All the world's a stage (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
le_monde) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
peopleofthedas2011-06-26 10:15 am
le_monde) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-06-26 10:15 am
Fic: Disquiet 9/? M overall
Title: Disquiet 9/?: Star Fang
Author: Briala
Rating: M overall
Summary: Five Guardians: The Sten, The Assassin, The Kinslayer, The Old Warden, and The Dog. Each playing their part in the Dalish Warden’s life, which in turn adds to the greater wheel of Thedas.
Disclaimer: All Dragon Age characters and places belong to BioWare. I aim to make no profit off of this, so please keep those lawyers (including my own) in check.
WARNING! This story contains: Too many spoilers to count, Sex, Rape, and Abuse.
AN: Bon voyage,1smut_princess. Sing out when you land safely!
*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Nine: Star Fang
*~*~*~*~*
"No rest for the wicked and the righteous don't need none." – Uncle Billy, Jan Karon, The Mitford Series
The Bard and the Weakling repack the secondary armor into storage at Soldier’s Peak. The courtyard of the Warden's fort bustles with the coming and goings of carts and children playing tag. The Warden approaches the weapons master, Mikhael Dryden and lifts a rather heavy sack onto his table.
Opening the sack he whistles. "Star metal! Warden, I can make you a weapon the likes of which you have never seen. Tell me who will wield it?"
She points at Sten.
"One or two handed?" She holds up two fingers. "Very well. Give me two days and I will make you this weapon..."
The Warden turns from the heat of the forge into Sten.
He lifts her face to his, "You have returned Asala to me. It is enough."
She shakes her head, no.
As they enter the keep, she wanders left into the barracks to set down her pack while everyone else heads to the dining hall on the right. Sten follows her and finds himself being assessed by her jungle green eyes. He is cold, something he detests about Ferelden. Heat flows into him, warming everything from his nose, his ears, and down to his toes. The Warden even soothes away the ache he gets in his shoulder when she's used his arm as a pillow. Pulling him out the door, they join the others for a meal.
After eating, Sten takes the Warden upstairs to the mirror room, the largest room in the keep. He finds some staves and they test her new armor. It does offer amazing protection and her ability to evade a blow is greatly increased. But when he does score a hit, the armor cannot save her from being knocked back or knocked down. Sten enlists the help of the Weakling with his sword and shield techniques and the Assassin with his lightening quick sword and dagger style.
The Weakling gives her trouble with his shield. After scrambling ahead of him, she briefly touches her practice staff against him and finds she can cause him to tire rapidly. Eventually he yields, unable to hold up his shield and keep up with her quick movements while in his heavy armor.
The Assassin however proves to be a more than a contest for the Warden. He is faster than she, and is difficult to touch. The Assassin taunts her smacking her rear with the flat of his blade which causes the Warden to lose her temper. With a snap in the air the Assassin finds himself locked in place, paralyzed and gasping for air. He begs for his "dear Warden" to release him, but she stalks angrily from practice floor, tugging the helmet from her head, not giving either of them a second look.
Sten hears the door to the keep open and looks out the window to see the Warden step out into the courtyard, breathing in the cold mountain air for a few minutes. He sees her gradual return to herself and is pleased when she reenters the keep and climbs the stairs, her good humor restored once more.
She releases the Assassin from the spell.
He chuckles, "Nice trick. Where have you been hiding that one, my sweet Warden?"
She bares her teeth, shoves on her helmet, and readies her practice staff.
Although she rarely is able to touch the Assassin, her armor protects her from most of his rapid blows. Each time he closes with, or touches her with his practice weapons, she is able to paralyze or drain his endurance. The Assassin, tiring, begs a reprieve eventually. She reaches out her hand healing his tired muscles.
With minor interruptions from Sten, the rest of the company relaxes for two days. The Old Mage writes letters while the Bard plays her lute. Alternating between watching the sword being made and playing cards with whoever will play with him, the Weakling entertains himself. The Witch reads and schemes before the fire. Even the Assassin seems to relax his watchful gaze.
The Warden, sore and tired from the day's activities, makes her rounds, checking in with each of her companions. She eases the cold in the Old Mage's joints, cools a burn on the Weakling's hand where he touched the hot sword, and soothes the Assassin and the Bard's wounded hearts. She even listens to what the Witch had learned from her days’ reading. Lastly, she lazes next to him, on the bear skin rug in front of the fire filling him with warmth all the way down to his toes. With his eyes closed Sten almost forgets that he is far away from home on a cold mountain peak. He can imagine that he is in the jungle. She actually hears him sigh contentedly.
The first night, the Warden slips away from Sten's side and puts on her robes and low cut boots. He hears her light footsteps on the stairs and discretely follows her. She heads through the mirror room up to the door connecting the keep to the tower where the Corrupted Mage resides. Crossing the bridge and she enters the tower.
Sten frowns when he reaches the door to the tower as the Warden has wedged a book in the door so it would not latch behind her. She knows he follows her and has made it possible for him to enter without alerting the Corrupted Mage with a blast of cold air. The Warden does not trust the Corrupted Mage either.
He enters, quietly closing the door behind him. She has left the far right hand door open to the laboratory so that he can enter the outer room without being seen and still listen. Clever Warden, is she trying to be a rogue now, not just a warrior?
Sten listens to the Corrupted Mage greet her and begin to discuss his research about matching the blood of the initiate and the darkspawn for a joining. Apparently she writes a question, as the Corrupted Mage answers and expounds on his findings. Having listened to her talk of this at night in her sleep and with the new information the mage provides, he is able to follow the 'conversation.'
He hears the Corrupted Mage begin to cast a spell, but before Sten can react, the mage's voice is cut off mid-word. Silently he steps into the doorway, ready to kill the mage, if necessary. The mage's hands are wrapped around his own throat strangling himself. Sten steps back around the corner, knowing the Warden has matters well in hand. He hears the mage gasp for breath and apologize for his behavior. The Warden visits with the mage for several more hours, probably healing him, as the Corrupted Mage's voice grows stronger as they 'discuss' their shared research.
Eventually the mage wishes the Warden a good night and tells her to show herself out. She exits the laboratory and puts on the cloak she left in front of the fire in the outer room. As she is visible to the mage, through the open door, she does not acknowledge Sten leaning against the far wall. He opens the door and shuts it behind them.
Crossing the bridge back to the keep, Sten says, "He is not to be trusted."
The Warden squeezes his hand.
…
On the afternoon of the third day, as the Warden rolls from a solid strike, the weapon's master climbs the stairs to the second floor. Although Sten heard the footsteps behind him, he wants to teach her why she should not let her guard down. He hits her helmet and it rings like a bell. He immediately regrets his decision as he feels and hears a crack in his spine as the Warden paralyzes him. She pulls off her helmet and promptly beats him with her stick, taking great pains to strike each and every one of the vulnerable spots in his armor until she successfully rotates his body to face their guest. She then cracks Sten on his helmet ringing it like a bell.
Mikhael Dryden eyes the Warden cautiously and does his best not to flinch as someone who had just successfully beaten a giant approaches him. Sten just stands there, unable to move except for gasping for breath, thankful that he is unable to groan aloud about a rather good strike to his groin, followed by a vicious one to his armpit and the multiple ferocious hits to the back of his knees and neck.
Holding out the weapon, the weapon smith said, "I bring you Star Fang."
She stares at it.
Sten did have to admit it was a beautiful weapon, nothing like Asala, but then given his current state, he is unable to say anything about that either.
"Warden?" asks Mikhael, thinking her displeased.
The Warden shakes off her daze and smiles. She spins back to Sten, eyes bright and realizes where she left him and what she just did to him. Shame sweeps over her face and she drops her eyes. She releases him gently. As Sten takes the sword from the weapons master, the Warden apologizes by healing every strike she made in anger and returns to him the warmth of his homeland.
Sten nods his thanks and puts Star Fang through its paces while she looks on with her arm around the weapon smith. While Sten practices, she kisses Mikhael on the cheek, eyes shining.
"You're welcome, Warden. However, I must rest from my exertions." He attempts to pull away, but she hugs him, healing his aches and pains, before allowing him to make his escape.
She watches Sten for several hours as he works through the steps becoming used to the heft, reach, and weight of Star Fang. As they head downstairs he puts a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Kadan. I will work to become worthy of this rare gift."
Tentatively he touches the emblem, the tool on the end of her braid that rests on her shoulder. It is made of animal horn carved in the shape of a leaf. Her eyes watch his finger following the veins engraved in the smoothed surface and then snags his gaze with a warning look. He withdraws his hand.
Tomorrow they begin the trek down the long road to Orzammar.
Author: Briala
Rating: M overall
Summary: Five Guardians: The Sten, The Assassin, The Kinslayer, The Old Warden, and The Dog. Each playing their part in the Dalish Warden’s life, which in turn adds to the greater wheel of Thedas.
Disclaimer: All Dragon Age characters and places belong to BioWare. I aim to make no profit off of this, so please keep those lawyers (including my own) in check.
WARNING! This story contains: Too many spoilers to count, Sex, Rape, and Abuse.
AN: Bon voyage,
1smut_princess. Sing out when you land safely!*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Nine: Star Fang
*~*~*~*~*
"No rest for the wicked and the righteous don't need none." – Uncle Billy, Jan Karon, The Mitford Series
The Bard and the Weakling repack the secondary armor into storage at Soldier’s Peak. The courtyard of the Warden's fort bustles with the coming and goings of carts and children playing tag. The Warden approaches the weapons master, Mikhael Dryden and lifts a rather heavy sack onto his table.
Opening the sack he whistles. "Star metal! Warden, I can make you a weapon the likes of which you have never seen. Tell me who will wield it?"
She points at Sten.
"One or two handed?" She holds up two fingers. "Very well. Give me two days and I will make you this weapon..."
The Warden turns from the heat of the forge into Sten.
He lifts her face to his, "You have returned Asala to me. It is enough."
She shakes her head, no.
As they enter the keep, she wanders left into the barracks to set down her pack while everyone else heads to the dining hall on the right. Sten follows her and finds himself being assessed by her jungle green eyes. He is cold, something he detests about Ferelden. Heat flows into him, warming everything from his nose, his ears, and down to his toes. The Warden even soothes away the ache he gets in his shoulder when she's used his arm as a pillow. Pulling him out the door, they join the others for a meal.
After eating, Sten takes the Warden upstairs to the mirror room, the largest room in the keep. He finds some staves and they test her new armor. It does offer amazing protection and her ability to evade a blow is greatly increased. But when he does score a hit, the armor cannot save her from being knocked back or knocked down. Sten enlists the help of the Weakling with his sword and shield techniques and the Assassin with his lightening quick sword and dagger style.
The Weakling gives her trouble with his shield. After scrambling ahead of him, she briefly touches her practice staff against him and finds she can cause him to tire rapidly. Eventually he yields, unable to hold up his shield and keep up with her quick movements while in his heavy armor.
The Assassin however proves to be a more than a contest for the Warden. He is faster than she, and is difficult to touch. The Assassin taunts her smacking her rear with the flat of his blade which causes the Warden to lose her temper. With a snap in the air the Assassin finds himself locked in place, paralyzed and gasping for air. He begs for his "dear Warden" to release him, but she stalks angrily from practice floor, tugging the helmet from her head, not giving either of them a second look.
Sten hears the door to the keep open and looks out the window to see the Warden step out into the courtyard, breathing in the cold mountain air for a few minutes. He sees her gradual return to herself and is pleased when she reenters the keep and climbs the stairs, her good humor restored once more.
She releases the Assassin from the spell.
He chuckles, "Nice trick. Where have you been hiding that one, my sweet Warden?"
She bares her teeth, shoves on her helmet, and readies her practice staff.
Although she rarely is able to touch the Assassin, her armor protects her from most of his rapid blows. Each time he closes with, or touches her with his practice weapons, she is able to paralyze or drain his endurance. The Assassin, tiring, begs a reprieve eventually. She reaches out her hand healing his tired muscles.
With minor interruptions from Sten, the rest of the company relaxes for two days. The Old Mage writes letters while the Bard plays her lute. Alternating between watching the sword being made and playing cards with whoever will play with him, the Weakling entertains himself. The Witch reads and schemes before the fire. Even the Assassin seems to relax his watchful gaze.
The Warden, sore and tired from the day's activities, makes her rounds, checking in with each of her companions. She eases the cold in the Old Mage's joints, cools a burn on the Weakling's hand where he touched the hot sword, and soothes the Assassin and the Bard's wounded hearts. She even listens to what the Witch had learned from her days’ reading. Lastly, she lazes next to him, on the bear skin rug in front of the fire filling him with warmth all the way down to his toes. With his eyes closed Sten almost forgets that he is far away from home on a cold mountain peak. He can imagine that he is in the jungle. She actually hears him sigh contentedly.
The first night, the Warden slips away from Sten's side and puts on her robes and low cut boots. He hears her light footsteps on the stairs and discretely follows her. She heads through the mirror room up to the door connecting the keep to the tower where the Corrupted Mage resides. Crossing the bridge and she enters the tower.
Sten frowns when he reaches the door to the tower as the Warden has wedged a book in the door so it would not latch behind her. She knows he follows her and has made it possible for him to enter without alerting the Corrupted Mage with a blast of cold air. The Warden does not trust the Corrupted Mage either.
He enters, quietly closing the door behind him. She has left the far right hand door open to the laboratory so that he can enter the outer room without being seen and still listen. Clever Warden, is she trying to be a rogue now, not just a warrior?
Sten listens to the Corrupted Mage greet her and begin to discuss his research about matching the blood of the initiate and the darkspawn for a joining. Apparently she writes a question, as the Corrupted Mage answers and expounds on his findings. Having listened to her talk of this at night in her sleep and with the new information the mage provides, he is able to follow the 'conversation.'
He hears the Corrupted Mage begin to cast a spell, but before Sten can react, the mage's voice is cut off mid-word. Silently he steps into the doorway, ready to kill the mage, if necessary. The mage's hands are wrapped around his own throat strangling himself. Sten steps back around the corner, knowing the Warden has matters well in hand. He hears the mage gasp for breath and apologize for his behavior. The Warden visits with the mage for several more hours, probably healing him, as the Corrupted Mage's voice grows stronger as they 'discuss' their shared research.
Eventually the mage wishes the Warden a good night and tells her to show herself out. She exits the laboratory and puts on the cloak she left in front of the fire in the outer room. As she is visible to the mage, through the open door, she does not acknowledge Sten leaning against the far wall. He opens the door and shuts it behind them.
Crossing the bridge back to the keep, Sten says, "He is not to be trusted."
The Warden squeezes his hand.
…
On the afternoon of the third day, as the Warden rolls from a solid strike, the weapon's master climbs the stairs to the second floor. Although Sten heard the footsteps behind him, he wants to teach her why she should not let her guard down. He hits her helmet and it rings like a bell. He immediately regrets his decision as he feels and hears a crack in his spine as the Warden paralyzes him. She pulls off her helmet and promptly beats him with her stick, taking great pains to strike each and every one of the vulnerable spots in his armor until she successfully rotates his body to face their guest. She then cracks Sten on his helmet ringing it like a bell.
Mikhael Dryden eyes the Warden cautiously and does his best not to flinch as someone who had just successfully beaten a giant approaches him. Sten just stands there, unable to move except for gasping for breath, thankful that he is unable to groan aloud about a rather good strike to his groin, followed by a vicious one to his armpit and the multiple ferocious hits to the back of his knees and neck.
Holding out the weapon, the weapon smith said, "I bring you Star Fang."
She stares at it.
Sten did have to admit it was a beautiful weapon, nothing like Asala, but then given his current state, he is unable to say anything about that either.
"Warden?" asks Mikhael, thinking her displeased.
The Warden shakes off her daze and smiles. She spins back to Sten, eyes bright and realizes where she left him and what she just did to him. Shame sweeps over her face and she drops her eyes. She releases him gently. As Sten takes the sword from the weapons master, the Warden apologizes by healing every strike she made in anger and returns to him the warmth of his homeland.
Sten nods his thanks and puts Star Fang through its paces while she looks on with her arm around the weapon smith. While Sten practices, she kisses Mikhael on the cheek, eyes shining.
"You're welcome, Warden. However, I must rest from my exertions." He attempts to pull away, but she hugs him, healing his aches and pains, before allowing him to make his escape.
She watches Sten for several hours as he works through the steps becoming used to the heft, reach, and weight of Star Fang. As they head downstairs he puts a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Kadan. I will work to become worthy of this rare gift."
Tentatively he touches the emblem, the tool on the end of her braid that rests on her shoulder. It is made of animal horn carved in the shape of a leaf. Her eyes watch his finger following the veins engraved in the smoothed surface and then snags his gaze with a warning look. He withdraws his hand.
Tomorrow they begin the trek down the long road to Orzammar.