Fan Fiction: Dragon Age II

I probably should have used the picture from the last fan-fiction post for this post but be that as it may, this picture wasn’t that bad either. This is a wallpaper option from http://www.wallpapersource.co/dragon-age-2-fire-hd-wallpaper/. I would have loved to have found one with more than just Hawke and Flemeth, but this isn’t bad.

I really revamped this one, for me it’s actually a combination of two chapters. Enjoy!


The Price of Freedom

“Flemeth.” Small Fry said absently as he looked down at the table. “I’m sure she was proud enough to state every name she’s been given through the years. Tell me, was Cassandra surprised?”

Varric stood up, walked over to one of his casks and took out a bottle. He then walked towards and past Small Fry to the cabinet behind him and procured two chalices. Returning to the table, he placed one of them before the elf and poured some of the contents of the wine bottle into it. He then walked back over to his chair. “Well, I thought that bit of information would be of interest to her.” Varric replied. “Although she was reluctant to believe a myth swooped out of the Wilds to save the Champion.”

Small Fry grinned then took up the chalice and looked at it for a moment before speaking. “Yes, that does sound like her to a T. Did you have to recite the tale of the Warden to her as well?”

He shook his head. “No. She finally admitted that Flemeth’s involvement wasn’t as far-fetched as she had come to believe. But for a moment, she didn’t believe what I was saying.”

Small Fry nodded as he took a drink. “Questioned what you were telling her, did she?”

“Or what I wasn’t. Not that it mattered much; what was most important was that Flemeth offered to get Hawke and his group past the horde in exchange for what she claimed would be a simple delivery.”

“A delivery. The one to the Dalish.”

“That’s what he told me but there was more to the price to be paid than just this delivery.”

“You mean the Templar?”

“Wesley. He was more than injured, he was writhing in pain. He suggested that the group leave him behind, but Aveline wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Sometimes there’s not much choice. What you described to Cassandra – he swallowed Darkspawn blood.”

Varric nodded. “That part worried Hawke, because they all had been fighting the creatures. When Flemeth said what she did, he pleaded that there had to be something someone could do to help. He didn’t want to lose another person, even if that someone was a Templar who he didn’t really know.”

“The only known ‘cure’ is to become a Grey Warden.” The elf stated. “And at the time it had been believed that they all died at Ostagar.”

“Hawke told me what Flemeth said: Not all, but the last are … now beyond your reach. I didn’t say this to Cassandra, but Hawke caught Flemeth’s action when she said it – she turned and narrowed her eyes at Hawke as she said the last part, as though he was contradicting her response.”

“Did she have any inkling about Mother?”

“Are you asking about Flemeth or Cassandra?”

“Cassandra.”

“No. It didn’t appear that she did, but that made no difference. At that point in time your mother wasn’t involved, so everything I told her was the exact truth as much as I could describe it since I too wasn’t there to witness it firsthand. I think it was more that she felt Flemeth was somehow part of the cause of this whole mess.”

“Interesting. She couldn’t have originally thought that the Witch was involved in all this. I do wish she wouldn’t make assumptions until all the facts are laid out.”

“She’s not the only one who does that, Small Fry.”

The elf ignored the statement. “Did Mother ever meet her? Flemeth I mean.”

“No. The witch never made an appearance while your mother was with me or any of our group.”

“That doesn’t mean she wasn’t aware of her.”

“True. Stories I’ve heard and personal interaction confirms that she has knowledge of quite a bit that goes on in Thedas. Makes me jealous.” Varric chuckled. “If either was aware of the other, well, Flemeth that I know of never ventured to seek her out. Your mother never mentioned to me that she saw or spoke to the infamous Witch of the Wilds; I don’t recall Hawke mentioning it either. Whether Anders or Merrill knew…” Varric shrugged. “Fate or chance or maybe both intervened.”

“But, from what you said of her just now…

“I know why you’re asking.”

The elf raised an eyebrow.

Varric grinned. “I’ll save that for later though.”

Small Fry sighed. “I cannot imagine what Aveline went through, what had to be going through her mind when she was asked to kill her own husband. I can’t imagine anyone having to do that.

“Just wait then, Small Fry, my story gets better. ‘Without an end, there can be no peace.’ That’s what the witch said when she turned and walked away from them. ‘It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun’. What do you think she meant by that?”

The elf merely sat quietly looking at his uncle, contemplating everything said so far.

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