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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight	By : Serena_Hawke-Theirin Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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As Miriana Amell lay in her bed, she watched a tiny light wisp dance across her fingertips. The sensation of warmth emitting from the faint glow put a smile on the mage’s face. Lumia was the first wisp she ever conjured, and had been her constant companion since she was just a girl.

“Alright, Lumia,” she whispered. “I would like to get back to my book now, please. If you don’t mind.”

The wisp floated away from the young woman’s hand then hovered above the pages of the leather bound book, providing just enough light to read. It was well after midnight, more than two hours since lights out in the mage’s hall, but it was such a good story. Miriana’s favorite, in fact.

She squinted her eyes as she continued perusing the text through the lenses of her squared, steel-framed glasses. The spectacles helped, of course. Without them, Miriana wouldn’t have a chance of making out the words detailing the adventures of Gerard the pirate, but the wisp’s lambency was hardly ideal for reading. She didn’t dare uncover the lyrium lamp above her bed, though. She knew from experience the radiance of the brighter light would call the attention of the templars roaming the corridor. Lumia’s light, on the other hand, could only be seen from Miriana’s side of the room.

The mage pulled her knees up and settled the book on her makeshift reading stand and massaged the skin around her already red wrists. Sweet Andraste, how she hated new robes. The thread of the freshly stitched seams felt like dozens of tiny pinpricks poking into her sensitive flesh. After her robes were laundered a few times, the affliction would cease. Until then, however, she was simply forced to suffer through.

Miriana had always been susceptible to skin irritation, as well as over reactive to loud noises and bright lights. She also found extreme discomfort in the midst of large groups of people, especially if they were people she didn’t know well. Her father referred to her as delicate. Her twin sister, however, simply called her a baby.

Although they were only five when the templars took Solona away, Miriana still possessed vivid memories of her twin. The two girls may have looked alike, but they were opposite in nearly every other way. Where Solona was brazen and loud, Miriana was timid and reserved. Their differences often led to trouble between the two girls, usually ending with Solona wailing on her sister, but Miriana found she still missed her twin terribly sometimes.

When the itching had died down, and the sleeves of her robes been rolled further up her forearm, Miriana finally returned to her book. She sighed as she read how the rogue took the noble lady in his arms and pressed his mouth to hers in a long, passionate kiss. If only her life were that exciting. She dreamed of grand adventures on the open sea with a handsome rogue. If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the ocean breeze and feel Gerard’s arms tighten around her waist as he placed his lips on her bare shoulder.

Picturing herself in the stories she read was the mage’s favorite pastime. While dreaming of the dashing Gerard was certainly her most favored fantasy, many tales had fanned the flames of her imagination as well as her love of reading. The characters in those stories were more than simple words on a page, they were her friends. She celebrated their victories and mourned their losses just as if they really existed.

Real people, the ones that resided in Miriana’s tangible world, were a lot more difficult to adapt to. Because she spent the better part of her time with her nose stuck in a book, most people at the Circle of Ostwick considered her strange. That coupled with her shyness and the rumors that spread like wildfire upon her arrival to the Circle made making friends near impossible. Miriana didn’t mind so much. She had her books to keep her company. She did manage to make one actual friend, however, her best friend. An apprentice one year her junior who possessed a bad temper and a penchant for trouble and cryomancy.

Julia Trevelyan wielded ice better than any other mage in the tower, perhaps all of Thedas, but when she was angry, she tended to lose control over her gift. When the apprentice’s temper flared, the very air around her would chill, causing ice to form on everything in her vicinity. Unlike Miriana, who was grateful for the templars rescuing her from a frightening and uncertain future, Julia was never happy with life in the Circle and did her best to make everyone around her as miserable as she felt. She was forever getting into trouble for playing pranks on the templars and senior enchanters. Unfortunately, when she did, she tended to drag Miriana along for the fun and the punishment. Over the years, the two of them were confined to solitary more times than either girl could count.

Gerard was in the middle of a swordfight with the noble lady’s dastardly husband when Miriana discerned the padding of light footsteps approaching her bed. With a wave of her left hand, she quickly dismissed Lumia. With her right, she shoved the book under the blanket next to her then closed her eyes to feign sleep.

“I know you’re awake, Miri” she heard her best friend say. “You forgot to take off your glasses again.”

The older girl opened her lids to find the apprentice’s face just inches above her, staring into her eyes. Miriana recalled the wisp and was greeted with the sight of tiny flecks of violet sparkling within a field of cornflower blue. The mage produced a sheepish smile as she removed her spectacles.

“I thought you might have been one of the templars,” she fibbed.

Miriana knew it was Julia from the quiet sound of her bare feet shuffling over the marble tiles. If it had been templars, the clanking of heavy armor would have given them away.

“You’re a terrible liar, Miri,” Julia chided. “I don’t know why you bother.”

“Sorry, Jules,” Miriana apologized.

When the younger woman pulled back the blanket and snatched the book hidden there, Miriana tried to grab it, but Julia jerked it away. The mage cringed while Julia read the cover aloud.

“The Pirate Gerard,” she announced in a mocking tone. “By Cirrav Sarthet.” She waggled her head with a scowl. “How in the Maker’s name do you read such drivel?”

Miriana seized the book from her friend’s grasp then tucked it back under her blanket. “It’s my favorite.”

Julia shook her platinum blonde head, causing the long, thick braid over her shoulder to sway gently. “I don’t understand why you torture yourself with such stories when you know neither of us will ever see the sun again.”

“It’s not that bad, Jules. Most people never get the chance to experience those types of adventures, to really live, but it is fun to dream about.”

The blonde woman shrugged. “If you say so.”

Miriana touched her friend’s cheek. She was a beauty. Far more beautiful than Miriana. If that weren’t enough, Julia exuded a natural grace and elegance the older girl could never hope to possess. In a lot of ways, she imagined Julia was a lot like Solona would have been at that age.

Miriana sat up and tucked her legs beneath her bottom. “So, how did your date go?” she asked in a bid to change the subject.

Julia grimaced. “Voshell is a pig. You should be thanking me for taking him off your hands.”

Miriana felt a small twinge in the pit of her stomach. For years, since the first time the older girl showed the slightest interest in boys, Julia always managed to find a way to turn their heads toward her. She would seduce them long enough to insult or injure them then throw them by the wayside. To make matters worse, she always expected Miriana to thank her for the favor. Miriana tried not to let it bother her, but her self-esteem always died a little each time it happened.

“He was that bad?” the mage questioned. “I always thought he was kind of nice.”

Julia harrumphed. “Yes, until he gets you alone. Then he’s all hands.” She used her mana to cause crystals of ice to form at her fingertips. “I don’t think he will be trying that again anytime soon, though.”

“Julia!” Miriana exclaimed. “You didn’t!”

“Just a little bit of ice applied to the right place at the right time,” she smirked. “There are some parts of a man’s anatomy that should never get frostbite.”

“You know Wenda is going to confine you to your room again for this,” Miriana warned.

Julia arched a brow. “Do you really think he will tell anyone?”

The other girl bit her lower lip. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t. Still, it was a mean trick.”

“But it taught him a valuable lesson,” the apprentice said in a haughty tone. “Now he will always remember when a lady says no, she means no.” She then brushed away the long sable curls from the side of Miriana’s face before placing a soft kiss upon her lips. “Besides, who needs men when we have each other?”

Miriana lay back onto her pillow. It was always the same thing. Julia would meet with a young man, visit her friend afterward, then want to engage in more carnal activities. It wasn’t exactly an unpleasurable experience, at least it hadn’t been in many years, but Miriana was never thrilled by the prospect. She longed for the company of someone other than Julia. She wanted to know the touch of a man. It was a welcome distraction, however, and maybe it would help soften the blow Miriana knew she would have to deliver before the next evening came.

Earlier in the day, she had been approached by First Enchanter Wenda, who told her she was to be transferred to the Circle Tower in Ferelden. It seemed that Kinloch Hold had recently lost three of its mages. One was a very talented young entropy mage who had been conscripted by the Grey Wardens, and the second a mediocre apprentice who employed blood magic to flee the tower. The third was a spirit healer known for his daring and creative escape attempts. It had been said the only reason the healer hadn’t been made tranquil already after being brought back to Kinloch six times was because he was the finest that Circle had ever seen. The sixth escape, however, seemed to be the Knight Commander’s breaking point. That healer had been locked in the deepest dungeons of the tower for a year and refused to cooperate with the templars any further upon his release.

With the healer’s abilities no longer available, Kinloch was in need of a new one to take his place. Wenda had been reluctant to agree to the tower’s request, but with the threat of a Blight looming in Ferelden, she finally gave in and chose to transfer Miriana. The First Enchanter informed her student that the templars being sent to escort her would arrive sometime the next afternoon, and to make sure she had everything ready when they did.

Before bed that evening, Miriana had already taken care of everything…everything but facing her best friend. She was unsure what Julia would do or say when she heard the news. Would she be hurt? Yes, Miriana was sure of it, but far worse, Julia would be furious. The thought of the apprentice unleashing the full weight of her anger gave the mage more than a little pause.

As Miriana fell asleep in Julia’s embrace, she freed her mind from her concern about her lover to fantasize once again about a man who didn’t exist. The man of her dreams. Although she would never know him, never gaze lovingly into his eyes and him into hers, she could still dream about him.

The following morning, Miriana sat in the library trying to read, but the two apprentices at the next table were making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate. Normally, apprentices weren’t allowed to use the mage’s library, but the First Enchanter sometimes made concessions for those who were nearing their Harrowing. For almost an hour, the young men engaged in conversation about the different mage factions and news that trickled in about the other Circles in Thedas.

Miriana couldn’t take it anymore. Rage she couldn’t explain boiled in her stomach. She had difficulties enough trying to concentrate on her book without the added distraction of the two apprentices. She had come into that library specifically to get away from the noise of idle chatter and the sound of armored footfalls on marble. Normally she would sit in her room to read, but she was making it a point to avoid Julia as long as she could.

She covered her ears in an attempt to shut out the clamor, but it didn’t help. She detested the idea of confrontation, but if she didn’t find relief from the incessant babbling soon, her anger was going to overtake her. When she had endured all she could stand, she glared at the apprentices and slammed her book shut before relocating to a table on the other side of the room.

The moment Miriana had settled into a more comfortable and quieter spot, the sound of familiar footfalls upon marble tile echoed throughout the room. She lowered her book just enough to peek over the top of it, and her stomach sank at the sight of Julia making her way toward her. The mage buried her nose back in the tome and slumped down further into her chair, praying Julia hadn’t spotted her. When her book was yanked out of her hand, she knew she was out of luck and out of time.

“So,” Julia bellowed. “You were just going to leave. Without even telling me.”

Miriana sat up straight in her seat. “No, Jules. I would never do that.”

“Oh, so you were just going to wave goodbye as you walked out the door? Was that the plan? Was it?” Miriana squirmed uncomfortably upon her chair, and Julia slammed her hands down on the table’s surface, prompting the young men to scurry out into the corridor. “Stop fidgeting, Miri, and answer the damned question.”

Gooseflesh formed on Miriana’s arms from the sudden drop in the room’s temperature. Upon exhaling, she could see the cloud of her breath. She trembled as she stared into the other woman’s eyes. When Julia was angry, the violet flecks within would grow brighter and larger. At that very moment, they had become so enlarged that the blue hue had all but disappeared. In fact, Julia’s eyes were never more violet.

“I…I don’t know what to say Jules” the younger mage stuttered. “I was going to come talk to you, truly. I suppose I was just waiting for the right time…to try to find the exact right way to tell you.”

Tears began to stain Julia’s cheeks. “I thought we were friends, Miriana…I thought we were…”

She spun around and ran toward the door leading to the main hallway. As she went, the shelves she passed became encased in ice. Miriana stared down at the frost covered table in front of her for several moments, tucked her glasses in the left hand pocket of her robe, then slowly rose from her chair to follow the other woman. As she passed through the room, she cast counterspells on the bookshelves to remove Julia’s enchantments.

Once in the corridor, Miriana followed the trail of ice crystals up the stairs to an empty storeroom. When she entered the darkened chamber, she was greeted by the sound of Julia’s sobs reverberating in the frigid blackness. Miriana called upon Lumia to light the room and saw her friend slumped in the furthest corner with her knees pulled tight to her chest.

“Jules?” she whispered.

“Go away,” Julia sniffed.

Miriana approached the other woman slowly, afraid if she moved too suddenly she would find herself encased in ice. Julia didn’t attempt to harm the mage, she just continued to cry. Miriana sat down beside her friend, and put her arm around the sobbing woman. Julia tried to shy away from the contact, but the older girl tightened her grip.

“Jules…” she began. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I really wasn’t. Quite the opposite in fact. I was putting off telling you because I wanted to keep from upsetting you for as long as possible. It was wrong. I…I’m sorry you had to find out from someone other than me.”

Julia nuzzled her face against Miriana’s shoulder. “What am I going to do without you Miri? You’re my best friend…my only friend. Everyone else in this Maker-forsaken place hates me.”

“They don’t hate you, Jules. They just don’t understand you the way I do.”

“When you go, I’ll have nothing…no one. The Knight Commander will probably order the Rite.”

“They’re not going to make you tranquil, Jules,” Miriana assured her. “Wenda won’t let them.”

Julia peered up at the woman who had been her lover for the past six years. Her eyes had returned to their usual cornflower blue. “Isn’t there some way to convince the First Enchanter to allow you to stay?”

Miriana shook her head. “No. I already asked Wenda. She said I have no choice in the matter.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. She did ask to stay, but she didn’t try very hard to talk the First Enchanter into changing her mind. The truth was, Miriana did want to leave Ostwick, and Julia was the reason for it. She had always suspected it, but over the previous year, she finally realized that Julia’s affections were about more than mere friendship. Although Julia was her best friend, and even her lover, she just couldn’t reciprocate those feelings. She loved Julia, just not in that way. There was only one escape from her situation. She had to leave Ostwick, forever.

Julia placed a gentle kiss on Miriana’s lips. “You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you,” she said.

The dark haired mage lightly stroked the other woman’s cheek. “I’m going to miss you too, Jules. You’re my dearest friend.”

Julia’s gaze deepened. The violet flecks within the calm, glimmering blue orbs shimmered brilliantly in Lumia’s soft glow. “I love you,” she whispered. “I have always loved you, Miri. And I always will.”

Miriana smiled down at the woman in her arms. “I know. I love you too, Jules.”

Julia pulled her lover’s head toward hers and their lips met once again, but the kiss was deeper, more passionate. Julia lay back on the floor, taking Miriana with her. She ran the fingers of her right hand through Miriana’s hair, as her left hand began undoing the eyehooks along the back of the older girl’s robes.

“I need you,” Julia whispered in a desperate, husky tone.

Miriana complied with her request by pulling her own robes over her head and removing her breast band. Julia lurched forward, capturing her lover’s right nipple between her lips. She suckled it as Miriana unfastened her robes and pulled her free of them.

Once they were both completely nude, Miriana kissed her way down Julia’s stomach to her thighs. When her tongue grazed the other woman’s most sensitive spot, Julia lurched her hips forward and threw her legs over her lover’s shoulders.

The two women enjoyed each other for what felt like hours there on the cold stone floor of the storeroom in the light wisp’s glow. When they finally collapsed in each other’s arms, both completely spent, Miriana fell asleep almost immediately.

Sometime later, she was awakened by someone gently shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Wenda’s face, lit by a small ball of light within her palm.

“Miriana,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

The younger mage nodded her head and slipped out of Julia’s embrace, trying her best not to disturb the other woman. After replacing her robes, Miriana located a blanket on one of the shelves then covered Julia with it. She placed a soft kiss on her friend’s forehead.

“Goodbye, Jules” she murmured before creeping to the door, relieved to finally be afforded the chances she could never have while Julia remained part of her life.

Varric wasn’t exactly subtle with that pseudonym. The worst part was that those Gerard books were so bad, he felt he needed to use the alias in the first place. I would say I couldn’t fault him too much, seeing as it was his first attempt as an author, but considering they were about me…Well, let’s just say I was never pleased to be associated with those Maker-awful things.

Miri never spoke of Julia often. In fact, she rarely spoke of her time in Ostwick at all. When I met Julia Trevelyan during the time of the Inquisition, I must admit I never understood why any man would prefer her over Miri. She was pretty enough, but her attitude always left me a bit cold, if you know what I mean.

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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight