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Blood Bond	By : Hikari86 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything Dragon Age. I claim no ownership and make no money/profit.

Chapter List
- 40
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- 42
Etchings and Stitchings

For awhile, Arawin followed Lisha in silence. Before leaving her landship, Lisha had grabbed one more thing from the chest. It was a long, black box that she carried, tucked under her arm. Lisha lead Arawin back into the forest, and back to the place that her best friend and daughter were buried. Here she stopped and looked at the two trees one last time before bowing to them and moving on. They walked for awhile some more still in silence before Lisha stopped in a small clearing and looked around. When she was satisfied, she sat on the ground and gestured for Arawin to join her.
“You must know, Iell,” Lisha said as she opened the box. “That what I’m about to do is very unorthodox. It is actually the duty of the Keepers to brand our own and welcome outsiders into the clan as brothers and sisters.” From the box she pulled out a long black handle. Arawin couldn’t be for sure, but it looked to be made of hardened wood. There were white carvings within the wood that went from end to end. The handle was squared, and on each surface the carvings seemed to designate one of the four elements. It was beautiful, and Arawin marveled at the craftsmanship.
“Vallaslin,” Lisha continued. “‘Blood writing’. It is a rite of passage, and no child can be a true hunter without going through the rite. It can be done in stages, or if the one going through the rite wishes, it can all be done at once. I have yet to see someone be able to take so much in one setting, so I do not expect you to wish this. I also wouldn’t recommend it.”
“So...” Arawin said as she glanced at the etchings on Lisha’s face. “Your tattoos. That’s blood writing?”
“Yes. This,” said Lisha as she pointed to her forehead. “Is the symbol for Andruil, goddess of the hunt. That is how most blood writings start, with a god or goddess of the elf’s choice.”
“What does the rest of it mean?” Arawin asked. “The waterfall. And why is it not symmetrical like I’ve seen with so many others?”
Lisha smiled at her as she began pulling other things out from the box, including a small hammer. “Do you think everything in nature is even? In a way, yes, but also in a way, no. If you look at a tree, you will see that there might be more branches on one side than the other. If you were able to look at a river’s path as it glides through a forest, you would see that it does not care how perfect it looks getting though, just that it does. I did not want it to be symmetrical, because back then, I felt as if part of me was gone.”
“You speak of Tamlen?”
“It is the reason why I chose water instead of completing the Andruil design. Water represents the continuation of life; that life stops for nothing, not even death. Water stops for nothing. It will carve a path through anything that it comes across. I needed it’s strength in order to continue on. This, right here,”--and Lisha pointed to the wave over her eye--“represents the chaos my life went through, not just from Tamlen’s death, but from losing my sister as well.”
Arawin expressed astonishment at her face, taking in her tattoos with new awe. She saw them in a completely different light now. “What about Dayno’s? His looks more like trees, and there is a leaf over his right eye that looks to match your wave.”
Lisha nodded. She was working on something within the box, but Arawin couldn’t see what it was. “The tree design that you speak of, to which most of Zathrian’s clan wears, represents the god Elgar’nan, the All-Father. He is the god of fatherhood and vengeance. I always wondered why Zathrian preferred for his clan to wear the mark, but now I guess it makes sense. As for Dayno’s leaf, it is tradition for a bonded pair to have matching marks. I had told him what the wave around my eye stood for, and to share my pain, he decided to have a matching leaf. It surprised me at first for him to willingly go through such a thing, but it was a true sign for how much he loved me. That he would go through so much pain to understand my own.”
Arawin took her gaze from Lisha’s face as the older elf took the black handle and raised it to eye level. At the end, perpendicular to the handle was a silver needle; thin and very sharp looking, not having been there previously.
“I understand there is pain involved,” said Arawin as she took her eyes from the needle. “But how much more pain did Dayno go through?”
“You must understand, Iell, that around the eye is perhaps the most painful area on the face. The skin is thin, and there is very little between it and bone. With every tap, bone will be hit, and it will heighten the pain even more. There is also a chance the eye might be damaged, or the socket break, which also makes it the most dangerous as well. So you can understand why the wave is around my eye and not anywhere else.”
Arawin did understand. “If I am to be branded, then can I choose what I want?”
“Of course.”
She didn’t have to think very long about it. “I would like something similar to your wave, around the eye.”
“Are you sure?” Lisha asked. She didn’t act surprised.
“I’m sure. I’ve suffered through many things too. The only problem is I don’t know what the shape should be.”
Lisha nodded, understanding more of what Arawin said than the younger elf probably knew. “I suggest a feather,” she said. “It is another one of Andruil’s symbols, and the feather stands for honor as well as quickness. Plus, as a Grey Warden, I think it would suit you as a way to acknowledge your griffon-mounted roots.”
“I like it,” Arawin said after thinking about it. “Let’s begin. What needs to be done?”
“All you need to do is lie down and be still. This will not be pleasant.”
Arawin laid down in the grass and Lisha took a position close to the right side of her head. She watched Lisha as the hunter began crushing and mixing a powder with other materials. She sang softly in the Elvish tongue a slow song that sounded inspiring. Arawin closed her eyes and let the melody of the song engulf and sooth her. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of what was coming, but she had never done anything like it before.
“Let me see your hand.” Arawin gave it to her and cried out when she felt the cut on her finger.
“Ouch!”
“If you think that hurt, then maybe you're not prepared for this,” said Lisha.
“No, no, it was just... unexpected.” Arawin sat up a little and watched as Lisha took the finger she had cut and squeezed drops of blood from the wound into the mixture. She then let go of her hand and mixed everything together.
“It's called blood writing for a reason,” she explained. “Your own blood goes into it. Now, lay back down, please. You need to hold perfectly still, Iell. Otherwise, there could be consequences.”
“You do know what you’re doing, right?” Arawin asked while laying back down and closing her eyes again.
She could hear Lisha smile. “My sister taught me, as our father taught her. Now just relax, and keep your right eye closed.” Lisha took a wet cloth and wiped it around Arawin’s eye and the area around. “I will try and do this quick, but that may not be possible. Here is your first feel of the needle.”
Arawin felt the tip of the needle on the skin just below her eye. It was cold and sharp, and not as bad as she had thought it would be, but that was just Lisha placing the needle there. When Lisha first tapped the hammer on the handle, the needle drove into Arawin’s skin, hitting the bone underneath, and nearly making Arawin cry out again. She instead held her tongue, and hissed instead.
“Easy, Iell,” said Lisha. “Remember, do not move your head.” She then continued tapping the handle with the hammer. With each tap, pain shot through Arawin’s face and eventually down her body. It wasn’t as bad as she had thought. It was worse. Arawin gripped the grass with her hands, pulling it out by the roots and turning her knuckles white from the pressure. She had to lock her jaw to keep from screaming, as the pain from each tap was like a tiny little knife injecting fire underneath her skin.
“Since we are not doing this in true tradition,” said Lisha. “I will allow you to cry if you want. I know this is painful, and I’m trying to get the most painful part done first.”
Arawin answered her with a slight whimper. Even though she was able to, Arawin wasn’t going to scream or even cry out right. Instead, she allowed tears to fall from her left eye, and kept her right one shut tight so the tears from it would not ruin Lisha’s work.
Lisha worked at a steady pace. She tapped in the ink, then with a soft cloth, wiped off the excess ink and blood from Arawin’s face before gathering more ink and starting again. She could see that Arawin was in great pain and discomfort, but she wasn’t going to stop unless she was told to.
“Is there anything you would like to know, Iell?” she asked. “Talking can be a good way to distract from the pain.”
“Yeah...” Arawin breathed out. “How... ah, how is... is this... ah, not traditional?”
“It is the Keeper who does it, and it is done in silence. Someone like me doing the blood writing is very risky, but as you might tell, I don’t necessarily care what Zathrian thinks. He more than likely wouldn’t have done this for you anyway, since you would want to have a connection with me.”
“Why... why do you and, ah... Zathrian hate each other?”
Lisha gently wiped off Arawin’s face. This allowed Arawin to open her eye and let the tears that had been collecting under the lid flood out. Lisha wiped these off as well and collected more ink.
“Zathrian says he cares for his clan, and that he would do anything to protect them, but as you saw with the curse, that is not true. Or at least it’s not true when it comes to putting himself first. I’ve seen it in him ever since I joined this clan. He seems to only do things that will benefit him and not the whole. That is not how a Keeper should be. A Keeper should put his clan before himself, and never the other way around. Marethari, the Keeper of my mother-clan, would not have approved of his actions at all. She would've been appalled, and would've had him taken to the gathering of the clans to see if he should even stay Keeper. I would do it if I had the power, but I do not. Only another Keeper or a First has that power.”
Lisha had already started again and was now making her way around Arawin’s eye, toward her nose. There was silence for a moment besides Arawin’s whimpers before she was finally able to ask another question.
“Why did, ah... Why did your father... teach your sister this... this, ah, rite?”
“He was the Keeper before Marethari. Azrielya wasn’t his First, but he wanted to teach her nevertheless. I’m not sure why, my sister never told me, and I was never able to ask him myself. He died before I was born. This set is actually his. When he died, Marethari let Azrielya keep it to stay close to her father. She then gave it to me, along with many other things, before heading off to Antiva.”
Lisha had made her way to the top of the eye. Here she was able to work a little faster as the bone was thicker, but not by much. Arawin’s whole right side of her face was starting to become numb, which was helping a little with the pain.
She continued dealing with the pain as best she could before feeling something begin to vibrate around her neck. Slowly Arawin lifted up her left hand and began feeling around her neck for the cause. She found the string of her necklace, and realized that the vibration was coming from the pendant. Zelda must be calling her.
Lisha had stopped her tapping when she saw Arawin lift her arm. Arawin took the pendant and gazed at it. The blackness was swirling toward the center, and light was pulsing all around.
“Does that have something to do with your bond?” Lisha asked.
“Yeah, it’s Zelda,” said Arawin. “Continue doing what you’re doing. This might actually be good timing, as I won’t move and hopefully I won’t feel the pain.”
“I don’t think I understand much about this bond you have, but if you think it is best, then go ahead and answer the call. Just don’t forget what is happening when you awake.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Arawin gripped the pendant in her hand and soon felt the familiar falling sensation. This time it wasn’t nearly as bad, for as she fell, the pain in her face began to fade away.
***
Going into the void was never fun, but one thing that both women liked about it was that they didn’t need to explain many things to one another. This is what happened the moment Arawin entered and felt Zelda’s presence so close. Immediately she knew the reason why the human wanted to speak with her and also what had happened prior to the last time they spoke. Zelda, in turn, also knew everything Arawin had done as well.
It’s nice to see that you are well, Arawin, Zelda said. Might I ask why our face is hurting?
I’m becoming an official member of the family, Arawin replied. You can feel it all the way in Redcliffe?
No, I only felt it when I entered this void. Not as bad as I can tell it is for you, but still hurts.
I’m sure this is not what you wanted to discuss. Arawin felt Zelda’s smirk.
No, it is not, said Zelda. And I can already tell that some of my questions for you have already been answered. You have found the Dalish and they have agreed to aid us?
They have, but not without me doing them a favor first, Arawin scuffed. So you have also gone to the mage’s tower and helped them in a similar fashion? Good, that is at least two contracts done. Now all that’s left is getting the dwarves aid and waking the arl.
That is correct.
And this mage, Esumi, she has had no luck in trying to wake him? Arawin could feel Zelda’s distress on the issue. Waking the arl was apparently very important, and it seemed there was more than one life on the line due to him waking or not.
The only way to wake Eamon, said Zelda. Is to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes.
Arawin didn’t need to be bonded to Zelda to know what the Urn of Sacred Ashes was. Any Andrastain, especially ones from Ferelden, knew about the Urn. It was the vessel that carried the ashes of Andraste Herself. Collected after She was burned on the stake by the Tevinter Magisters. It was said that the ashes had extraordinary healing powers, and could cure any illness. Every once in a while one would hear about someone going to try and find the Urn because they think they might have found a clue to it’s whereabouts, but nothing ever came from such claims. And most of the time the person on the mad quest was never heard from again.
It was no surprise to Zelda as she felt Arawin’s puzzlement. Going after the Urn was a desperate move.
Are you sure? Arawin said. Is there really nothing else that can be tried?
Not unless Morrigan knows something that might be useful. But even if she did, she’s no use to us all the way in the Brecilian Forest.
This was true. Arawin also thought of Zevran. He may have some idea of what the poison was and maybe even how to cure it. But then again, if mages couldn’t even figure it out, how could he?
It’s worth asking him at least, said Zelda. But in any case, I feel like we should still go after the Urn. So this is what I need you to do. If you are done with the Dalish, then I need you and the others to head to Denerim and locate a man named Brother Genitivi. Eamon was funding him on his research into the Urn. If anybody knows where it is, then it’ll be him. The only problem is that he has been missing for some time now. If you can’t find him in Denerim, then anything you can find on the Urn would be just as good.
A mixture of emotions began to flood through the elf after Zelda’s request. Anger for being told what to do, as well as sadness for having to leave the Dalish, but also happiness for being given an opportunity to finally head home. Eventually the happiness won over the others as Arawin thought about her family. The love for them seeped through and it washed throughout the entire void. She really missed them, Zelda could tell, but there was also something else within Arawin’s emotions. It felt almost like panic.
I encourage you to see your family, said Zelda. I know they would love to see that you are okay.
Don’t worry, I will, said Arawin. It’s at the top of my list.
The brother’s address is 17, in the Market District.
I think that’s right across from the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Hmm, so it shouldn’t be very hard to find.
Good. Just make sure to contact me once you learn anything. The others and I are more than likely going to stay here in Redcliffe until then. But Zelda’s feelings toward this were unclear. There was something about staying in Redcliffe and doing nothing that bothered her.
I don’t care what you do until then, said Arawin. But I’ll go tell the others and we’ll head for Denerim immediately. I will miss the Dalish, though. They have shown great hospitality.
So has the arlessa and Bann Teagan.
I just wish it was like that where ever we go. I had nearly forgotten that we’re wanted criminals for a crime we didn’t commit. Oh well, at least I have an assassin, an apostate, and a Qunari to help me. Boy are we an odd bunch.
It will be even odder when our two groups come back together.
Right.
There was nothing left but a mixture of stilled emotions as the two women parted. As they left, it was unclear who was feeling what or why. It had been happening the entire time they were in the void. All they knew was that when they had finally separated, they felt themselves again.
***
Zelda sighed heavily as she opened her eyes. She was glad to be back in her body, back in the real world and out of the void. She wondered what the void was, or even where it was. She was no mage, so she wasn’t sure if it was in the Fade, but it didn’t seem like a dream. If anything, Zelda felt more as if it was inside her mind, or at least... in both their minds at the same time.
She shook her head and rubbed her temples. It was too much for her to think about right now. She was already beginning to develop the slight throb that occurred with every use of the pendant.
When her head felt normal again, she stood and went to the door. When she looked out in the hall, no one was there. She didn’t expect Isolde or Wynne to stay and wait for her long. Zelda wasn’t sure how long she was in the void, but she knew it was usually longer than she thought. There was someone in the hall, however. An elf, dressed like a maid, stood up straight from a chair next to the door. She looked toward Zelda and bowed to her.
“Good evening, my lady,” she said. “Are you in need of anything?”
“Who are you?” Zelda asked.
“My name is June. The arlessa asked that I wait out here for you just in case you needed anything.” She bowed to her once again.
Even though she had grown up with them, Zelda never liked the idea of being served on. It didn’t matter if that was their job, she liked doing things herself, but she knew she just couldn’t reject the poor girl. She was a guest in Isolde’s house after all. “Well, I’m not in need of anything at the moment. I was just wondering if the arlessa was still out here.”
“Would you like me to take you to her?” asked June. “I would be happy to show you the way.”
“No, that’s fine. It can wait.”
“Does my lady need anything else?”
Zelda shook her head. “Not at the moment, but thank you.” June then bowed to her one last time and then sat back in the chair. Zelda closed the door and went back into the room.
She sighed deeply, as she wasn’t sure at all what she should do. She had told Arawin they would wait here in Redcliffe till she was done in Denerim, but already the idea was beginning to distress her. Waiting was never fun, and she felt like there was more they could do. She did have the treaty for the dwarves. Perhaps going to Orzammar now was a good idea, but it also might not be either. For one, Orzammar was located in the Frostback Mountains. It could take nearly two weeks to make it through the mountains before reaching the city gates. Then another two weeks to get back. There was no telling what Arawin would find in Denerim. She may need Zelda’s help. Waiting was the only thing that made sense at the moment.
Zelda lifted her gaze from the floor and noticed herself in the mirror on the vanity. There she saw the stranger again. The one she had seen in Rainesfere only this time, she wasn’t wild and mad with rage. She looked more worn and beaten. It was how Zelda felt, but she knew it to not be a true reflection of herself. She noticed the dress that Leliana had chosen for her. It was beautiful, but she couldn’t see why everyone thought it looked good on her. The color was fine, but it just seemed awkward in a way. It was perhaps how her body was shaped. It seemed that the top portion was wider than the bottom. Her arms were fairly muscular as well as her chest. Zelda wondered if this was why she hated dresses. Maybe this was the reason why she could never find ones that fit. A woman’s upper body wasn’t suppose to be this big.
She decided immediately she was going to change out of it. Leliana might not like it, but there was no way she was going to wear something like this everyday while they waited. Quickly, Zelda began unlacing the back the best she could. Once she was done, the dress slipped off her easily and glided to the floor. She then went about looking for her leathers. She wasn’t sure where Leliana had put them, hoping she hadn’t hid them anywhere.
Zelda first looked through her pack to see if they were in there, only to discover that her pack was completely full. In it were many things that they had picked up along their travels. Such things that looked to be sellable or useful. She began taking things out, separating them in piles of things she would keep, and things she would see if she could sell. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her pack that she came across a bunched-up ball of fabric that felt slightly damp. She pulled it out and unfolded it to realize that it was Arawin’s wedding dress.
Zelda held it out in front of her. It looked ghastly and smelled rank. There were sweat stains, and the blood had dried making the fabric hard and rust colored. It was also very wrinkled and some of the beads were missing. Zelda stared at it with sadness. She had hoped to save the dress and find someone who could fix it, but now it seemed only a miracle could do that. But something told her not to throw it away. Not yet at least without trying first. Zelda placed the dress on the bed and covered herself with a robe before opening the door. June popped up from her chair and bowed to her.
“Is there something you need, my lady?”
“Is there a seamstress here in the castle?” Zelda asked.
“Why yes, my lady. We have the best seamstress in all of Ferelden. Are you in need of her assistance?”
“Yes. Do you mind going and locating her for me, and bringing her here?”
“Right away, my lady.” June bowed then raced off down the hall. Zelda went back in her room and back to finding her leather armor and putting it on.
By the time the door knocked and Zelda allowed entry, she had found her armor and was finishing buckling the straps. An old woman came into the room and shut the door behind her. Zelda had barely enough time to acknowledge the woman before she was roughly turned away from the mirror and facing her.
“Alright, let me have a look at you,” said the old woman.
“Excuse me?” Zelda said with surprise.
“You called for me, yes?” She might have been old, but she worked fast, unbuckling the armor Zelda had just placed and taking it off.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Relax, I need to see what your body type is.” She swatted Zelda’s hands away and removed her breastplate. “Ah, just as I thought,” she said as she analyzed Zelda’s torso. “You’re a warrior. That’s going to make it more difficult. Female warriors always have the most awkward bodies to tailor. No matter, if I could make our late queen look beautiful, I can do the same for you.”
“Our late queen? Are you talking about Queen Rowan?”
“That I am,” she said as she pulled out a long piece of string and began taking measurements. “My name’s Olivia. I was the seamstress to King Maric and Queen Rowan. I saw the Orlesians fall and was even in Denerim on the day Maric the Savior ran his sword through Meghren, taking back the throne. From then on I’ve been dressing nobles and more. I’m especially good with warriors, since they seem to have the toughest time finding something to wear for formal occasions. It’s their upper bodies. Chests and arms are too thick, making them look top heavy. You seem to be having the same problem that Rowan was having, but don’t worry. I know what to do.” She then went down to Zelda’s lower body and began taking off the leather shirt. “You also seem to have the same hips as Rowan. Amazing.” She placed the string around them. “Warriors have always fascinated me. Your class always seems to have the best child-bearing hips.”
“Okay,” Zelda said pushing her away. “I didn’t call you to make me a dress.”
Olivia looked at her peculiarly. “Then what did you call me for?” she asked placing her hands on her hips.
“I wanted to see if you could fix a dress for me,” Zelda said. She made her way over to the bed and grabbed the wedding dress and handed it to the seamstress.
When she took it, Olivia immediately wrinkled her nose and her face went wide with horror. “Oh, no, no, no! What have you done to it?”
“I didn’t do anything to it.”
“The thing is completely ruined, and for one, it’s too small for you. This dress would not fit at all, no matter what I did.”
“No,” Zelda said shaking her head. “This dress belongs to a friend of mine. She’s an elf.” Olivia raised her eyebrows at her and Zelda knew she wanted to know what happened. “She was going to get married in it, but... Things happened and she ended up fighting for her life instead.”
“Is that so?” The seamstress held up the dress and looked at it. “And you want me to fix it, do you? Ha. I might be good, but I can’t work miracles.”
“Could you at least try, please,” Zelda pleaded. “It would mean so much to the both of us if you could fix it.” Although Zelda wasn’t so sure Arawin would care. She did throw it on the garbage pile after all.
The seamstress huffed. “Well, I didn’t get where I am now without taking on impossible tasks. The fabric is exquisite and durable. It was a nice, expensive dress at one point.”
“I’ll pay you whatever you wish.”
“You won’t be paying me anything,” she said folding the dress on her arm. “Your patron will be the one doing that. I’m sure Bann Teagan didn’t invite me here to just sit on my ass all day darning servant socks.”
“You were in Rainesfere?”
“Yes, I retired there a few years after Cailan became king. I was originally from Rainesfere, and I always wanted to go back. My retirement doesn’t stop me from taking the occasional job, however. Teagan always liked my work. But in any case, I was sent for by him when he sent a message to Lord Talon. I was surprised, but I guess I am needed here. Not just for you, but there are more things that need fixed and reinforced than buildings.”
“Can I assume that means you’ll try and fix the dress, then?” Zelda asked smiling.
Olivia huffed again. “Yes. I will try. But I promise you nothing.”
“That’s all I can ask for.” Zelda bowed to her. “Thank you. You are very kind.”
“Perhaps I am,” she said turning for the door. Before she left, she then stopped and looked back at Zelda. “Are you sure you don’t want one for yourself?” she asked. “I already have something in mind that would suit you. There’s a new style making it’s way through the courts. It’s from Antiva; big, flowy dresses.”
“No thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” She then left, and Zelda bent down to pick up her leathers to put them on one more time.

Paraphrasing from Dragon Age: Origins
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Blood Bond