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Vhenan'ara	By : Arcanis_Born Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 6576 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from this.

Chapter List
- 37
- 38
- 39
Dragon Age: Origins is owned by Bioware, as with all its characters, the story as it deviates from canon is mine, however, as with the personalities of characters as they deviate from those in the game.
Thank you all so much for your continued readership! It means so much! And a BIG thank you to everyone who leaves a review!
Translations:
None this chapter.

It was practically dark by the time Riel finally called for camp to be set up. They should have stopped hours ago, however the longer they travelled, the longer she could put off the inevitable heartache night would bring. Being free from the horrors of the Deep Roads, Riel thought that she should be relieved. Happy even. With each step she took away from that cursed place, the whispers in mind lessened until all but disappeared. Only if she sought out of the deep hypnotic voice in her mind would she find its echoes. Like a dangerous animal outside of the glow of a fire, Riel would poke at the voice just to make sure that it was still there and know just how far away it was.
Even her head and body aches had decreased. Yet two weeks of exhaustion still weighed heavily upon her. Not able to deal with setting up her own tent, and Riel set her bedroll upon the ground and laid down. Looking up at the stars above eased a part of her that had longed for such a sight while deep underground. Yet even the beautiful vision of the heavens above couldn't ease the pain in her chest.
The mood of the camp seemed to match her own. Tents quickly set up and people retreating inside of them. Even Oghren, the dwarf from Orzammar. Apparently like Wynne before him, he had become with the Wardens and wished to join Riel and Alistair in their fight against the Blight. Not that it bothered Riel. One more sword at her back. Oghren's addition brought the group's warriors numbers up to three, in addition to the stone golem, making four skilled warriors to help her fight. Two mages, three rogues and a mabari hound rounded out the collection of misfits and fighters.
And yet out of all of them, only a single face haunted Riel's memories. A single smile. A single touch. A true travelling party of adventurers she had managed to assemble. However, it was the memory of a single pair of honeyed eyes that refused to leave her be. As much as she inwardly cursed and railed against the images of her mind, still they persisted, taunting and tormenting her until Riel felt as if she were going to go mad from it.
The memory of his eyes wasn't the only thing that tormented her, either. Riel could feel the eyes of her companions on her. All during the mostly silent walk down the mountain as they travelled. Even now as she laid still on her bedroll by the fire. Hushed tones whispered, her advanced hearing picking up parts of their conversations that they thought that she couldn't. Words of concern over her. Heated words of anger against both Alistair and Zevran. Even the dwarf's jokes carried over to her as Riel watched the stars above her.
Getting tired of their whispers and stares, Riel stood from her bedroll in a huff. Marching over to Morrigan's fire, she then stood silently by the flames as she thought of the exact words she wanted to say. Yet doubt and fear of rejection pulled at her, making Riel almost lose her nerve and return back to the main fire.
"That old woman has requested my aid in showing her some of the more rare healing herbs," Morrigan stated suddenly, breaking the silence between them. "After that I am to be standing watch with that atrocious fiend of a Warden as per my penance. As such, I will be away from tent for some time. However, while walking I managed to gather some fine smelling herbs. Normally this would not be worth mentioning, yet these herbs are known to be favorites of local rodents and night birds. So I ask you this, to watch over my drying herbs and deter the furry and feathered menaces from stealing them while I attend to my other duties. If you are unable, I shall seek out Leliana. Although that loathsome woman does have a habit of rearranging my piles…." Morrigan stated with a grumble. "What say you? Shall I fetch Leliana, or will you seek your rest here while I attend to my duties?"
Riel didn't say anything, words of gratitude and appreciation lost in the storm that she floated through. Instead she placed her bedroll on the ground by Morrigan's fire and laid down on it.
"Good. However, my herbs dry best in the dark. As such, they are within my tent. Therefore if you are to stay and keep them safe, you are to seek your rest inside."
Riel looked over at Morrigan, her vision blurring due the tears that gathered there. Yet the witch didn't seem to notice her emotional state as she continued to arrange various things in her pack and beside her fire. Standing, Riel gathered up her bedroll and walked past Morrigan and into her tent. Immediately the absence of the eyes Riel had felt on since leaving Orzammar was a weight gone from her neck. Sighing deeply, Riel adjusted her bedroll on the ground next to Morrigan's and laid down once more.
"I am to be off then," Morrigan's voice drifted in through the open tent flap. "That hound of yours has decided that it has need to settle its foul smelling self just outside of my tent. Do try to not trip over it if you feel the need to leave the tent for any reason."
The woman's voice had dripped with irritation and Riel could easily imagine the swears the woman had mentally uttered to her mabari. Yet it was something normal for the woman. To grouse and curse at Fen'harel whenever the hound chose to lay near by her. To make remarked about how the hound stunk or tried to give the woman 'disgusting tongue baths' as Morrigan would put it.
However, there was no soft whispers from Morrigan. No sideways glances filled with worry or concern as they travelled. The witch was as she normally was. Distant. Friendly without being overbearing. And she didn't coddle or constantly ask if Riel was 'okay' every so often as Wynne and Leliana had. With Morrigan, there was no shoulder to cry on, but sometimes that was exactly what Riel needed. Not a comforting hug, but someone who understood that when a storm raged inside of your own mind, sometimes the best thing you could offer someone was solitude.
Riel said a prayer of thanks to Mythal for deep friendship that she had found in the witch. A kinship that given the turmoil in her mind right now, she needed more than most anything. Now if only she could force her mind to forget a certain charming smile and honeyed eyes long enough for her to finally get some rest.

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Leliana stood with her bow ready as she watched the darkness before her. After they had made camp, both Wynne and her had made up the watch schedule for the group. Any relief they could give their weary leader while she dealt with her her inner struggle. Riel didn't even seem to notice, instead almost immediately setting up her bedroll after she had a fire going and laying down next to it. Hardly a word was spoken by the woman since leaving Orzammar, and her mood reflected in the moods of the others of the group as well.
Sten was resting in his tent, as his turn was after Leliana's. Shale was on the other side of the camp, watching with her glowing eyes for anything that might think of disturbing their camp. Wynne was by the fire, silently drinking her evening tea and she stared into the flames. Oghren - their newest addition - was drinking some form of ale he had carried since leaving Orzammar. The foul smell of the liquid even reaching Leliana over a dozen feet away.
Two members of their group were missing from sight. Alistair, the handsome yet foolish ex-Templar male Warden had set up his tent then left, muttering something about checking the parameter. Zevran, the equally handsome elven assassin hadn't even bothered to set up a tent before disappearing into the shadows. He also didn't give a reason for his departure either, instead just silently slipping away after making sure that Riel was lying safely by the fire.
Sighing deeply, Leliana watched sadly as Riel had gotten up from her bedroll and walked over to where Morrigan was by her fire. Aside from when they travelled in the Deep Roads, the young witch insisted on keeping her own fire away from the others. Something that always made Leliana wonder, even if she didn't question her about it. When you travel with a group of people consistently for a period of time, certain measures of privacy needed to be observed. Morrigan's distance and personal privacy were such a thing.
So had Riel's insistence on her own privacy and distance from the group, even if she expressed it different. Her personal space kept almost sacred, where even her belongings were left untouched by everyone but her. Her own room when they rested in towns. Her past a subject of even greater taboo than Morrigan's was. Maker's breath, Leliana knew more details about Morrigan's past than she did about Riel's. And while Leliana was no fool and knew that her dear friend had suffered horribly in her past, Riel had never spoken of what had happened to her before her clan had adopted her.
However, Riel's near constant nightmares were more than enough for Leliana to piece together enough of the young woman's past that Leliana couldn't help but burn with anger at the thought of it. Her own past filled with it's own troubles and horrors, Leliana had felt a kinship with the tough and abrasive woman almost immediately. And over these past few months of travelling together, that kinship had changed into something closer. Something undefinable. Beyond the words of friendship or even sister. There no sexual tension between the two women, yet the bond they shared didn't require it to flourish. Leliana's love for their female Warden was beyond what she could describe, even as a well trained bard. Which is why it also hurt her so deeply to see Riel and the man she loved in so much pain right now.
Damn it, Alistair! Leliana cursed to herself.
For all of his obsession towards their leader, all it had brought them all was more suffering. And yet, even despite his bumbling, Leliana couldn't fault the ex-Templar completely. Just as Riel, he was inexperienced when it came to matters of the heart. Leliana has spent a lot of time with those who were raised in the Chantry. Even Templars - who were not bound by the same oaths as Chantry Brothers, were usually naive in matters of women until after they had completed their vows. Unlike the Brothers, Templars were allowed to marry and seek comfort in the flesh of another. Yet they were supposed to remain chaste until such a time that they took a spouse.
Alistair's obsession was little more than a man's first love, so right and sure in his mind that it must have been Maker ordained. And any adversary in that love seen as an interloper. A despised rival who was immediately not worthy of the woman of his affections. In Alistair's naive mind, Riel had become a prize to be won. Something to be protected and held aloft from any who would seek to attain her for themselves. This clouded thinking resulting in even if Maker himself would make himself a man and approach Riel, Alistair would still find the newcomer lacking in some way.
None were good enough for her. Save, perhaps for himself. Which was also why Alistair constantly sought out to prove himself to her. To show her his prowess on the battlefield. To show his devotion through protecting her. To try and provide her with whatever she needed. Yet his own naivety blinded and even doomed him from the start.
Riel didn't need protection during battle. Over time, she had become almost as deadly with her blades as Zevran was. When she fought, she fierce, agile, and able to swiftly strike out with her blades with such precision that even made Leliana look on with awe. And while not every battle was over quickly and far from easy, Maker knew Riel could more than look out for herself.
And while her brutal past had given the elven woman a type of fragility to her, Riel didn't want or need someone to treat her with white gloved hands either. She was capable of facing down enemies five times her size with a type of confidence that Leliana would normally ascribe to the insane. No matter who or what they found themselves fighting, Riel faced them all with courage that astounded Leliana.
No, Riel's wasn't some fragile glass vase in need of protecting from some outer foe. If Riel needed protecting, it was from things far more dangerous than anything you could strike out at with blade or arrow. Things that existed within her own mind that haunted and tore at her constantly. Memories. Dark whispers. Things only she could hear or see. Those were the adversaries that Riel needed help battling. And Alistair, for all his desire to protect her, just was not capable of doing that for her.
Zevran, on the other hand, was. It was interesting, Leliana mused. That a man such as Zevran - raised in a whore house and well used to the pleasures of the flesh - would be more well suited for a woman with such a brutal sexual past as Riel. Where Alistair, a man who - while inexperienced - would be every bit the virgin in the matters of carnal pleasures, was not who would end up breaking that final chain holding Riel back from finally healing.
Perhaps though, the Maker had made it so. That he had seen Riel's fractured heart and brought her a man who would finally be able to sew it back together again. To be everything that Riel thought that she hated, yet turning out to be everything that had needed most.
Then why fate being so cruel to her friend now? After each struggle that each of them have battled through, to end up like this? With Riel in even more pain than she was when Leliana had first met her. For Zevran to be off in the middle of the darkness, doing Maker knows what why Leliana knew that he suffered just as greatly as Riel did. The two of them needed each other. As if they were lovers in one of her tales, the two elves seemed constantly torn apart despite how much they cared for each other. Each time worse than the last.
Leliana looked again over to Morrigan's fire. Through the open tent flap, she was able to see Riel resting inside of the witch's tent, her faithful mabari lying asleep by the fire close to her. Too bad men weren't more like mabaris Leliana thought to herself with a sad smile. Loyal to their chosen mistress or master, mabaris would only leave their charge in either death or when ordered to do so. Even then, the sever of the relationship harmed the animal. Often never choosing another master, the mabari would roam the wilds, fighting for survival until one day when they could fight no more.
"Perhaps they aren't so different after all," Leliana said quietly to herself.
Sighing deeply, Leliana again searched the darkness. Her eyes checking every shadow and dark pocket in the trees surrounding them for signs of blonde hair or the silver flash of blades as they swung out in the night. Leliana supposed she could always get Shale to bring the Antivan back. Her glowing eyes and body allowing the golem to see farther than Leliana could at this time of night.
However, how to get to the two stubborn elves to speak to one another? To bridge the gap that secrets and pain had caused between them. Not that Leliana had exactly forgiven the Antivan for his part in the hurt that Riel was currently suffering. In her mind, both men were idiots who could use a good arse kicking. Yet, she couldn't let things stay as they were now. Not with Riel in so much pain. She may be fueling herself on anger now, yet Leliana knew that anger was a terrible source to pull energy from. It left one even more vulnerable, and when fighting enemies such as demons and Darkspawn, Riel couldn't afford any more vulnerabilities.
"Blessed Andraste, please guide me. Show me a way to bring these two lovers back together. And help me to ease the heart of the one that I… care for…." Leliana whispered the prayer to herself, giving her words to the wind so that they may be brought to the Maker's ears.

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Riel came awake with a start, the fleeting images of her nightmare flashing before her open eyes. Breathing heavily, she looked around herself, trying to get her bearings. Oh right… Morrigan's tent Riel thought to herself. Looking outside, the sun was barely coming up in the distance. The only sounds she could hear was the gentle snoring of her hound, resting just outside of the tent.
Stretching her stiff arms, Riel cursed to herself before getting up. Funny, before Zevran, Riel was used to waking up before everyone else. Her nightmares driving away her sleep and making sure that she was the first to greet each day. Even among her clan, Riel was most often the first one to be up and walking around. The peace of the mornings had comforted Riel. Giving her a time away from the peering eyes of others where she could walk freely without fear or nervousness.
Now though, the morning was empty of such peace. Gone were the miles of rock and dirt that has loomed over her head, yet Riel felt the same then as she did those few mornings in the Deep Roads when Zevran had slept apart from her. Before, it had been a misunderstanding. Born out of insecurities and fear. Now….
Riel's eyes drifted over to the other fire and the tents that clustered around it. The fire in the center of the tents was low, yet Riel could not see if anyone was lying next to it. Standing just beyond the tents, Sten's solid form could be made out as he slowly walked, his keen eyes focused and alert as he guarded their sleeping companions.
Her heart heavy in her chest, Riel walked over to the wagon that Bodahn and his son tended to. With this presence now added back to their group, Riel was able to store their extra belongings without having to carry them constantly with her as they travelled. However, seeing as she didn't set up her own tent the night before, her washing cloth and other similar things were still in the wagon.
Gathering up her belongings, Riel reached for an extra water skin and bowl to wash with. There was no stream or other source of water near by, so a simple wet cloth would have to do to wash the previous day's grime from her. Unbidden, an image of when Zevran had washed her down in their tent came to her mind. Silently he had washed her down, the sadness hanging between them thick enough to cut by a blade.
Tears gathered in Riel's eyes as she remembered how gentle he was with her. Taking the time to remove her armor as he wiped all the blood and dirt from her. She remembered how upset he had looked then. His features a mixture of anger and concern. Then slowly just showing his deep sadness. By the time he got to her face, all Riel could see was the love and hurt on his face. Was he faking it? Just how good of an master of emotions was he? Was it even possible to fake the looks that he gave to her? To fake the love he showed her?
I don't want to love anymore Riel thought bitterly to herself as she wiped at the tears on her face. Love hurt. It hurt worse than not loving. Or so Riel figured. After all, her chest didn't hurt like this before she had fallen for his laughing eyes and charming smile While she was lonely before, the large ache she felt now was definitely worse than it was then. And while she spent most of her time angry or annoyed before, this terrible sadness that filled her had to be worse than how she felt before.
All of what Riel felt at that moment was far worse than what she had felt before a certain golden skinned elf crashed into life and shook everything to pieces. Before he had whispered his soft words to her, or made her feel as if not all everyone was out to hurt her in some ways. Riel wanted to go back to that numbness. To turn her heart back into the stone that it was. Where it couldn't be hurt or shattered so easily by simple words or actions.
"Sod it!" Riel cursed out angrily. What was the point of love if it only destroyed everything good that it touched? Why did people fall so blindly for it, even knowing that it held nothing but pain and despair for them? "No more!" she hissed out as she washed herself down with the cold water.
With angry swipes, Riel scrubbed her skin, not caring if she took skin off along with the grime. The dirt that she felt covered her went far deeper than merely the surface. The taint that flowed through her veins causing Riel to feel as if even her own blood was somehow dirtied. Scrubbing with fevered strokes, Riel didn't notice when hot tears rolled free from her eyes and down her cheeks. The water sloshing in the bowl each time she dunked the cloth back in it, Riel cried furiously as she ran the cloth in hard strokes back and forth against her skin.
"I don't want to love anymore! I don't want to! Please Mythal! No more!" Riel begged in deep sobs. "Please… just please take it away…."
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Vhenan'ara