In Search of a Wolf - The Elves of Fen'Harel Book 1 (Dragon Age)

Just Another Elf

           

It was day six of her new life in the Inquisition. Laisa had been given a bed in the servant's quarters, food and fresh clothing. She'd also been insulted numerous times, pushed around and otherwise outright ignored. They'd found work for her in the stables after she mentioned taking care of her clan's halla.

"I've no time for you, knife-ear!" A man had snarled at her when she'd asked after her elven friends.

            "It's like an infestation of the things." His friend had said, looking at her with distaste. She wondered if they ever spoke of Lavellan in such terms. It seemed to her that everyone conveniently 'forgot' that their Inquisitor was a lowly elf.

            They were right in some ways though. There were a lot of elves here, mainly as servants, but others among the soldiers and scouts and mages. Among the Dalish, she had learned to fear humans, and in this fortress, it seemed she was right.

            Elven servants were insulted, and even beaten, as a daily recurrence. There were so many people, and yet she'd never felt so alone. Eagan had almost immediately been sucked back into work, with old friends. He was home. Malika spent most of her time with Varric, and together they spoke of plans to return to Kirkwall.

            Laisa was forgotten, just another elf. It felt like a prison, but she had nowhere else to go. She missed the sound of her own language fluttering on the breeze, the feel of the earth beneath her feet, the presence of nature, in this place of stone and iron. The only place she found any peace was in the garden.

            Even that was surrounded by stone: set in the centre of shadowy cloisters. Nevertheless, it had a sense of serenity missing in the rest of Skyhold, with a bandstand, various medicinal plants growing and trees gently wafting in the breeze. At least she could smell the flowers. It was pleasant to get away from the stench of sweat and dung, to brush the straw from her clothes. Escaping the sound of clashing swords, and shouting men was wonderful.

            She sat alone, while people whizzed about her, trying not to succumb to tears. She missed her old life, within a clan, where she lived with elves, and understood customs, and was treated like an equal.

         "Laisa?" A voice called out. It was raw with hope and fear. She raised her head to see Arana staring across the garden at her. No words could describe the emotion they felt as they hurtled into each other's arms, clinging tightly to one another. "How?" Arana kept saying, "How?" Laisa told her story, sitting side by side, arms linked. "Nanin isn't going to believe it!" Arana laughed, "We were sure you were dead. He hates it here." She admitted, "But it's all we have. And I enjoy the company of the other mages. I live in comfort here."

            They found Nanin in the tavern. He had joined the scouts and was enjoying a drink in the afternoon sunlight. At the sight of Laisa, his jaw dropped and the drink slipped from his grasp in his haste to embrace her. "Da'len, I cannot believe it!" He seemed as if it he would cry.

          Together the three of them sat in the tavern, Laisa jumping nervously at the noise. She coughed at the taste of ale, preferring the glass of wine that Arana handed her, laughing. She was introduced to a few of their friends, largely other elves who were in the mages or scouts.

            That evening, they took her on their own tour of the castle. Arana seemed happier than Laisa had seen her in a long time. The Mages' quarters were luxurious, and it was clear her friend enjoyed the company of those like her, the magic, the books and research.

         Nanin was more reserved. He had never approved of the elven leader of such an organisation, and his thoughts on how elves were treated here mirrored Laisa's own. They told her, standing together staring at the view of the mountains that, if anyone bothered her, she was to come to them immediately.