“harsh whisper” for the DADWC?
@dadrunkwriting
I apologize if I went a bit off prompt here i got carried away once i got the idea xD
Characters: Keeper Zathrian, Icara, Methra
Pairing: None
Setting: 8:97 Blessed,
Word count:1049
~~
Methra’s heart raced as her mother knocked on the door of a large landship structure. Aravels. She remembered them being called from her mother’s stories. The pair of elves frantically looked side to side in the pitch black of night, her bright green eyes scanning every corner, her pointed ears listening for any sound of movement nearby as she held her hands close to her chest. The silence was deafening as her mind repeated the screams of the men who saw her. “Come on, please open up.” her mother mumbled; the blood on her hands drying in the cool crisp air as her sapphire eyes glistened with worry. Her mother let out a gasp as the doorknob turned slowly and the door cracked ajar.
A tall bald elf peered his head into the space of the door, looking at the pair of the elves before opening it further. “Icara? You’re alive? What are you doing here?” the man asked in a hushed whisper. This man knew mother? Who was he? Methra looked at the man’s face, most of it covered in tattoos that were symmetrical. She admittedly thought the design looked somewhat like an open book on his forehead.
“You promised me a favor for the knowledge I gave to you. Now I need you to help me..” The blue-eyed elf whispered, “But we can’t talk out in the open. Can we please come in?” Methra’s heart throbbed as she glanced back at the alley they had come from. quickly rushing her daughter into the room before checking once more outside. The guards would make their patrols soon. Once they discovered the body, they wouldn’t be able to move again until morning. Methra noted that the inside of the Aravel appeared to be much larger than it was looking at it from the outside. It could easily accommodate the three elves.
“Icara. What happened? We haven’t heard from you in fourteen years. Who is this girl?”
“My daughter. Where’s Garis? I haven’t seen him in all of Arlathvhen. I was hoping to- ”
“He’s left the clan. He wanted to find you but obviously couldn’t.”
“Mother, who is this man?.” Methra asked, looking up at her mother, tears forming in her eyes as she held her own arms.
“It’s ok, he’s . . . an old friend of mine. But he can help you.”
“Icara, who is-” Zarthrian began.
“No time to explain. Keep your voice down.” her lowered voice grew harsh as the sound of boots passed by the door.
“Notify the captain!” A voice called out from the direction which they had been running from. “Get the Bloody templars at once!” Methra’s heart beat in her throat now. The body had been found and soon if they weren’t lucky, they would be as well. “Drag any knife-ear that’s outside to the chantry immediately! We’ve got an apostate to catch!”
The bald elf looked towards the frightened teenager, a realization appearing on his face.
“Hey, it’s okay,”
“Zathrian, this is Methra. Gairs’ daughter.”
“So the rumors were true then. But why . . .” He looked closer at the girl’s hands. How the tree-like scars had already formed. “of course.” He eased closer to the young girl. “May I take a look at them? I think I can help.” He spoke calmly. Methra swallowed the lump in her throat, trembling in place as she tried to quiet her sobs and keep the tears from flowing out of her eyes.
“It’s okay. Deep breathes, Methra. Close your eyes and take deep breaths. You can let him help.” Icara explained. “The more scared you are, the more lightning you’ll unleash.” Methra froze for a moment, her eyes locked onto the bald elf’s as she began to take deep breaths.
“O-okay.” She whimpered softly, still staring at her hands.
“Can you tell me exactly what happened?” Zathrian asked, allowing healing magic to ease the pain of Methra’s burn scars before returning to a seat on the other end of the Aravel.
“I . . . we were walking home from the palace when some shemlen approached us.” Methra began, “Mother told me to run back to the house and when I did . . .” She closed her eyes tightly and clenched her hands together as she felt a surge of energy when she recalled what had happened. She saw purple sparks flying from the palms of her hands. “It’s happening again! What should I do?! I’m scared!” she cried, just then she noticed the sparks and arches of lightning begin to dissipate as Zathrian reached for his own staff and waved his hand in the air.
“Okay, I think I have the idea. We will not speak of this while we are still in the city as it clearly is far too soon and we can not risk you being discovered by the guards and templars.”
“Can you please teach her? I don’t have anyone else to turn to.” Icara requested, folding her arms.
“Yes. Our clan doesn’t have many resources to spare,” Zathrian sighed, “but I will not turn away an elf in need, especially if they have the gift of magic. We will return to the Brecillian forest when Arlathvhen ends tomorrow, she will ride with one of the other apprentices . . . until then the both of you are welcome to stay here.” He took a deep breath, rubbing his temple before looking to Icara. “I assume you will be returning as well? The clan would welcome you back.”
“Zathrian, you know as well as I do that I can’t return with you. I’m sorry I just . . . I don’t belong with the Dalish.”
“Mother, I’m not leaving without-” Methra began to speak up. Was mother really sending her off with these Dalish?
“Methra, you need to.” Icara cut her daughter off with a harsh whisper, as though worried about being overheard. “If those men find you, you’ll be taken away from me forever. And that will kill me as surely as the guards will.” She looked at Methra, a sad smile on her face. “Your stubborn just like I was when I was around your age, but please understand. I am only doing this to protect you.”
“Will I ever see you again?” She asked, her eyes growing wide. Icara didn’t answer at first, refusing to look her daughter in the eyes.
