Fanfiction Madness Continues…

Origins-WardenShieldYou may be wondering, “Why are you wasting your time with fanfiction writing?” And I would respond with a blank stare, before I started stumbling around for a way to make you understand.  People who are “fans” of something, and I mean devoted fans, get it right away, for others it takes a little more persuading.  Plus, I’m hoping the creators of the Dragon Age series will find me and offer me a job.  😉

Until a couple of years ago, I had no idea what fanfiction was.  Surprising, right?!  I had written an episode of the TV show Alias in college, but that was to build up my portfolio and to learn to emulate an existing voice, I never thought of it as fan fiction, although that is exactly what it was.  I was taking characters someone else had created and I wrote my own story.  I’ve been planning on writing a post on fandom, and this sort of ties into it, because there is no telling what will strike a chord in you.

Dragon Age to me is what Star Wars is to The Sis.  I’ll expand more on this in the other post.  As a fantasy enthusiast in a first person game, it’s easy to get swept up into the adventure and romance.  Not all my friends like fantasy and sci-fi so they may not understand, but how does one not want to be chosen to save the world, wield magic, create unlikely alliances, and find romance with a powerful witch or a sassy assassin or a sweet warrior?!  Well, I guess non-fantasy people.

Anyway…the other side of this coin is that as a writer, you have a fully flushed out world with fully realized characters, and there’s no pressure, it’s just fun to explore.  I love to write, it’s what I want to do, but as writers we place so much pressure on ourselves to get it “right” that we often lose the spark, especially when we’re still considered novices.  We don’t have anyone waiting for our next great piece, we don’t have fans coming to us in droves wondering what happens next…((pouts))

I’ve been doing a lot of this fanfic writing while at my serving job, because I often have long spaces of time with nothing to do.  I can come and go in this story without feeling any loss of momentum, or having to get in the right frame of mind, and at least I’m writing something – and I really like it.  To think about characters I have come to know in situations not previously explored is just fun.  Which brings me to my next installment in the Dragon Age story.  I hope you like it.  If you want to see where the madness began, with a writing prompt image, click here.

RedcliffeVillage

Redcliffe Village

The village of Redcliffe was famous for its hilltop windmill, and after hearing about it for years from the Templars who traveled Ferelden in search of what they considered uncontrolled magic; I was excited to finally see the twirling sails for myself. What I was not excited about was the eerie silence of the village that followed. As a Circle mage, my life was limited to the walls of the tower; silence was my old friend. Approaching a place that should be bustling with life, only to find it quiet, was to put it mildly, unsettling – as was the conversation with Alistair before we moved any further.

He asked to speak to me alone for which I received some knowing looks from the rest of the party who continued forward, allowing us some privacy. I was immediately tense. I found it easy to continue to maintain my distance from Alistair while on our journey, and although done purposefully, I hadn’t thought he had noticed. The events in the cave, the magnitude of what lay ahead of us, in addition to my irrational thoughts about a nonexistent relationship weighed heavily upon me, and I felt it best to recapture my level-headedness, through distance.

The Circle, although full of people, allowed each of us a great amount of time to find solitude, especially as we grew older. As children, there were always elders to watch over us, but even as a child I remember keeping my distance from the others; the bitter taste of betrayal from my family lingered for some time. Being sent to a strange place, to be treated like a dangerous object, to never be free…I didn’t know that was what lay in store for me when the Templars came for me, but my parents had.

But I digress. I know I had grown quiet since leaving the Brecilian Forest, but it was a habit, a coping mechanism, or whatever you want to call it, because retreating to the safety of my own mind was where I found comfort. I had not intended it to be alienating, especially to my companions, and I said as much when Alistair asked if I was all right.

I was also troubled by how the world suffered. Being locked away, sheltered, I only had the smallest of insights into what everyone else had to deal with on a regular basis. So far, each time we traveled somewhere new there was a new threat. The darkspawn were a recent development, but villagers had to deal with civil war and in-fighting, dragon attacks, bad crops, bandits, and so much more while trying to raise a family and just live their lives. The Dalish had been dealing with werewolves and were continually on the move due to a variety of fears and threats.

The mages only had the Templars to worry about, and the constant fear of possession, and the threat of tranquility – our world was contained, limited. So much more could happen on the outside, and I found it oddly thrilling. When Duncan recruited me, I had no idea what he was truly offering me…I’m not sure if he knew either, but what he had done was open the world to me…and then there was Alistair.

Not only did he want to talk about me and my well being since the cave, he bombarded me with news so surprising I was left literally speechless. As if our challenges weren’t already great, he shared with me that he was the bastard half-brother of the late king, making him the last in the Theirin bloodline.

I can only imagine the look I had upon my face, because he had to stifle a laugh. He shifted uncomfortably under my scrutiny as I tried to make sense of what this meant. Not only did this completely change him in my eyes, it affected our entire mission. Maker’s Breath! He could be the next king and he was wandering the countryside, killing darkspawn…I wondered if Loghain knew, which of course he did. As Maric’s former friend and advisor, I was sure he was privy to any number of the old king’s secrets.

Alistair assured me that this changed nothing, that he was devoted to our cause and the Grey Wardens, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something so much bigger. The Arl of Redcliffe would know what to do. Our only hope was that he had recovered from whatever strange illness he had contracted.

I joked with Alistair about being a prince and the look of horror that dawned was one of the funniest things I had ever witnessed.

And then it happened– closure, or what I hoped it would become. His confession was what I needed to regain that perspective I was so in need of, and I got it (although I soon discovered it was to be short lived). The decision had been made for me, and for a moment my heart ached at the loss. I swallowed hard, and with it, the intention of burying my growing feelings. I suppose Morrigan’s suggestion offered us at least a chance at something, a connection, but it rang hollow now. It always had.

There would be many who would want to utilize this information to their own benefit, even if he chose to remain a Warden, his name would always hold sway, and should he become king, I was a mage. He could also be considered a threat to those political factions vying for the throne for their own purposes, and a target for anyone wishing to exploit such a connection. We would have to do what we could to conceal this knowledge.

I stared at him for a moment, longer than I intended, as I tried to wrap my head around the idea of him becoming king. He was a strong and brave warrior, but there was a vulnerability about him, something Morrigan disliked in him, which of course I found endearing. He would need to be protected, and although I disliked the idea of telling all our companions, we had to watch over him. He could not be allowed to charge into the fray, or take unnecessary risk, although I would never tell him that.

We had speculated that we were probably the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden, but now knowing that he was also the last in a royal line…and I thought we had problems before.

~

This post got really long, so if you’d like to read the rest of the chapter, you can find it here.

Have a great weekend!

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