Voices from Heaven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thespaceopera) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am
thespaceopera) wrote in driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am
Entry tags:
Sweet dreams are made of these...
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Re: Fenris
She tries a few doors and they don't seem to lead anywhere. So finally she gives in and heads up the stairs. There she enters the main room. A lot catches her eye but it's the little red headed doll that catches her eye more than anything else.
She makes her way over to pick it up from the floor, unsure of what to expect. Her heart wrenches at the sight of it and she can't say exactly why.]
no subject
At first there are just flickers. Shadows of memories, half formed, half found. A laugh, a flash of red hair, feet running on cobblestones. There is a happiness to them, which makes the all consuming feeling of betrayal all the worst when the scene changes once more.
The red headed elf is pressed against a wall, bodies surround her (one looks a little like the doll the wolf has been chewing). She looks terrified, but the main emotion felt from the person who's memory this is is anger. Betrayal, anger, shattered hopes. They all accumulate into a perfect storm.
"I had no choice, Leto," she has her hands up, trying to defend herself from the same fate as those around her.
You voice comes out like the snarl of an animal that's been trapped.
"Stop calling me that!"
She lowers her head, continues speaking.
"He was going to make me his apprentice. I would have been a magister."
"You sold out your own brother to become a magister?"
The anger in you is welling, you would have gone back to THAT life, the one you ran away from, the one you'd escaped from for so long. Your own flesh and blood, just...throwing you back into that.
"Your sister's a mage?" this is from a dirty-blonde haired man, and his voice brings a fresh new wave of hatred to you, Anders can go fuck himself. "You bloody hypocrite. You really are just jealous."
"You have no idea what we went through," the red haired elf speaks again."What I've had to do since mother died. This was my only chance."
"And now you have no chance at all," you reply.
Your skin begins to glow, the lyrium sings its song, you're ready to end her life.
"Please...don't do this," she turns to a bearded man standing nearby. "Please, tell him to stop!"
"Wait, don't kill her," says the man.
"Why not?" you turn, angry at the man, how DARE he butt in now? "She was ready to see me killed! What is she to me other than just one more tool of the magisters?"
"Your sister's as much a victim as you were," he replied.
A dwarf steps forward. Varric. You would always, endlessly listen to Varric.
"Elf...Fenris. I know how hard this is to believe, but this is the last thing you want to do. "
You hesitate, your fingers twitch, and the lyrium dies. He glare at the woman that was your sister, feel the pull again of lost opportunity, the chance to reclaim something of your shattered, broken life.
"Get out."
She runs, then turns to say something, but the memory is already fading.
[And once again they are in the room. The wolf has got up from his seat and is growling agitatedly. ]
no subject
She would rip apart anyone who tried to take her back into her old life. And people will try -- that much she knows.
She looks over at the wolf, the snarling, angry thing.]
Was I not supposed to touch that? [Her tone is dry. She doesn't care what an animal thinks.]
no subject