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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 could scarcely believe it. After all that time, fourteen long years, she looked into the eyes of the sister she thought she would never see again. When she told Miri she ceased biting years ago, she hoped it might garner a smile from the woman who was a mirror image of herself and whose expression bore the shock she felt.
After days of mental preparation, by the time she reached the doors leading into the tower, the young Warden had been primed for a confrontation with Greagoir and to face Anders again. When she discovered the truth of what was going on inside and the knowledge of her former lover’s death, it sent Solona’s mind reeling. Between all that, the emotional whirlwind with Alistair, and the Blight, it felt as if her entire world was already spiraling completely out of control. For fate to add this new twist was almost more than her overly taxed mind could bear.
“Solona?” Miriana asked after stepping around the tall stranger who stood as her guard. “Is it really you?”
“Unless you have another twin sister,” the young Warden drawled as her eyes fell upon the man standing next to Miri.
He acknowledged her with an uneven grin. “A pleasure to see you again, love. Though, you’ve grown a bit since last we met.”
Solona’s brow arced in question as she tried to place Miriana’s escort. There was something very familiar about his eyes, but she couldn’t quite remember where she knew him from. He was obviously a few years older than her, probably Anders’ age or near to it. The ebony hilts at his waist, not quite hidden by his long leather duster, divulged the fact he most likely possessed no magical talent. His dark attire was that of a rogue, probably a pirate, given its design.
A pirate.
The young mage recalled the ship she saw approaching the lake from the river channel. He was far too young to be the captain of the vessel that carried her to Kinloch, and his leg was whole, not a wooden stump. Suddenly, recognition dawned on her. That captain had a son, a tall young man in his teenage years who served her a plate of fish, which she promptly threw at his head. He had cursed profusely while cleaning up the mess, but later brought a platter of fruit for her to enjoy, only allowing her to have it after she promised not to toss it at him.
“The boy with the fish,” Solona said with a smile.
“Aye, love,” he affirmed with a widened smirk. “The knot you left with that plate healed quite a long time ago, but the memory of it haunts me still, I’m afraid. To this day, I can’t look upon a platter of fish without thinking of you.”
That smirk, the mischievous salacity twinkling in his aquamarine eyes, spoke of a man who wouldn’t be opposed to a tumble that came without strings. He was obviously arrogant, confident of his prowess with blades as well as carnal skill, exactly the type of man she vowed to keep a safe distance from after everything she had endured with Anders over the years. The pirate definitely posed danger to the heart of any woman who ever dared to fall in love with him.
Solona, however, had no intention of allowing anyone, let alone a man like that, anywhere near her heart. What she needed was a distraction, a temporary calm in the eye of the storm that only the most base of pleasures could give her. She didn’t want him to love her. She merely wanted him to bed her.
She took a step toward him, then regarded her sister out of the corner of her eye. Although she was in the company of a pirate, Miri still wore the robes of a Circle mage. Her hair was pulled into a long braid that hung over her shoulder like a young girl and the pale skin of her face was completely unadorned by makeup. In her eyes, there was an innocence only held by a woman who had never known the touch of a man.
The remembrance of Anders and everything he had put her through flashed through Solona’s mind, and a protective nature she hadn’t experienced since she was a child instinctively kicked in. Although they hadn’t seen each other in more than fourteen years, Miriana was still her sister. She recalled the soft-spoken, timid, nervous twin she shared everything with when they were young girls and how tightly Miri had clung to her following their mother’s abandonment. Falling in love with Anders had corrupted Solona’s soul with bitterness, anguish, and anger. She would be damned if she would allow a man like that to do the same to Miriana. Her determination to turn the pirate’s attention to her increased tenfold in that moment, and she garnered it with a wanton smile.
“Then perhaps we should work on giving you better memories of me, no?”
“I might be able to come up with a few things in that regard,” he told her with a playful wink. “Perhaps you and I should…get together later and chart a course or two?”
The sound of Alistair clearing his throat behind her prompted Solona back to the reality of the grim task that lay ahead, but her eyes never left the pirate’s. “Unfortunately, those plans will have to be put on hold a while. For now, though, it would be nice to know the name I intend to be calling out when those courses are charted.”
The man took her hand and flourished a bow, his lustful gaze still locked to hers. “Captain Hawke of Yavana’s Call,” he said before gracing her knuckles with a soft kiss. “At your service, love.”
Alistair wasn’t sure what to think of the tall man in black leather at first. The warrior never recalled seeing anyone of his like before. At the same time, something about the dark stranger seemed oddly familiar. Perhaps it was the eyes. They were the same aquamarine color as Gabby’s and her father’s. Then, it donned on him.
Redcliffe.
He was the tall boy who was with the Couslands when they visited the castle the summer after Alistair’s sixth birthday. The bully who picked him up and deposited him into a shit-filled pile of hay after Alistair tried to tell him he was mucking the stall wrong. For some reason, the Couslands left early during that trip and Lady Isolde banned that boy from ever returning to Castle Redcliffe. It was the only time Alistair ever felt gratitude toward the wretched woman.
The future king glared at the man, just as he heard Solona say, “Then perhaps we should work on giving you better memories of me, no?”
Alistair’s heart sank into his stomach. Even with his limited experience with women, the meaning behind his fellow Warden’s words were quite obvious. Any hope he had that the two of them would ever be anything more than friends was lost in that moment, not that there was much hope to begin with.
He heard the older mage they encountered when they entered the chamber breathe a perturbed sigh, reminding Alistair of their purpose for being at the Circle in the first place. He cleared his throat loudly enough to garner Solona’s attention, then turned his gaze away. He simply couldn’t bear to watch her throw herself at the rogue another second.
The very next moment, his eyes met with those of his fellow Warden’s sister. The dejection he beheld within them nearly took his breath, even more than her unembellished beauty. With only one look, Alistair could see that Miriana was Solona’s opposite in every way. Within those lapis eyes, there was kindness, softness, and innocence. A quiet nature her sister simply didn’t possess.
As the man speaking to Solona introduced himself as Captain Hawke, Miriana’s expression made it obvious the flirting between her escort and her sister had hurt her feelings. Without regard to his own anguish and with no motive other than to lessen her apparent heartbreak, Alistair presented Miriana with a smile of understanding. The slight furrow of her brow made him wonder if she mistook his intention at first, until she returned his gesture with a small smile of her own.
Miriana’s shoulders slumped as she watched the exchange between her sister and Garrett. It was the exact thing she had experienced dozens of times with Julia back in Ostwick. The way the captain stared at her twin told Miriana everything she needed to know and revealed exactly what she suspected all along. A man like Garrett would never find any real interest in a woman such as herself. Solona, on the other hand, was still the same bold and confident girl Miri remembered from her youth, but with the added benefit of a noticeably toned body, careful grooming, and sexual experience.
The young Circle mage’s cheeks flushed with humiliation over how pathetic Garrett must have found her naivety. All those conversations they had, all that time they spent together was just him being hospitable. He was never really interested in her, he simply felt sorry for her. A slight twinge in her chest and stomach forced Miriana to divert her attention away from the flirtatious banter between her sister and the pirate. The bile rising in her throat was already threatening to erupt. Vomiting would only serve to embarrass her more.
As she scanned the faces of the other people in the room, Miri’s gaze fell upon a handsome man in armor similar to Solona’s. He regarded her with a kind smile and hazel green eyes filled with quiet concern. Though he attempted to mask it, Miriana recognized the same malady she herself was suffering from in that moment. Heartache. She returned his smile with one of her own hoping that her own small gesture of kindness was exactly what they both needed.
The lust in the young woman’s eyes was more than apparent to Garrett, but there was something more within those gold-flecked pools of lapis. Something all too familiar, something he had witnessed countless times over the years, a fear with which he was well acquainted and used to build a wall around his own heart. Beneath the flirtatious smile and the unquestionable meaning behind the words she spoke, Solona reminded the captain of a young Isabela, of himself. All unenviable individuals, hardened and embittered by life and the promise of love gone wrong.
Two years older than Garrett, Isabela was only fourteen when first they met aboard the Call. Back before she became a ship’s captain and feared pirate. Back before her con artist mother found religion in the Qun and sold her into a loveless marriage to a cruel man. Back when she still retained some of her innocence. Back when she was still Naishe.
Naishe was Garrett’s first love, and he hers. They even toyed with the idea of getting married someday. Unfortunately, circumstance ripped the young lovers’ relationship apart when Naishe’s mother, Madam Hari, traded her to a much older Antivan businessman for just enough coin to afford her passage to Par Vollen. Luis, who was the business partner of a high ranking Antivan Crow, married Naishe just weeks before the young woman’s nineteenth birthday.
Nearly a year passed without a word from Naishe, and a broken-hearted Garrett assumed she was happy in her new life until he received a desperate message from her, begging for his aid. In her letter, Naishe described her husband as a man who had turned cruel and heartless. One who treated his young wife as his own personal prostitute he would lend out to fellow businessmen for whatever pleasures they desired from her. Garrett immediately went to Naishe’s rescue and killed Luis in his sleep, affording her the chance to escape with a bag of rare jewels, a set of daggers the young pirate gave to her, and her husband’s ship. That was the evening Naishe died and Isabela was born.
Against Marko’s wishes, Garrett left Yavana’s Call and became captain of Isabela’s newly acquired ship, Siren’s Call, under the pseudonym, the Jackdaw. For the next year, Garrett taught the young woman everything he knew about blades, sailing, and piracy. They were happy, or so he thought, until he once again brought up the subject of marriage and raising a family together. Soon after, he found himself tied to a bed in an inn in Llomerryn with his blades missing and a farewell note from Isabela.
Although Marko was unhappy with his son’s choices, he recognized Garrett’s success as a captain during the young pirate’s year aboard the Siren’s Call and rewarded Garrett by passing the mantle of captain of his own beloved lady over to him. Garrett dropped his given name entirely the day of Marko’s retirement in favor of the more suitable, Captain Hawke, and, within a few short months, became the most feared pirate in the seven seas. His success, however, never overshadowed his heartbreak or Isabela’s betrayal.
When he finally caught up to his former love, Captain Hawke boarded her ship and challenged her to a duel. After only fifteen minutes, the engagement of blades between the two captains ended in a tumble in Isabela’s cabin. Peace was brokered between them and they remained lovers over the following years, but Garrett would never again be foolish enough to allow their relationship to become anything more than sex and a close friendship. He finally realized, Naishe loved him, Isabela never did.
After Maggie broke his heart a few years later, Garrett vowed the only woman he ever needed was Isabela. Although he had many offers for sex by many different women since that time, he never entertained the notion. He knew exactly where he stood with Isabela. They were kindred souls who understood the dangers and the pain love could bring. Both of them committed to never allowing anyone that near their hearts again.
As Garrett stared into the eyes of the young Grey Warden standing before him, offering him the promise of a romp if they survived the day, he recognized the same oath he had taken. Someone, somewhere, had done a thorough job of destroying her faith. Like Isabela, he felt Solona could be trusted not to combine emotion with sexual pleasure. She would be a safe distraction from the danger Miriana posed to his heart. A distraction he needed to jar him away from the affection he was doing his level best not to feel.
He presented the Warden with a bow and a smirk, affirming his agreement to her carnal request with his eyes. “Captain Hawke of Yavana’s Call. At your service, love.”
As horrifying as the devastation surrounding the children’s dormitories had been, it was nothing compared to that of the areas beyond the magically shielded archway leading into the apprentices’ quarters. Upon traversing the opening, Solona and the others were greeted by the sight of blood and gore blanketing the walls and floors. Everywhere the young Warden turned, dead eyes stared up at her from the terrified faces of people she had known for the better part of her young life. Nothing could have prepared her for the deplorable catastrophe that had befallen the inner chambers of Kinloch Hold.
As the Wardens and their new companions fought their way through the demons and the possessed, Solona was grateful she accepted Captain Hawke’s aid. As skilled as Alistair, Leliana, and Sithig were, she had never seen anyone as good with a blade as the pirate. He moved with such expert grace, he seemed to dance with his enemies more than battle them. His strikes were deadly and his evasions masterful as he worked his way across the library to the steps leading to the second floor.
When they reached the stockroom at the top of the stairs, they found the tranquil, Owain, attempting to organize shelves amid the chaos. He went about his task with purpose, as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring around him. To him, it appeared to be just another day.
Wynne shook her head with a weary sigh. “Owain, what are you doing here?”
“My job,” the sedate man answered in his usual monotone. “The stockroom is a mess.”
Captain Hawke arched a questioning brow. “What in the void is wrong with him?” he inquired of Solona in a whisper.
“He’s a tranquil,” she replied. When her response only seemed to confuse the pirate further, she added, “A mage cut off from the Fade and his gift. I’ll explain later, after we get out of this mess.”
“Why didn’t you try to escape with the others?” the Senior Enchanter asked.
“Niall told me to stay here,” Owain replied. “He said it would be safer. He and Anders were here looking for the Litany of Adralla.”
The Litany was used as a protection against mind control by blood mages. If Anders was there searching for it, that meant he was fighting against those who started the rebellion. Although she tried her best not to believe Greagoir’s account of what happened and the healer’s involvement, there was still a part of her that feared the Knight Commander may have been telling the truth. Wynne had already told them that Senior Enchanter Uldred was the one who instigated the events before they entered the apprentices’ dormitory, but Solona was reluctant to ask about her former lover. With Owain’s story adding the final piece of the puzzle, Anders’ innocence became unquestionable in the young Warden’s mind. It also made her begin to wonder, if Greagoir had lied about Anders’ involvement, perhaps he had also lied about the healer’s death.
“Anders was here?” Solona questioned, earning her a dark look from Alistair.
The tranquil man bobbed his head slowly. “Yes, but he left before Niall did.”
“I saw him in the chamber where we met up with you,” Wynne interjected with a forlorn expression. “He charged Zaria and paralyzed her, but she managed to escape the spell when she turned into an abomination. She attacked him, began ripping him to shreds. I overtaxed my mana trying to stop her, so much that I fainted.”
A flutter of hope entered the Warden mage’s heart while dread turned her gut at the same time. “So he’s alive?”
The Senior Enchanter waggled her head, and any hope Solona had of Anders’ survival died with the gesture. “I’m sorry, dear.”
Room after room, the Wardens battled their way up the tower, clearing away any threats and searching for survivors. So far, the only person they found who was either not involved in the uprising or bewitched by blood magic was the tranquil storeroom keeper. Everyone else they encountered attacked them on sight.
Although it was a tragedy that should have never occurred, fighting demons, maleficar, and possessed templars afforded Alistair the opportunity to keep his mind off his troubled heart. Between her behavior toward the pirate and the way she had basically ignored his presence since meeting the rogue and her sister, Solona told her fellow Warden everything he needed to know. They were comrades in arms, friends, nothing more. Alistair simply wasn’t her type, and her flirting with the captain in front of him made that fact more abundantly clear.
Alistair wanted to hate the pirate. He had every reason to, but somehow, he just couldn’t. Even knowing who the man was and given what he had done to him in their youth, the warrior still found Captain Hawke’s rakish charm intriguing. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, and never would to anyone else, there was an almost instantaneous attraction he couldn’t deny. One he had never felt for any man he had met before.
Given the unusual color of the pirate’s eyes and his surname, Alistair was left to wonder if the captain might somehow be related to the serving girl from Lothering. Captain Hawke certainly looked like Gabby’s father when he encountered the man all those years ago at Castle Redcliffe’s stables. Perhaps the pirate was a cousin or even an older brother of the woman with whom he had become infatuated. He made a mental note to ask the captain if they managed to survive the horror of Kinloch.
Wynne had surmised that, since they had yet to encounter Uldred, he would most likely be holed up in the Harrowing Chamber at the uppermost portion of the tower. Unfortunately, when the Wardens and their companions reached the fourth floor, they found the steps leading directly to the templar floor completely destroyed. Without that stairway, they had no hope of completing their task.
“We should see if the back stairs are still intact,” Wynne offered.
“Uldred would need a way to return to the main floor,” Solona agreed. “Otherwise, there was no point to any of this, and I seriously doubt he would remove the boards from the fifth floor windows and jump.”
“That would be a good way to end it though,” Captain Hawke interjected. “Perhaps we should help the man with that task.”
“We have to find him first,” Solona reminded the rogue. “Then we push him out a window.”
After clearing the smaller chambers on the fourth floor, the Wardens and their companions came to a single door in the middle of an expansive wall to their left. “This training room will lead us to the back stairwell,” Wynne told them as she turned the handle and gave the wood a shove of her knuckles. “Once on the fifth floor, we will go through the templar barracks to the center chamber. That’s where…”
The Senior Enchanter was stopped mid-sentence by the presence of an abomination larger than any they had encountered up until that point. Its muscles and skin were twisted as if its entire body had been turned inside out and wrenched around itself in odd and putrid angles. Its shoulders looked like giant boulders had fused to them beneath the creature’s gnarled and spiked flesh and ended at a pair of long arms with extensive razor sharp claws as fingers. The only thing visible of its face beneath the armor of distorted bone and skin was a bulbous nose, one eye and a rotting cheek. At its feet lay the body of a dark-haired man dressed in green mage’s robes with lifeless eyes. The creature stared at the intruders with what Alistair could only assume was a hidden, malevolent grin.
“Welcome,” it greeted in a low, gravelly, echoing tone.
Although its voice sent a cold shiver down the Warden’s spine, there was something almost melodic and soothing about the sound. The room suddenly grew warm as if a cozy fire had been waiting after spending hours out in the cold. The inviting scents of cedar, warm bread, and freshly washed linens hung in the air, making Alistair feel as if he were home at last and could finally rest upon returning from a long journey. His eyes grew so heavy, he could barely keep them open. Through the cloud of exhaustion in his vision, he saw a cheerful little man with a kind smile.
“Sleep,” the man whispered. “All your burdens will be gone if you only slumber.”
My time with Naishe was one of the best and worst of my life. She was my first love and first lover. When she became Isabela, I believed that part of our relationship would remain untouched by her new persona. When we were alone during that year, I continued to call her Naishe, even though she would constantly correct me by saying, “She’s dead sweetie. It’s time to move on.” I thought it was simply good-natured banter, but I quickly discovered the night I was tied to that bed how mistaken I had been. That was when I realized Naishe was truly dead. It was also the night of the Jackdaw’s demise.
Isabela and I have been very close friends with the occasional benefit since the evening I caught up to her all those years ago. Neither of us really had any intention to kill the other during that duel on her ship, but there was a casualty that day-the life I had always dreamed of building with her.
At the time, I didn’t know what terrible thing had happened to Solona to make her as jaded as myself, but it was the first time I had ever witnessed in someone else’s eyes the exact kind of fear and pain I had been feeling for years. In that moment, I found a kindred spirit. Best of all, unlike the unwanted emotions Miriana's presence had begun to stir in me, I knew my guarded heart would be safe with Solona and safe from her…or, so I thought.
-G
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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight