant had no reason to hide yet she did. The Templar, who was now considered a rogue himself, was saddened for having to leave his beloved and tried to tell her that he would find her again. She gave him her mother's amulet and wept as they left. He never did see her again after that…
"So he raised his son and allowed the boy to keep Meriszanelan's name but shortened it to Meriszan because it sounded Orlesian. The Templar, hunted now as he was by the Chantry, took the name himself and eventually married and had other children. The name is not common but nor is it rare, because of this. I suspect, because of the amulet, that you are the latest of Meriszanelan's true line. Or one of them. It's been almost a thousand years so I cannot think there are none left of her lineage. One branch held onto that amulet that entire time and passed it down to family members to keep the memory alive. I find that… fascinating."
She turned in the late morning mist of snow and smiled at them as she stood before her tent. "And there you have the history of your ancestry and now you know a bit more about our fallen city. I hope I have enlightened you."
Ambrose handed her the little snow-fox and nodded happily. "I am honored that you took the time to teach us. I will never look at those ruins in the same way again, Keeper."
She kissed his cheek and backed slowly into the shadows of her tent as she said, "That is good, Ambrose. I do not know what use it is to you now but it must make you proud to know you are descended from pranksters, thieves and mages! Oh yes, and elves. Good luck on your journey, for I must rest now. Farewell."
Ambrose turned to his companions and grinned. "Shall we continue? Lydes is less than a day's journey and we should arrive by nightfall if we begin now! They have a very nice Inn if I recall… Huge beds and fine food…"
Alistair clapped him on the back and the tall Grey Warden staggered forward, laughing.
To be continued (with a nice fluffy chapter because History lessons are so DRAINING!)
- 19
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- 21
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Tainted Dreams