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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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A warm pair of lips brushing tenderly against her cheek woke Solona from a dream she couldn’t quite recall. Whatever it was, it seemed important, vital. She closed her eyes again, but try as she might, she just couldn’t remember.
A long leg sprawled over her thigh shifted as an arm tightened around her waist. A soft moan sounded in her ear as teeth gently scraped her lobe. She breathed in the familiar scent of sandalwood and spice as her lover’s lips began to trail wet kisses down her neck to her bare shoulder. He thrust his hips forward to enable her to feel his excitement as his hand moved to cup her left breast.
He worked his mouth back up to her ear. “Good morning, love,” he whispered in a husky voice.
She turned her head to capture his lips with her own. It felt an eternity since she last kissed him, last felt him that near. Just like the first time and every time since, she melted at his touch, his taste. She was his, always and forever.
“Anders,” she breathed as he pulled away and helped her roll onto her back.
Within moments his lips were once again locked to hers, his tongue gently rolling around her own. She shivered with anticipation as she felt him shift his body over hers until he was settled between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his thin hips to pull him closer, until she felt the head of his cock pulse against her most intimate place.
He held it there for a long moment as he suckled her shoulder, teasing her the way he always did. She bucked her hips forward, prompting him to pull his back just enough to deny her. She felt she would go mad if he made her wait much longer.
“Please,” she panted into his ear. “I need you.”
He pushed the weight of his upper body onto his forearms so he could look into her eyes. After presenting her with an uneven smirk, he captured her lips again, the kiss deeper and more passionate than before. Relief washed over her entire body as he finally pushed inside her to begin his slow, rhythmic thrusts.
Anders kept a steady momentum as he moved within her. An eternity seemed to pass while they performed that most intimate of dances, yet an eternity wasn’t long enough for Solona when she was in the healer’s arms. She felt his fingers entangle in her hair as she pulled his free from its binding, allowing it to curtain both their faces. His lips kissed a path to her ear as she felt his body shudder through his release prompting her to find her own.
“I love you, Solona,” he whispered hoarsely as he reached the end of his climax.
Her eyes went wide for only a second before salty tears began spilling onto her cheeks. It wasn’t real. As much as she wished it to be, she knew Anders would never speak those words to her. The memory of the tower, the demons, Uldred…Anders’ death, all fell in on her.
She shoved him away with all the force she could muster. His warm amber eyes regarded her with sadness and rejection as she maneuvered her way from beneath his body and off the bed. She closed her lids long enough to imagine a blade appearing beneath the pillow that lay next to her hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
With renewed tears, she answered his question in the form of the dagger she plunged into his chest.
The words of the shipping manifest blurred for a few seconds, then cleared. Garrett rubbed the sleep from his eyes, chiding himself for falling asleep at his desk. The paperwork involved in running his own shipping company was the most tedious part of his job, but unfortunately necessary.
A young boy with black hair and aquamarine eyes ran into the room from the back door that led upstairs to the family’s private apartment. With the precision of a cat, he leapt through the air and into Garrett’s arms.
“Papa!” the little boy giggled.
The former pirate captain ruffled his son’s hair. “Afternoon, Bryce.”
The boy’s arms tightened around Garrett’s neck with the kind of hug only a young child could give. The type of embrace that involves all the strength of small muscles and love a four year old can possess. His father returned the favor with a tight squeeze of his own.
“I love you, Papa,” Bryce told him before planting a kiss on his scruffy cheek.
“There you are,” came a feminine voice from the doorway. “You’re supposed to be taking a nap, young man.”
Garrett couldn’t help but gasp at the beauty of the woman standing before him. Each time he gazed upon her was exactly like the first. Even after everything Isabela put him through in the past, one look at Maggie with her hair of fire and eyes of emerald was all it took to get his dead heart beating again.
“I just wanted to give Papa a hug,” the boy pouted.
Maggie shook her head and chuckled with a resigned grin. Her laughter was a melody sweeter than that of any minstrel, her smile a beacon, possessing the power to light up the darkest corners of Thedas. Everything about her left Garrett mesmerized, breathless.
“Alright,” she relented under the innocence of the child’s wide, crystal green-blue gaze. “But you really need to let your father work.”
Garrett bestowed a kiss on his son’s cheek before setting the boy’s feet back to the floor. “Go on, son. After your nap, I’ll take you out to watch the ships come into the harbor.”
The child clapped his chubby little hands with excitement. “Thank you, Papa!”
The former captain narrowed his lids and pursed his lips. “But only if you go take your nap now,” he reminded the boy before giving the child a light tap on the bottom. “Now, scoot.”
As Bryce ran toward the stairs, Maggie approached Garrett, her brow arched with feigned exasperation. “You spoil him too much, you know.”
Garrett grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto his lap then presented her with an uneven smirk. “Right at the moment, I’d rather be spoiling his mother, if truth be told.”
Maggie placed a gentle hand to the side of his face and rubbed the flat of her thumb across the heavy scruff on his cheek. “You’re still just an old pirate, aren’t you, my husband?”
“Always will be, love,” he confirmed as he pulled her in closer. “Got a kiss for an old pirate?”
Just as Garrett’s lips touched Maggie’s, the small bell over the door jingled, announcing the intrusion of a customer. The former captain gave a sigh as he pressed his forehead against his wife’s.
“Hold that thought, love,” he told her.
“I’ll be waiting for you upstairs,” she cooed wantonly then rose from his lap.
As she turned to walk away, Garrett gave her bottom a smack, prompting a girlish giggle to escape her lips. With the back of her hand, she swatted his arm playfully.
“Is that any way to treat a lady?” she asked.
He waggled his brows with a crooked grin. “Pirate, remember?”
A small cough from the area of the front door reminded Garrett that he and Maggie weren’t alone in the room. As much as he wanted to continue flirting with his wife, there were still bills to be paid and a business to run. The former captain directed his attention to his newly arrived patron, expecting to see one of his usual clients.
Instead, he was greeted by the sight of a young woman who appeared to be in her very early twenties, at most. She wore blue and silver leather and scale armor with brown leather accents. There was something oddly familiar about her. Something about her eyes, yet Garrett couldn’t quite place her.
“Something I can help you with, love?” he inquired.
She shifted her weight onto her right leg and folded her arms across her chest. “So this is your dream?” she asked as she scanned the room. “Interesting.”
Garrett’s brow furrowed. Dream? What was she talking about?
“Did you need to ship some cargo?” he questioned in an attempt to get the woman to hurry to make some sense so he could get upstairs to his wife.
The strange woman arched a brow. “This isn’t real, you know, Captain. None of it.”
“Nobody’s called me that in years, love,” he told her as he reached for the dagger he kept strapped beneath the top of his desk. “It’s just Garrett now.”
He hoped he was wrong, but between her armor, the blade at her hip, and the odd way she was speaking, the former captain had to assume the woman was looking for trouble. She was a bit young to be anyone he would have offended personally. Perhaps she was the daughter or granddaughter of someone he killed in his past, seeking revenge for her loved one’s death. Maybe she was an assassin or even a bounty hunter. He was certain there were petitions for his arrest in many places throughout Thedas.
“Garrett, hmm?” she questioned. “Well, then Garrett, I have a question for you. Who was that woman?”
He slipped the blade he acquired into the sleeve of his jacket and sat back in his chair. He didn’t care who this stranger was, she wasn’t getting anywhere near his family. With a simple flick of his wrist, his dagger would be embedded in the hollow of her throat. He may have been out of the game for a few years, but he hadn’t completely lost his touch.
Garrett considered her question for a long moment. What harm would it really do for him to tell her? After all, she wouldn’t be leaving there to tell anyone his answer, but he was curious who the stranger was.
“That bonny lass is my wife, Maggie,” he said. “And who might you be, love?”
“I am Solona Amell,” she replied. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but the name was familiar to him. “I threw a plate of fish at you once, many years ago, when I was a girl.”
It finally dawned on Garrett who she was. He should have recognized her by the unusual color of her eyes. He and his dad had taken her to the Circle in Ferelden many years ago. But why was she there? Had she escaped?
“I remember you, lass,” he told her. “Did you stop by to thank me for the deed?”
“Hardly,” she drawled. “Another question, if you would indulge me. Do you remember your wedding day?”
Garrett’s brow furrowed. What an odd question. Why would she ask something like that? He opened his mouth to answer, but realized he couldn’t actually recall a wedding or even Bryce’s birth. In fact, he remembered nothing of the years after that…day on the docks. The day Maggie broke his heart when she told him she was marrying someone else and had taken a potion.
His shoulders slumped as the last moments before he found himself in that office assaulted his memory. The tower, the demons, the Grey Wardens…Miri. He took one last look around at the dream he was loathe to leave behind, knowing none of it was real. His ship, his crew, those were real. That was his life. The only life that mattered or meant anything to him.
When he stood from his chair, Maggie appeared in the back doorway, holding Bryce. “Where are you going, husband?” she asked.
Garrett walked over to them and kissed Bryce on the forehead. “Don’t leave, Papa,” the boy pleaded with tears in his eyes.
Garrett sniffled trying to hold back his own tears. The child he lost, the one he would have given anything to know, was begging him to stay and he had to leave him behind.
“I love you, son,” the pirate whispered into the boy’s dark hair.
He turned to Maggie who stared up at him with confusion. Her green eyes sparkled against the light of the sun streaming through the front windows. Just the way they had the first time he saw her. He ran his fingers through her red curls, then gave her a soft, slow kiss. The kiss of farewell he was denied all those years ago.
When he circled to leave, Garrett felt Maggie’s hand grip his bicep. “You can’t go,” she told him. “I won’t let you.”
The tone of her voice was dark and menacing. It seemed to echo within itself, as if there was more than one person speaking the words at the same time. He tried to pull away from her grasp, but her fingers dug into his arm with a strength he knew she never possessed. He retrieved the dagger from his sleeve and turned to face her.
Although the creatures still retained Maggie and Bryce’s shapes, the inky blackness in the eyes of the woman and child before him told Garrett they weren’t real. Even so, he hesitated to move.
“They are demons,” he heard Solona say from behind him. “You have to destroy them in order to leave.”
“I…I can’t,” the pirate confessed, hopelessness coloring his voice.
“You must,” Solona urged. “They are designed to appear as people you care for, people you could never bring yourself to harm. They aren’t your family. You have no family. Do you?”
He shook his head. “No,” he whispered.
“It’s the only way, Captain. I’m not leaving without you, so either do it, or we die here. Both of us. Your choice.”
“Please, Papa,” he heard Bryce beg as he readied his weapon. “Please don’t hurt me. I love you.”
Tears streamed down Garrett’s cheeks as he turned his eyes to the ceiling. He hesitated only a moment before grabbing the creature by the hair and slitting its throat, the quiet gurgling of its final breaths wrenching his very soul.
Suddenly, he felt the swipe of a sharp claw slash across his cheek. The demon that had taken the form of Maggie roared as it attempted to knock Garrett to the ground with another strike of its talons. Pivoting on the balls of his feet, he spun to his left and delivered a blow to its chest with his dagger. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Solona toss her sword in his direction. He caught it by the hilt, twirled it once then brought the blade down over the back of the creature’s neck, severing its head from its body.
The delectable aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air in the small cabin. Alistair’s stomach growled from hunger and the promise of a delicious meal as he rose from his bed. He stretched his arms out wide and arched his back to relieve some of the tightness in his muscles, then retrieved his smallclothes and trousers from the floor.
As he dressed, Alistair tried to recall the dream his wife’s cooking had woken him from. Although he couldn’t remember it, it troubled him somehow. He shrugged his shoulder before throwing his shirt over his head. It was just a dream, not really important.
He headed from the bedroom into the kitchen where he spotted a very short woman dressed in a simple, tan peasant’s dress busy stirring a pot that hung over the fire. Her hair was tied back at the nape of her neck with dark sable curls spilling down her back below the binding. She turned her head and presented him with a warm smile.
“Finally decided to get out of bed after all, eh husband?”
Alistair approached her, wrapped his arms around her slight shoulders and bent to kiss her soft cheek. “Good morning, Gabby.”
“More like, ‘Good afternoon’,” she chided before returning his gesture with a kiss of her own. “Now sit down. Lunch is ready.”
“What are we having today?” he asked as he took his place at the table.
“Lamb and pea stew,” she replied as she scooped out a heaping ladleful into a bowl. “Picked up the lamb from the market this morning.”
Alistair smiled and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Lamb and pea stew was his favorite and Gabby’s was the best he ever tasted. When she placed the bowl in front of him along with a plate of piping hot bread and a small tub of honey butter, he immediately grabbed the spoon and regarded her with a boyish grin.
“Thank you, my love. It looks delicious, as always.”
After blowing on the contents of the spoon a few times to cool it, Alistair took a bite. He hummed with pleasure as he chewed his food. If paradise ever existed, surely he had found it. He couldn’t imagine ever being happier. A beautiful wife, a home of his own, everything he ever wanted. Well, almost everything, but there was always time for the rest later.
Gabby sat down in the chair next to his. She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him, awaiting some sort of compliment from him for all her hard work. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her feistiness. That fiery temper of hers was one of the things he loved the most. After making her squirm for a few moments more, he stood, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet then into his arms.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he asked.
“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” she teased. “But it bears repeating.”
He laughed as he bent and captured her lips with his in a long, tender kiss. When it was finished he backed away just far enough to gaze into her mesmerizing green-blue eyes. He was still amazed by the fact that he managed to win her heart.
A hint of a smile graced her lips as she searched his eyes. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
Alistair bent down and gathered his wife at the waist then spun her around, raining kisses all over her cheeks. His ideal life had just been made complete with those two words. He felt his heart might burst with joy. He was going to be a father.
A knock at the door prompted him to put his wife’s feet back to the ground, but did nothing to quell his overwhelming happiness. He would deal with the visitor as quickly as possible, and when they left, Alistair planned to take Gabby to bed and show his appreciation in a more physical way.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened to reveal a stately woman in what looked to be a Grey Warden uniform and a tall man dressed in black leather. They were complete strangers to Alistair, yet something about them was all too familiar. The uniformed woman scanned the room, then rolled her eyes when she spotted Gabby.
“Seriously, Alistair?” she huffed, seeming very put out.
“Do I know you?” he questioned.
“Nice set up you’ve got here, mate,” the man in leather said as his eyes trailed to Alistair’s wife.
He crossed the room and took Gabby’s hand then placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Jealousy twisted Alistair’s insides with the gesture. The suggestive smirk on the man’s face and the lecherous way he stared at her, incited a desire within Alistair to break the rogue’s nose. He balled his fists until his nails bit into the skin of his palm and clenched his jaw, readying himself for a fight.
“Captain Hawke of Yavana’s Call,” the man said in introduction. “And who might you be, my bonny lass?”
Gabby pulled her hand away with a scowl. “I’m Gabby. Gabrielle Theirin.”
The woman accompanying the captain harrumphed loudly at those words. “It figures,” she groused.
The rogue stared at Alistair a long moment. “Do you remember anything, mate? Anything about the tower or the demons? Grey Wardens? No?”
The muscles in Alistair’s hands relaxed a bit when the captain took a step away from his wife, but he kept up his guard just the same. It was beyond his comprehension why two perfect strangers would visit his home, one of them accost his wife, then start asking about demons and a tower. They were apparently mad. Given Gabby’s delicate condition, he knew he had to try to keep these uninvited guests calm. He wouldn’t provoke them, but he needed to get rid of them.
“Look,” Alistair began. “My wife and I want no trouble from you.”
“Where is your brother, Gabrielle?” the uniformed woman asked. “What was his name again?”
“My brother?” Gabby replied, her brow furrowed in confusion. “I…I don’t remember. It escapes me, somehow.”
“That’s because Alistair doesn’t know his name,” the other woman surmised. “Do you Alistair?”
He searched the recesses of his mind in light of the strange woman’s inquiry, but try as he might, he couldn’t recall. Did Gabby even have a brother? Yes, she did and a sister. What were their names?
“It seems to me, mate,” the captain interjected. “That if this woman really was your wife, you’d know the answer to that question.”
A Chantry sister told him Gabby had a brother. A Chantry sister with flaming red hair. Leliana. Alistair drew a deep breath in light of his newly found insight. He should have known it was all too perfect, that it was nothing more than a dream. He turned to his wife and saw ebony swirling within the aquamarine of her eyes. She was a demon. The same kind of demon the templars used to test mages during their Harrowings.
He glanced over at the ebony-handled cutlass resting against Captain Hawke’s left hip. With a fluid motion, he grabbed the hilt and brought the blade up to slice Gabby’s throat. Her eyes went wide as she coughed out rivulets of crimson and clutched the wound with both hands before falling to the floor with a thud. Without so much as a glimpse at the lifeless body now sprawled out at his feet, Alistair swiped the bloody blade across the sleeve of his shirt and offered it to its owner. The captain glared at him as he twirled the weapon in his hand and drove it back into its scabbard.
“Just so we’re clear, mate,” the pirate warned. “If you ever think of touching one of my blades again without my permission, I’ll run your ass through.”
Alistair answered the threat by spinning on his heel and heading toward the door. “If only,” he mumbled.
The balmy ocean breeze felt wonderful against Miriana’s skin, and the view from the crow’s nest was gorgeous as the sun set across the shimmering water. It was absolutely the ideal setting for a romantic encounter, especially for an encounter with a dashing pirate.
Calloused fingers pushed her windblown hair aside, free from the bond of its usual long braid. A pair of warm lips covered the area where her neck met her shoulder and suckled softly. Every inch of her skin prickled with gooseflesh as a pair of strong, leather covered arms encircled the young mage’s waist. The moment was perfect. Exactly how she always dreamed it would be.
“Miriana,” he whispered in a thick Antivan accent as he trailed kisses up her neck to her cheek. “So lovely, so soft.”
He raised his hand to cup her chin in his fingers and turned her lips to his. The scent of spiced Rivaini rum lingered on his breath as he closed the gap between his mouth and hers.
“Gerard,” she mewled as she gave into her need for his kiss.
She knew it was a dream. Faith told her she was trapped within the Fade when it happened, but she didn’t care. Just like when she read her storybooks, she was lost in the moment. Lost within romance and a fairy story she would never experience in her waking life.
Suddenly, she heard a voice calling up to her from the deck. “Miri!”
It was him. Garrett. Was he there to rescue her? Why did he even care? It was obviously Solona he wanted, not her. He was probably just feeling sorry for her again. Poor little waif. Such a foolish girl.
She felt Gerard’s arms tighten around her. “You are mine, mia bella.”
Miriana melted into his embrace, leaning her back into his chest, and smiled. He found her beautiful, desirable. She knew what he was, but she also knew she was in no danger of possession, and he wouldn’t harm her as long as she kept up the ruse. It wasn’t real, but it felt nice to be wanted by a man, or what seemed to be one, for once in her life.
The sound of a rope scraping across a pulley reverberated through the air. Someone was coming to disturb the peace of her dream. Most likely Solona. Garrett wouldn’t care enough to come himself.
“Gerard, I presume?”
It was Garrett. Miriana turned her head to see Captain Hawke standing at her side. The expression he wore seemed to be one of concern, but she knew he was simply trying to hide the pity he felt for her.
Gerard shoved her away from him to pull his cutlasses. In doing so, he pushed her right off the platform. Miriana screamed as she plummeted toward the deck below. She squeezed her lids shut as tightly as she could, awaiting her impending demise, but instead of her body being broken against the worn wooden surface, she fell into a pair of strong arms. When she opened her eyes, they were met with the gaze of Alistair’s hazel-green ones and a worried smile.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “That was quite a fall.”
“Yes,” she whispered as he lowered her to the ground.
When her trembling knees buckled under her own weight, he caught her waist and helped her remain standing. “Whoa,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she replied with what she knew was a ridiculously goofy grin.
A few seconds later, she heard Garrett bellow from above. “Get off my ship, you bastard.”
The next moment, the body of a man with black hair dressed in leather from head to toe was flying through the air and over the railing. A tremendous splash echoed on the wind as Captain Hawke used the special rigging to descend to the deck. When his feet touched down, he was met with the questioning arch of Solona’s brow.
He shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to do that. Glad I finally got the chance.”
Even after all these years the thought of what I had to do in the Fade that day still haunts me. I know it wasn’t real, and I’ve killed countless demons over the years, but killing those two was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I never could bring myself to name any of my sons Bryce because, in my heart, I knew I would relive that moment every time I called his name.
When I saw Gabs in Alistair’s dream, I couldn’t help but notice how absolutely beautiful she was. At the time, I figured it was just his vision of what she looked like. People in love or even people who are infatuated seem to see what they want instead of what is really there. When I finally met her later, however, I must admit she was every bit as stunning as she had been in his dream. It’s no wonder he was so enamored with her back then.
Gerard. I hated that bastard, wishing for years he was real so I could run him through. When I came face to face with him in Miri’s dream, however, I have to admit, I was still quite shaken by what I had been forced to do in my own. Then, when I saw Alistair catch Miri and knew she was safe, I snapped. I made Gerard pay for pushing her off the crow’s nest. For every pent-up hurt I felt from my own vision. For every single time someone said, "You remind me of a character I read in a book."
After slamming that bastard's head into the mast, I pulled a dagger from my belt and slit his throat. I considered leaving his body in the nest, lashing him to the mast as a macabre decoration, but I just couldn’t bear the thought of his sorry ass anywhere near the Call, even if it was only in the Fade. She was my lady, not his. So, I grabbed his shirt and his belt and tossed his worthless hide off my ship. If only I could have done the same to the dwarf that put him there in the first place.
-G
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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight