When Fate Summons (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Dream Walkin'

Orzammar looked just like she'd always thought it would, only bigger and grander and more amazing. Anawyn's jaw dropped as she stared up into the endless cavern above her head, and she nearly tripped over her own feet.

The dwarf at the door had been reluctant to let them in without some kind of official authorization, but Granny had convinced him she was just a simple woman trying to educate her grand-daughters, and how could their education be considered complete without a visit to Orzammar, one of the greatest wonders in all of Thedas? The dwarf had agreed to that readily enough, and the massive doors had been opened for them. Much to Anawyn's disappointment, Granny had hurried them past the statue of her mother in the Hall of the Paragons, although the statue was more representative than realistic. It showed her mother looking more like the pictures of golems Anawyn had seen than like a real, living dwarf.

Now they were in the midst of the great city itself, hearing the hammering of the smiths at their labors, the voices of the merchants crying out their wares, the roar of the lava river beneath them. Cybele clung to Anawyn's hand, her golden eyes huge and round in her face. A black-bearded dwarf met them as they exited the Hall of the Paragons.

"You have business here?"

"Yes," Granny said, smiling politely at him. "My grand-daughters and I are on a tour of Ferelden, and we came here to see your great city."

"Ah. Well, then," the dwarf said gruffly. "You'll need a place to stay. May I recommend the White Bronto? It's clean and ... quiet."

"Thank you." Granny nodded at him, and she moved off into the crowd with the girls behind her. The black-haired dwarf made a notation on the tablet in his hand, and called a messenger to him. They spoke for a moment, then the messenger ran off.

Granny got them a room at the White Bronto, and they settled in. The hour wasn't overly late, but the close, hot air of Orzammar had all three of them yawning. After a meal of fried nug, which Flemeth and Cybele ate gingerly and Anawyn dug into with gusto (it was one of Uncle Oghren's favorites), they returned to the room. There was a real mirror in the room, just the right height for the girls, and they jostled with each other to see who would get to brush their hair in the mirror first. As they stood there side by side, Anawyn remembered what Urthemiel had said. She studied the reflections. Their coloring was radically different, Cybele's heavy fall of black hair and glittering golden eyes an exotic contrast to what Anawyn considered fairly boring red-gold hair and brown eyes. But as she stared, Anawyn thought she could see some similarities. The shape of the nose, for example, was very alike, as well as that of the mouth.

Cybele caught her eyes in the mirror. "Are you all right? You seem lost in thought."

Anawyn shook herself. "I'm okay. Just ... remembering something someone once said to me." She busied herself braiding her long hair for bedtime. Even though it was still fairly early, they were all happy to head to their beds, leaving any further sightseeing in the city until tomorrow.

Some time later, Anawyn swam out of the depths of sleep to find herself back in the landscape of the Fade. She looked around her curiously, taking in the shapeless yellow lumps of some kind of earth-like substance and the random columns and stonework that stood around. After a few moments, she became aware of Urthemiel's musical voice calling for her. "I'm here!" she shouted. "Where are you?"

As she walked through the Fade, the scenery kept shifting, foggy depictions of rooms and landscapes shimmering around her. Eventually, she walked into a large circular room lined with dark, gleaming wood bookshelves filled with leather-bound books. "What is this?" she asked, looking around her.