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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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Solona's head was still spinning when Cullen finally left her to return to his duties. As she unpacked her trunk and placed the carefully folded clothes into the dressing table next to her bed, she kept going over what just occurred in her mind. The entire encounter was completely and utterly confusing.

When she and the templar were sharing their second kiss, Solona began to lift the skirt of his armor as she urged him back toward her bed. Instead of the usual compliance she was accustomed to, he stood fast and took her hands into his. He then pulled away and, gazing deep into her eyes, softly kissed her knuckles. He flashed a dimpled, boyish, half grin and told her he looked forward to seeing her at supper. Then, after placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he circled and exited the room.

The young mage waggled her head as she organized her brushes and cosmetics inside the top drawer. What in the Maker's holy name was Cullen playing at? She was certain she made her intentions clear. How could she have made it any more plain other than just throwing him down on the bed and straddling him?

Perhaps he was too afraid they would be discovered to allow it to go any further. She felt his bulge. He was definitely interested. Maybe he was simply teasing her as payback for their earlier encounter. Anders did that on occasion.

Anders. Why couldn't she go more than half an hour without thinking of him? It had been a year since they were together. When was she ever going to be able to just let him go?

Solona grabbed the pillow from inside her trunk and hugged it to her chest. She inhaled the familiar, intoxicating scent of the healer's unique blend of natural musk, sandalwood, and spice which she convinced his friend Corbin to seal inside the cushion. The memory of the two of them lying together, their heads side by side on that pillow, reopened the same old wounds in her heart she had been trying to let heal. Fresh tears began to stain the padding to meld with the thousands that came before. How long? How long would this gut-wrenching agony go on?

He promised he wouldn't run again. He swore he would stay. How could he just lie to her face that way? Leave her like that? Why did everyone she loved leave? She thought of Jowan and the earlier conversation they had. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't abandon her. He knew what that would do to her, and he would never hurt her like that. They were all each other had, after all.

Solona glowered at the cushion clutched in her arms. And this Maker fucking thing.

She hurled it across the room where it bounced against the wall and silently landed on the stone floor. She was never going to get over Anders if she kept sleeping on that thing every night. Maybe she would go to ask Senior Enchanter Leorah for a new one.

But what if Leorah wants evidence that the old one's been destroyed?

She snatched the pillow from the floor and grasped both ends. The muscles of her biceps and forearms tightened as she began to yank the material in opposite directions. She wanted to destroy the thing, rip it into tiny pieces the way Anders had ripped apart her heart.

Just when the case began to give way, Solona stopped and fell back onto the bed. She couldn't do it. As much as she wanted to shred the Maker forsaken thing to bits, she could never cleave the memories of Anders from her mind. He was there with her, wherever she went. Always.

The mage heaved a long, forlorn sigh before tossing the pillow into the trunk next to her bed and kicking the lid shut. She would tell Leorah it got lost in the move, that it was completely destroyed by giant rats as she used it to fight them off and she was too frightened to gather the pieces. Maybe that would get enough of a laugh out of the cranky Enchanter to afford Solona a new one.

After reapplying her makeup in an effort to disguise the fact she had been crying, Solona walked out of her new quarters into the corridor. It was there that she found Jowan pacing back and forth with a worried scowl. She straightened her robes and donned the mask of indifference she had used so many times before to cover her true feelings.

"If you're not careful, your face is going to stick that way," she jested.

The apprehension in his green eyes as he turned to her gave Solona pause.

"I need your help," he told her, his voice quiet and desperate.

Her brow creased. "What's wrong, Jowan?"

He scanned the hallway. "Not here. Meet me in the chapel."

"Alright," she nodded.

Before she finished the gesture, her best friend was already headed down the hall, leaving Solona feeling dejected and dismissed. She had never seen him that way. Jowan had always been nervous and distracted, but this…this was different. There was a sadness to him, almost to the point of despondency. Her heart sank. As she watched the tail of his robes disappear around the curve of the corridor, she couldn't help but recall the first time they met.

When Solona arrived at the tower at the age of five, she was taken straight to the First Enchanter's office. Although she was frightened about what might happen to her, she managed to keep a brave face. She stood in front of Irving's desk, head held high with her balled fists held tight to her outer thighs.

The First Enchanter watched her for several minutes, his eyes narrowed in deep thought as he pulled at the end of his flowing, grey beard. Without a word, he walked from the room, leaving Solona to wonder if she were to receive some sort of punishment for her impertinence.

It seemed an eternity before he returned with a scrawny little dark haired boy in tow. The boy cowered next to the desk while the First Enchanter crouched down at Solona's side.

"My dear," he said. "This is Jowan. He's rather new to the tower himself."

Solona gave the boy a hint of a smile. He gulped before staring down at his feet.

Irving addressed him next. "Jowan, this is Solona." The boy continued to look at the floor. "I think it would be a good idea if the two of you stick together. Solona, I have assigned you to the bunk beneath Jowan's in the children's dormitories. And for the next week, you are attend every class and eat every meal together."

"Y…yes, F…first Enchanter," Jowan stammered, his eyes never leaving the ground.

Solona haughtily stuck her nose back into the air. "Fine," she conceded.

Irving stood and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now, Jowan, why don't you show Solona to her quarters?"

Jowan bobbed his head. He looked completely miserable over the prospect. Silently, he walked to the door, then stopped, waiting for Solona to follow. She retained her contemptuous disposition as she joined her new escort.

No words were spoken as the two children passed through the corridor and into the large room filled with bunk beds lined in neat rows. Jowan led Solona to one in the back left hand corner. He stood next to the bed and indicated to the lower bunk.

Solona plopped down onto the mattress and peered up at the boy. He was visibly trembling.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asked, her tone cross. "You're not going to wet yourself or anything, are you?" He waggled his head and Solona noticed the glistening of his cheeks in the light of the nearby lyrium lamp. "Are you crying?" He sniffled before swiping his sleeve across his nose. "Why in the Maker's name are you crying?"

His shoulder lifted then fell. "I…I'm sorry you got stuck with me," he whispered.

As much as she loathed the idea, Solona actually felt sorry for Jowan. He reminded her so much of her twin, Miri…overly quiet, timid, nervous Miriana. Although Solona had spent much of her short life torturing her sister, she still loved and missed her.

"Hey, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I wasn't trying to make you cry. I'm just mad. I miss my father and my brothers and my sister." He sniffed again and nodded. "Do you want to sit down?" He shrugged. "Come on, sit down. I promise I won't bite…hard."

He chuckled before taking a seat on the bed next to her. His brow creased. "You have sisters and brothers?"

"Two brothers and one sister. She's my twin. You act a lot like her."

"Is that bad?" he questioned.

"Not most of the time. She is a bit of an annoying prat sometimes though. You're not a prat, are you Jowan?"

"I don't know…maybe."

Solona rolled her eyes. "Lighten up, will you? Otherwise you're going to make me cry too and if that happens, I'm going to have to find somebody to punch." He recoiled slightly. "It was a joke."

He watched his shoes as he kicked his feet back and forth. "You're too pretty to cry," he murmured.

She lay her head down on his lap so she could look him in the eyes and grinned. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he smirked.

"Did you just call me pretty?"

His sheepish grin widened. "No."

She pushed his shoulders down onto the bed, straddled his waist and began tickling him. "You did. Admit it." He was howling with laughter, begging her to stop. "Not till you admit it."

"Fine, fine," he cried. "You're pretty, alright. I said you're pretty."

Solona flopped onto her back and giggled. For the remainder of the evening, until the templars came and told them to be quiet and go to bed, they lay there talking and laughing, telling stories and jokes to each other, just the way she and Miri had on the rare occasions they actually got along. Over the next week, Solona grew very fond of Jowan and him of her. From that time forward, the two apprentices were best friends. They always told each other everything, which was why she knew he would never be so secretive unless her worst fears were coming to fruition.

When Solona reached the chapel, she crossed the room to find Jowan by the small altar in the far left corner. Standing next to him was a short, homely girl with mousy brown hair wearing templar initiate's robes. The bridge of Solona's nose crinkled as the left side of her lips turned up into a sneer.

Jowan flashed a nervous smile. "Solona…I want you to meet…this is Lily."

"And?" the young mage prodded.

He exhaled a heavy breath. "Lily is the reason I've been sneaking out at night. We've been seeing each other in secret."

Solona's expression changed to one of boredom. "I realize you're shy, Jowan, but I honestly think you could do much better."

Lily huffed at the insult which caused Jowan to go into a full panic. "She didn't mean that, Lily. Solona was just joking. She's just like that."

Solona's lips curled into a smirk. "Yes, dear, it was only a joke. I'm sure you have a winning personality to make up for all that frumpiness."

Jowan's eyes glistened in the candlelight as he turned to his best friend. "Please, Solona," he implored. "Please stop. I love her. Can't you see that?"

Solona's eyes went from her friend to Lily and back again. She didn't understand what Jowan could possibly see in such a girl, but the helplessness in his green eyes caused her countenance to soften all the same. Still, there was something about that woman she just didn't trust.

The mage shrugged. "Sure, Jowan. If you say so," she relented. "So is that why I'm here? For you to profess your love for this…" She looked Lily up and down with a sour expression. "Girl?"

Lily's shoulders straightened. "Actually, Jowan and I would like to ask for your help."

"In what? Shouting it from the rooftops?" Solona snarked. "I'm afraid I'm not allowed outside just yet."

Jowan took Lily's hand into his. "No. We want to leave. To get out of the tower. The Chantry will never allow us to be together, but if we can escape…maybe we can find some place to go where they won't find us."

"Yes," Solona quipped, the fear and hurt inside her building. "Because that's worked so well for Anders all these years."

"Anders keeps getting captured because of his phylactery," Lily reasoned. "Every time he runs, Greagoir sends a message to Denerim to retrieve it. But Jowan is still an apprentice. His phylactery is here, in the basement. If we can get to it and destroy it, they'll never be able to find us."

They were actually serious. So serious, in fact, that they had obviously come up with a plan. Rage welled up in Solona's gut. It was really happening. She had her suspicions all day, but now she was forced to face the ugly truth. She was going to be alone, for the rest of her days, alone and discarded. Her mother had abandoned her when she was four. Anders had been trying to desert her for years. Now Jowan was going to leave her too.

The young mage's fingers balled into such tight fists her nails were digging into her palms. She blinked against the tears stinging her eyes. She glared at Lily. That cow was trying to steal her best friend, and Solona wasn't about to let that happen without a fight. She was going to rearrange Lily's loathsome face, punch her until no one would ever recognize her again, and there would be no healers available to help her. None that could undo the damage Solona was about to inflict anyway. The only two who would be able to it were either gone or locked in the dungeon. So what if it pissed Jowan off? He was leaving anyway. Obviously they were never as close as she thought.

She clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth. Her chest rose and fell with her labored breaths. Her lids narrowed as she glowered at the woman who wanted to take the only person left in her life for whom she truly cared.

Her lapis eyes moved to Jowan's reluctant green orbs, silently begging her to at least listen. As much as she hated him at that moment, hated the both of them, she couldn't help but love him. Her anger began to dwindle, but didn't leave her entirely. She wasn't about to give in without some sort of fight, and she was damned if she was going to aid him in his ridiculous bid to leave her.

"So I'm supposed to risk my neck so you two can run away together? Why would I do this?"

Jowan gave her a sheepish grin. "For the knowledge that you made your best friend happy?" Her deepening glare prompted his face to contort into an anguished expression. "They're going to make me tranquil, Solona."

She sucked in a long, uneven breath. Not that again. "I thought we had gone over that already, Jowan."

He waggled his head. "No. I'm serious. Lily found the missive on Greagoir's desk. Irving approved the rite this morning."

"It's true," Lily confirmed. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"They'll take away everything," Jowan pleaded. "My hopes, my dreams, my love for Lily…you."

Solona's ire deflated completely as the words finally sank in. She pictured seeing her best friend wandering the corridors with the brand of the Tranquil tattooed into his brow. There would be no more nervous, twiddling fingers fumbling with the front of his robes as he questioned his every word before speaking. No more anguished expressions. No more self-deprecating. No more Jowan. He would be an empty shell, an animated corpse there only to do the templar's bidding. She sighed as she resolved herself to the fact that she had to help him. What else could she do? She was going to lose him either way.

The mage nodded dejectedly. "What do you need of me?"

As Lily laid out their plan, Solona got the nagging feeling that it was all going to go horribly wrong. It was like something a child would devise. She was to retrieve a rod of fire from the stockroom which would melt the locks to the apprentice's phylactery chamber. Then, Jowan would destroy his phylactery, and they would escape. It sounded simple enough, but Solona knew nothing was ever that easy.

Oh well, she thought with a forlorn sigh. If we're caught, we'll probably be put in the dungeons. At least I'll see Anders again.

Solona wanted to make sure I put the story of how she and Jowan met somewhere in this book. I figured this chapter was as good as any. He was her best friend for most of her childhood and throughout her teenage years, and she always loved him as a brother. I only hope I gave this memory the justice it deserves.

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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight