Chapter Text
9:34 Dragon
Sundermount didn’t often have bleeding unconscious elves appearing on its summit, but that is what Anders found that night while looking for healing herbs. Anders was crouched down underneath a tree, examining the leaves of the elfroot plant. His elfroot stores were always running low, so long ago he had made going to Sundermount a routine weekly trip. As he examined the plant further, his ears were struck by a loud, sudden sound. Anders quickly dropped the elfroot, and took out his staff. Magic buzzed under his skin, ready to heed his call. When nothing happened, Anders cautiously made his way toward where the sound came from. Before he saw where it came from, he could smell it, blood. “And lots of it,” The healer thought. Then he saw her, a woman. She was covered in blood, and from the look of it, gravely injured. His healer’s instincts kicking in, he ran toward her, his mana being called forth yet again. This time, not to kill, but to save. Ander’s mana, a cool, soft blue, searched her body for injury. There! She had three deep gashes, on her throat, and both of her wrists. With a lot of effort, skill, and not a small amount of time, he had healed her enough that the wounds were closed, but scarred. With a sigh, he took the time to examine this strange woman. She was of a tall, somewhat muscular frame, and looked like she had been fed well her entire life. She couldn’t have been older than 22. Upon closer inspection, she wasn’t a human at all, but an elf. “That’s strange, elves aren’t usually this tall,” Anders thought. She was wearing a nightgown, it was pretty, but was almost entirely soaked with blood. The woman shivered, and that brought him back to himself. It was pretty cold up here on Sundermount, so Anders took off his cloak and wrapped it around the shivering woman. “Now if only Hawke was here to help me carry her…” Anders thought, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “No use complaining Anders. You’ve come this far, now see it through,” Justice seemed to say.
It was a bit of a struggle to carry that mysterious woman down the mountain, back into Kirkwall and into his clinic without being seen by the city guard or some other unsavory folk. As she lay on a cot in his run-down Clinic, she barely stirred. “ She won’t wake up for another few days, I’ll wager,” and so then Anders got to work on his other patients. After a few hours, it seemed that she was stable enough to be left alone, and there was a lull in patients that needed his care, so he decided to pay Varric Tethras a visit.
“So! Hawke and I were fighting these enormous dragons down in the Bone Pit when one came down and–!” Varric was telling one of his famous stories to a small crowd in his room in the Hanged Man when Anders came to visit. “Ah! There’s Blondie! All right everyone, we’ll finish this one later,” With small noises of disappointment the crowd dispersed. Anders and Varric were alone now. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you this fine evening, Blondie?” Varric smiled roguishly as he poured them drinks. “Well I was hoping you could help me with something, or rather someone .” If Varric was surprised by this, he didn’t show it. “You know I’m always happy to help. Now who is this someone?” Varric asked as he handed him his drink. Anders took a sip of it and made a face. The ale tasted like piss. “I have no clue, I found her while I was looking for herbs on Sundermount. She was really wounded. I was wondering if you could find out who she is.” Varric looked thoughtful, and rubbed his stubble. “What does she look like?” the dwarf asked. He told the Dwarf what she looked like. Varric looked more lost in thought when he said, “Let me ask my contacts, I’ll get back to you soon. How about a game of cards in the meantime?” Anders shook his head. “As much as I’d love to lose some gold tonight, I really should get back to my Clinic.” Varric looked a bit worried for Anders, but then smiled and waved his hands as if to shoo him away. “Just be safe, Blondie,” Anders gave a weak smile. “I will.”
At first all I could see was red . Hot, bubbling, pouring out of me. Cold air stinging my skin like needles. The conflicting pain stayed for a while, I’m not sure how long. Then there was a sense of calm, peace . It washed over me like waves, strong and steady. I was caught in the tide for a while, feeling acutely like this is where I belonged. The rest of the world could go on without me for a little while. I could’ve been here for days or hours. I happily stayed until I heard muffled sounds, cutting through the sea of consciousness. The noises, which I now recognized as voices, were ever-present. Suddenly this world of consciousness felt like a home no longer as it felt like I was drowning, my breathing shallow. I knew then that I was dreaming, and I needed to wake up .
I opened my eyes. I was in a place full of bustling people. Some were injured, sick or dying, others were not. The person that caught my eye the most was the one who was sitting next to me. I sat up quickly, wanting to take it all in. He was short, stocky, and had blonde hair tied up out of his face and a crooked nose. He was wearing a shirt that had a plunging neckline, exposing his hairy chest, and a well-tailored leather jacket. He noticed my sudden movement immeadiately. “Hey, kid, why don’t you slow down? You were pretty badly hurt,” I tried to speak, but there was a dry,cracked pain in my throat, and all that came out was a pained croak. The man was patient and sympathetic, and handed me a cup of water. I drank it greedily. Perhaps too greedily, as I started to have a coughing fit. Hubris will be the death of me. The short man looked a little concerned now, and called out for help from someone named “Blondie!”
Another man approached quickly. He was above average height, with pale blonde hair tied back, and a bladed staff strapped to his back, He was pretty, too. He soothed my coughing fit, rubbing my back in small circles. Blondie gave me more water, and made sure I didn't drink it too fast this time. Having a hard time looking at those painfully intense eyes, my eyes settled on his nose. “Thank you.” I said softly.
Blondie sat down next to the short man. He started to speak. “You were really injured.I want to make sure your mind is working and not damaged after the loss of blood. Is it okay if I ask a few questions?” I nodded slowly. “Here’s an easy one, what’s your name?” Blank. In my mind, the space that was supposed to hold my name was blank. I knew I had one, I just couldn’t remember what it was. “Uhm, I don't remember…” Blondie had a crease between his eyebrows, and he looked to the other man with concern. I fidgeted, suddenly feeling like I failed an important test.The other man picked up the thread of the conversation. “That’s alright, kid. How about another question?” I nodded slowly, despite the growing feeling of unease in my gut. The short man practically radiated kindness and patience. “Do you remember how you ended up on Sundermount?” I tilted my head, not quite understanding. “The creepy mountain that’s haunted with elven spirits,” Blondie supplied. I shook my head. “That doesn’t ring a bell, either.” I was quickly growing frustrated at the blank-space that, no matter what I did to shift or remove it to reveal the missing memories, stood, unwaveringly, frustratingly still.
My face and hands were growing hotter by the second. The short man pressed on, “Do you have any family? Friends, maybe–Ah!” The short man jumped off his seat as my blanket was set aflame. Blondie swiftly put it out with a burst of cold. “ Shit ,” was all the dwarven man could say. The look on Blondie’s face was unreadable. My hands trembled. “I’m so sorry. I don't know why that happened, I–” I felt so guilty. What the fuck even happened,anway? How did fire shoot out of my hands?! My thoughts spiraled for a few moments before I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Blondie. He gave me a reassuring smile, seeming to know exactly what I was going through. “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Magic is a gift. I’ll do whatever I can to protect you from those blighted templars.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Templars? What are they, are they something I should worry about?” A dark look passed over Blondie’s face, the air around him seeming to shift a little. The short dwarven man seemed eager to change the subject. “Hey Kid, we can’t keep calling you “Bloody elven girl” every time we talk to you, and I have no idea what names you came up with for us in that pretty little head of yours. How about we introduce ourselves to you, and then we can come up with a name to call ya. Do we have a deal?” I looked at Blondie briefly, and he nodded. I agreed as well.
“I’ll go first. My name is Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller, and occasionally a nursemaid for dysfunctional adults.” Varric winked at me with a shameless grin. I laughed with a little snort. Anders smiled at this. “My name is Anders, though I don't have any fancy titles besides the nickname so graciously given to me by Varric. I’m a mage, like you.” I smiled brightly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Varric and Anders.”
Then it came time to give myself a name. Varric and Anders playfully suggested a few, argued over a few others. I was deep in thought, and felt an echo of recognition for one name. “Quinn.” The two men looked at her. “What’s that, kid?” Varric said, a little confused. “That’s what you can call me. At least until I find a proper name.” Anders smiled. “Quinn it is.”