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peopleofthedas2011-05-01 11:31 am
twist_shimmy) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-05-01 11:31 am
Vir Lath Sa’vunin B-Side Track Seven
Vir Lath Sa’vunin B-Side Track Seven
Occurs directly after Chapter Sixty-Four
Title: You Are Guilty! You Have Been Found Guilty of Every Crime Under the Sun. (Ego Likeness)
Characters: Sarel, f!Mahariel (Tesni), m!Mahariel (Caerwyn), Leliana, Alistair, Zevran
Rating: NSFS (Not Safe for Shems)
Word Count: 1200
Summary: There are too few of us left to lose to shemlen and flat-ears. How could the children of Clan Mahariel have strayed so far so fast?
A/N: Sorry about the missed week, darlings. It’s hard to type and edit when only two fingers on your left hand are functional, and my voice dictation program plays poorly with elvish. For those of you whom I have promised fic, that’s the cause of the delay there, as well. Hand Death always happens at the least opportune times. Ignore Lenna; it wasn't Formspring :P.
SAREL
Seth'lin.
It happened, sometimes. Good Dalish youths who fled their clan to follow flat-eared elves, or worse, shemlen. It was one of the many reasons Zathrian had taken to never letting the clan camp too close to villages, and only those with mates were sent out to trade when they were in need of supplies only the shems could provide. Many of the northern clans were less strict, and at every Arlathvheni it seemed another of their clansmen had become seth'lin. At this rate, there would be no one left to remember the old ways, and the last of our culture would limp and die.
The old clan Mahariel keeper had known this. He had also been one of the few to insist that a closer relationship with shemlen was necessary, if only so we would cease to lose our own people to ways they didn't fully understand. If the Dalish weren't feared, he'd always insisted, more would come, and if the shem ways were known instead of dreamed about, fewer would leave.
When the Grey Wardens and their... companions arrived, I recognized them instantly. She had her father's hair, and they both had their mother's eyes. The last time I'd seen her, she'd only just earned her vallaslin, and yet there he stood beside her, the black half of his face making me feel old. I sifted through my memories as they approached Zathrian, seeking their names.
Tesni, the sun's warmth. And her brother Caerwyn, the white fortress. Their mother had named them well; that much was clear by the set of their shoulders and the sheer extent of their vallaslin. Perhaps the Creators were watching over us, after all, to send two such strong Dalish to our clan in our time of need.
And then we sat and watched them interact with their companions, and the longer they were in camp, the clearer it became. Seth'lin. Keeper's children, lost-- to two shemlen and a flat-ear. When I first realized it, I could almost hear Fen’Harel laughing.
The shemlen Warden was the first clue. Many of the clan found the markings on his face odd, but human warriors seemed to have a tendency to tattoo their faces to make themselves look more intimidating to their enemies. Given his profession, I thought nothing of it until Tesni caught him scratching at the tail of the griffon on his left temple.
“You’re going to make it scar,” she hissed at him.
“It itches!”
She rummaged in her pack and took out several herbs. After selecting a leaf from each, she twisted them together and bit down several times. When she moved to press it to the tattoo, he tried to block her hand, and she smacked it away. “Stop it. This will make it stop itching.”
“But-but....”
“You spend half your time covered in darkspawn blood, and you’re worried about a little spittle?” She rubbed the mash against his tattoo with gentle fingers. “Now let it dry.”
“Ugh.”
“Silly brother,” she said, and tucked his bangs behind his ear while he grinned at her sheepishly.
Tesni must have felt my eyes on her, because she turned and met my gaze, looking embarrassed for the briefest of moments before nodding at me and turning to speak with Master Varathorn. The shemlen saw me watching, shrugged awkwardly, and followed after her like a dumb beast.
Calling him brother, coddling him like a da’len. It was sickening, but... he was a Grey Warden. They were forced to travel together. Such familiarity was unfortunate, but alone it was not enough to suggest that they had become seth’lin. It was necessary to develop close relationships with those meant to help keep you alive in battle.
But later that afternoon, the flat-ear walked up beside her while she was speaking with the keeper’s First and announced his presence by brushing his fingers against the small of her back. Perhaps he thought that he was being subtle, but several of the clan noticed the gesture and shared significant glances with one another. The flat-ear appeared oblivious, but Tesni noticed, and her jaw clenched.
At least she had the decency to be ashamed. Perhaps she didn’t--but no, he murmured something to her in his strange language, and she smiled at him.
The keeper’s daughter, sister to a shemlen, and lover of a flat-ear.
Seth-lin. What sort of example did she think that she was setting for her young brother?
I should have known that he would be the worst. With guidance such as hers, it shouldn’t have surprised me to see him sharing a glance with the shem’asha. He was leading them around camp, telling them about our gods and explaining how day-to-day life worked as a member of a clan. Useful information, if only to keep them from getting underfoot. Things were tense enough already with the screams of our sick hunters and the stench of blood.
“Here’s the halla,” he said to the shem’asha, pointing toward the pen. “You’ll like them.”
“Oh, ma moitié, they’re beautiful! Look at their horns!”
“See? Better than horses.” And then his fingers twitched as though he were about to hold her hand, and I felt bile rise in my throat as she smiled down at him fondly in response.
A shemlen? They had destroyed our people, taken away our lands twice, deprived of us of our immortality, our magics, and most of our language. And yet he was acting as though he had chosen the human girl for a mate.
Seth’lin. Both of them, thin-blooded. Would that they had died rather than shaming themselves, their clan, and their parents so completely. The daughter knew what we were thinking, and had the decency to act guilty, but the son appeared to have no idea that anything was wrong.
Zathrian stood beside me after dinner, watching as they retreated with their... companions to the tents they had pitched nearby. Three tents for five people. It would be too much to hope that Tesni and Caerwyn would share.
“It is... unfortunate to see what has happened to them,” Zathrian murmured. “Their father was an excellent man.”
“There must be something we can do. How could they have allowed this to happen to themselves?” I asked.
The keeper frowned. “And who do they have to listen to? Tesni told me everything that happened. Their lethallin was killed, and the Wardens took them from their clan, where they belonged. They have had no role model, no one to guide them. Do not blame them, Sarel. Marethari should never have let them go.”
I shook my head. “Abelas, keeper. I suppose it would be foolish to believe that they would listen to you.”
He frowned and slid his thumb along his staff. “It has been too long. They no longer trust their own people as they should.”
That was it, then. “And so we fail them as thoroughly as they have failed themselves?”
Zathrian stared through the trees, deep in thought. “No,” he said finally. “We are in the Brecilian Forest, and the Veil is thin here. If the living cannot help them, then we shall appeal to the dead.”
iArlathvhen: Meeting of the Dalish clans. Occurs once a decade.
“And so we fail them as thoroughly as they have failed themselves?”
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I LOVE Sarel. He is perfectly hateable and an absolute ass and writing this chapter was excruciating. His only redeeming quality is his physical attractiveness.
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Doesn't sound odd at all, but then maybe I'm not the best person to judge. Shimmy and I are very proud of how we've developed Caerwyn's and Tesni's "Dalishness" and put it up against the world they have to live in now. We've been planning these "coming home" chapters for a long time with a mixture of dread and glee because they make for important landmarks in characterization (like the Deep Roads for Caer and Denerim for Tesni).
Very honored to be so squee-worthy and hope you keep enjoying the series! :D
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Wow, I didn't think I could hate Sarel more. Though in the back of my head, Mira's telling me she wanted to thank him; his being such an asshole made her respond by being all over Alistair, just to yank his chain.
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Awful in the sense that putting myself of someone that small-minded and racist was painful and more than moderately disturbing. Sarel is one of my favorite characters simply because he is pretty. And then he opens his mouth and I want him to die violently. No matter WHO I am playing.
Even my other Dalish dislike Sarel. That's nearling MAGICAL ABILITY right there.