#alia tabris

[elfcollector]

drown pain effectively

rating: Teen

relationships: Zevran / Warden, platonic Warden / Morrigan and Warden / Alistair

warnings: Panic attacks, implied violence

summary:  Alia Tabris finds herself panicking while infiltrating the Arl of Denerim's estate to save Queen Anora, haunted by memories that she hasn't dared to share. The others needn't understand to help, however.

"My friend, you need to breathe."

Zevran curses himself almost before he can process why — some part of his mind processing, past the Crow training that demands he focus only on the job, that Morrigan calls only one person her friend, and that is Alia. And that means, of course, that Alia is not breathing.

He turns on his heel, hears Alistair follow suit only a moment later, and sees that his Warden is bent and leaning against the wall, one hand pressed to the stone while the other grabs at her knee to keep her small body upright. Morrigan bends beside her, unfamiliar affection and concern in her dark eyes. Alistair rushes to Alia's side after only a moment, while Zevran glances quickly back towards the door they entered through, then across the others in this hallway. No one around to see this, now. It would be dangerous for all of them — especially Alia — if any of the humans at Arl Howe's estate saw one of their supposed guards in this state.

"Lia — Lia, what's going on?" Alistair's voice is a degree too loud and two degrees too frantic, but not half as sick as the worry making a home in Zevran's chest, now that he doesn't have anything to distract. He moves closer, hovering just beside Morrigan, not sure if he should be closer. He feels wrong - footed, ill with concern and the word he avoids thinking, unsure of what kind of closeness is his right. She wears his earring, had asked if it was a proposal, but to love and be loved is so new. He isn't sure how to be useful to her this way, instead of simply killing all who are fool enough to oppose her.

"I — I can't — fuck ——" The Warden gasps, breath shuddering. "I didn't — realize it would b - be so — ba — bad being back in th - this fucking estate."

"Back?" Zevran and Morrigan ask at once. Alia crumples further into the wall, Morrigan barely catching her. Her face is pale, lips nearing purple.

"I can't —— I can't...." Her voice breaks like rotted wood, this pain damp and old; her hyperventilation gives way to quiet, desperate sobs. Practiced, like she knows she's not allowed to cry too loud.

"Alia, what do you mean 'back?'" Alistair presses, and Zevran scowls and pushes past him, closer, gripping Alia carefully around the waist to help her straighten. It doesn't work — having two supporting her, instead of just Morrigan at her elbow, seems to steal her strength, and she goes near - limp in his arms.

Morrigan voices the offense Zevran feels. "Alistair, now more than ever you ought to at least pretend at anything resembling intelligence or tact."

"Hey, what —"

"Both of you, be quiet," Zevran hisses, gently tugging Alia from Morrigan's arms and properly into his. She looks down at nothing, trembling, eyes wide and unseeing. He knows so little of her past, despite how much of his she's seen — she was born in the Alienage, yes; she'd broken into tiny pieces when she realized the Alienage was being purged, nearly vomited into the shitty Denerim alley he'd tugged her into before her horror could draw attention to the hunted Warden. He's seen the simple ring she keeps on a chain under her clothes, tucked against her heart, has not asked what it means or why she grips it so tightly, holds it to her lips when she thinks no one is looking. He'd watched her heart break and her teeth bare when the Spirit asked if she'd failed a stranger called Shianni. Alia has experienced great harm, long before he knew her, long before he could kill the ones who hurt her. He wonders what she has experienced here, and if the person who did it yet lives.

He's keenly aware of the fact that every moment they stay here is a moment a guard or servant might wander into this hallway, might put Alia at yet more risk. "Alia. My dear Warden, look at my face." She shakes her head. "You are strong. You can bear it." She raises her head. Her eyes don't focus, but it's a start. He tries to school his voice gentle. "We need to move to an empty room so the humans don't see you. Do you think you can tell us which is empty?"

Her eyes widen, lips parting to reply; nothing escapes. She has the keenest senses of them for when others are nearby — training or magic or both, he doesn't know. Her eyes close again, brows screwing shut; after a beat, she nods towards one of the doors. Morrigan takes Alia back into her willowy arms as Zevran moves closer, checking only briefly; he trusts Alia, no matter how panicked she may be. Within only a moment, Alia's been guided into the empty storage room. Alistair closes it behind them and stands there, like a guard. Morrigan releases the Warden — hesitantly, Zevran notes — back into Zevran's arms, but hovers close. Alia manages to stay upright this time, even when Zevran's hands find her biceps and slide down to tangle their fingers together.

"Breathe with me?" he says.

He inhales slowly, not breaking eye contact once he has it — she tries to follow the instruction without needing to think about it. Someone has done this with her before, Zevran thinks. A parent, a sibling, a lover. Did someone hold her like this, after whatever suffering was inflicted on her at this place? Her breathing is still stuttering and desperate, too fast, but his breath seems to help. Her hands leave his, raising and clinging clumsily to his body while his resettle on her waist. Morrigan and Alistair watch, saying nothing.

"Are you with me, Alia?" Zevran asks after some time, when she seems calmer. She nods, not seeming sure, her eyes wide but no longer darting.

"I — I'm here. I'm here." Her voice breaks once more, head ducking as the tears start back. "In this fucking place."

None of them ask this time. "You're not alone," Zevran says instead.

She crumples further, but then says, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm — okay. I'm okay." Another ragged inhale. "You're all okay. I can — protect you. Everyone."

Zevran doesn't understand, but he nods anyway. "You're very strong. And so are we all, yes? It would take a great deal more than mere human guards and yet another human despot to harm us."

She actually laughs at that, breathless and guilty, but it's something. The earring glints when she cards her scarred hands through her hair. Zevran feels something shift in him and can't name what.

"I — please help me," she says softly, looking down. Zevran sees Morrigan and Alistair stiffen just barely. She's never asked any of them for help before. "I'll — I'll be strong. I'll keep it together. But I — I'll need help. I hate this place." The shame in her voice is as thick as the desperation. It's strong to ask for this, he thinks, but it must not feel that way. Maker knows he couldn't do it. "I won't — f - fuck up. I promise. Help me and I won't."

"We're all in this together," Alistair says the same time Morrigan says, "We shall."

Alia's eyes raise back to Zevran's, searching, desperate. Tears still run down her cheeks. Something inside him is screaming in a way he doesn't understand. He thinks he might crack at any moment. He says, "Of course, my Warden."

[elfcollector]

lost in dreams

rating: Teen

warnings: Death, killing, unreality

summary: The lie is too sweet to be true, but — Maker, do you wish it could be. Or: the worst dream Tabris has ever had.

You wake in your bed, head heavy and thick — as though it’s filled with cotton and sand.  Your eyes fall closed immediately to offset the nausea.  You shift, trying to sit up while a hand — your hand? — rises to press to your pounding forehead, but familiar palms on your shoulders press you gently back down.

“Rest, my girl,” a man says, voice quiet.  Your eyes slide open and you turn your head to face him, squinting blearily.

“Father...?”

“You’re running quite a fever, and you were tossing in your sleep.  You must have had quite the nightmare.”

A fever feels right.  Your head hurts, and everything is skewed just barely, like the world’s crooked.  “I guess so.  I don’t — remember all of it.  It was awful, though.  I was getting married, I think?”  That couldn’t have been all of it, but your memory feels too foggy to pick out the rest.

Your father laughs.  “That would be such a terrible nightmare for you.”  He pauses at the sound of your front door opening with a creak that’s so familiar it feels almost nostalgic, and gently keeps you down when you attempt to sit up to see who it is.  “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure that this will be better than your dreams.”

Something in you shifts, thoughts sticking at the word dream.  But the person who’d opened the door passes the corner, and abruptly the dream and the nightmare and your fear flee your mind.  She looks like you, because you look like her.  You borrowed your father’s green eyes, but it is her skin and her curling blonde hair and her skill in battle that you wear with such pride.  Your father tries to stop you once more, but you push past his arms and throw yourself at this too - familiar woman, crumpling in her arms when she embraces you.

“Mama!”

She smiles against your hair and the sensation is so familiar that you are sure your ribs will collapse with the weight of it.  Your chest already heaves and shakes with the sobbing and the crying that came so abruptly you’ve no choice but to allow it.

“Shhh.  Don’t cry, baby girl,” she says, voice the same, rough around the edges but loving, so loving.  Her fingers card gently through your hair.  You lift your head to see her face and map her freckles with your darting eyes, remembering each and every one.  “I’m here.  It’s safe.  We’re all safe now.”

“But how — ?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cyrion says from behind you, his hand resting on your shoulder and the other wrapping around the waist of his wife.  “What matters is that we’re together now.  Forever.”

“Doesn’t that sound good, Alia?” Mour mother asks — your mother!  Your mother is alive!  “All three of us.  Soris and Shianni, too.  Just like it was.  Like it always should have been.”

You nod, still crying, vision blurring with your tears.  You press your face against your mother’s collarbone, the relief in your chest so sharp and so unforgiving that you think you’ll collapse.  You thought she’d died!  Thought she’d died to protect you, like you would have died to protect them — to avenge Shianni.

——— Wait.  What happened to Shianni?

“You don’t even have to marry if you don’t want to,” Cyrion continues, the smile in his voice soft and affectionate.  “Your mother talked me out of that one, that’s for certain.”

“But Valendrian ——”

“Can be convinced,” your Mama insists, voice still hushed.  Fuck, you’d missed her voice!  Every time she speaks is like rebuilding a piece of yourself you’d forgotten you’d lost.  “You don’t have to fight any more.  We’ll protect you.”

You stiffen just barely.  Of course you have to fight.  Mama always wanted you to fight.  You have to fight, she always said, so that you can protect them.  If you’d been a better fighter, you could have saved Nola and Nelaros.  Who’s Nelaros?  What happened to Nola?

“Something doesn’t — feel right,” you mutter.  “I — I feel like I’m forgetting something really important.”

“You’ve got a fever, honey, that’s all it is,” your father speaks, but you shake your head and pull away from them even though it makes your mother’s face twist into a look like mourning.  Your head only pounds louder.  

“No, no — I — I was getting married.  It was my wedding day.  And someone — someone hurt us.  Someone — hurt — Shianni.  I…”

Your mother comes closer, takes your hands.  “Don’t you want to be safe, honey?  Don’t you want to rest?”  Rest.  Rest.  Wait.

“I do, but not — this isn’t right.”

“You don’t have to fight any more.”  Her voice is so gentle and you want so much for this to be real.  You want so much for this to be realer than what you left behind.  “Just forget.”

You stiffen and you pull away, hands burning, the fog in your head suddenly clear.

“You’re not my mama.”

“But she could be,” the creature who is not your father offers, making his way to her side. "We do so much for you. Doesn't she deserve to me your mother?"

“My mama,” you start, throat thick with ugly tears once more, “would never ask me to forget what happened.  You’re just — pretending to be her.”  The insult of that — the profanity and the blasphemy — is not enough to make you stop crying with that familiar desperate aching want.

You escape the dream, because you must, and you save the others from their dreams because you must do that, too.  Alistair will ask you later what you saw in your nightmare.  You will not have the strength to tell him of the way your mother looked while she died a second time.

[elfcollector]

Can you tell us about some of your Wardens? The different Hero of Fereldan's are so interesting and I'd love to hear about yours!

(also was/is Johana in a romance with divine Justinia or Leliana as divine?)

i have SO many wardens so i almost don't know where to start! i'll start with alia because i adore her and she's my canon warden so that seems fair!

alia tabris is pretty canon divergent; she's a hedge mage, for one! rather than giving her up to a circle when the magic came, alia's mother insisted on hiding the magic and keeping her in the alienage; not really free, but certainly closer than she'd have been in a circle. very bethany and mage!hawke.

anyway, alia is only nineteen when the game begins, and hasn't really trained her magic much; she keeps it hidden even through the kidnapping up until she finds shianni and vaughn, at which point she's so furious — and also trying to repress her magic so violently — that it slips out and she freezes him, and then shatters him into tiny little pieces. she takes the blame for everything with the hope that that will avoid a purge, and even once she joins the party her sense of her own magic is weird. she ends up finding that, while she learns to be decently proficient with a staff, she prefers channeling magic through her body — there are lots of uses! gather a great deal of force magic in your fist and then release it all at once when you punch something and you can knock down walls with relative ease. launch yourself across the battlefield with a combination of force magic and barrier magic around your legs. channel entropy magic through a dagger in another's gut...the options are limitless!

there's an element of like...how do i put it. for most of my characters, across series, becoming A Hero is a net negative; it inflicts a lot of additional trauma without enough gain to offset it. like, all my hawkes, almost all my inkies ( dove is the exception ), many of my wardens...they hate being The Champion/The Inquisitor/The Warden. but for alia, becoming a warden was the first time she got to eat enough, was free to explore her magic, had real, close bonds — the first time she was really allowed to act as young as she is. she seems very childish at times because this is the first time she's been allowed to be a child. not that there's no pain associated with becoming The Warden, but it brought her more good than harm. she's happy to be the warden, for all she might wince from being called a hero.

that being said, while she's great at leading a small group, she finds that she struggles immensely at being warden commander — she doesn't feel like she's good at it. and while she's not as bad as she THINKS she is, the fact remains that she's not great, either. origins is a lot of positive character development for her, but all the dlc she mostly undergoes negative development due to feeling like she just. keeps. failing others. this motivates her fleeing the wardens a little earlier than most of my other wardens, do — that and a desire to see zevran again, of course.

as for johana — she's leliana's beloved! she remains with leliana even once leli becomes divine victoria; spends a lot of time being annoying about how her "naughty priest" fantasies are all coming true. they never actually officially marry ( there's just so rarely time ) but at some point they just took to calling each other wife/my wife/etc and it stuck.

leliana is such a revelation for jo; she experienced a lot of comments from her family and others about being attracted to women, and her parents desperately trying to hook her up with a man takes on a particularly gross energy when johana is an out and out lesbian, and given how misogynistic howe is i can't imagine he didn't have opinions on the warrior woman also being gay. she's internalized that while few people will outright disallow her from loving women, that there is something inherently less holy / Right about attraction to women. not that this results in any hiding; jo leans hard into being The Problem Child, enjoys the relative freedom that comes with, and decides that if attraction to women is wrong then she'll just Be Wrong and not try to "fix" herself. but still, it's hard to carry that. and here comes leliana, bi supreme, who is at once the most holy woman she knows and who is also flirting with her and outright about being attracted to women.

it blows johana's mind, and leliana and johana's frankly bonkers devotion and loyalty towards her drives a lot of johana's actions. she makes a lot of Good Moral Choices ( as opposed to utilitarian morally questionable ones ) because leliana's there to remind her that she's capable of being merciful and moral and kind.

killing howe sort of breaks her brain, though, the catharsis is so intense ( she even promises to do things to his family that will make what he did to hers look like a mercy; she doesn't go through with it, but only because the companions don't let her ). and that's followed by very bad torture drakon; and she undergoes very rapid negative development about it all. gets bloodthirsty. she clears out ALL OF DRAKON ( including non - combatants like the sister in the chapel ) on her own, literally seeking out fights she didn't have to face, despite having no real reason to because she's desperate to take her power back, to feel powerful, TO HURT THE ONES THAT HURT HER. who hurt ser gilmore and mother mallol, poor fuckers... after that, she gets more erratic, more likely to kill everybody and quicker to violence, especially with anyone connected to howe or loghain. it's leliana ( and zevran, her bestie ) who soothe and help her re - regulate and re - center. by awakening, she's at least settled enough that she doesn't outright kill nathaniel, but it's a close thing.