Chapter Text
The weeks flew by in a blur of routine. Every morning I woke up at the changing of the templars by my door. I estimated the change happened roughly around 5 a.m. because the stones did not brighten until much later. Until the room lit up, I did various exercises. I had inspected this new body thoroughly, trying to establish a baseline of my abilities. The grace that was supposed to come with being elven must have skipped me - I was as much of a klutz as I was in my world. I soon realized however, that Lavellan had as much hatred towards other races as she was given. This had created a very isolated environment for her, and it looked like the only friendly interaction she had been given was from Evelyn. A result of that was that at some point I believe Lavellan had been starving herself. Even from what I remembered of elven culture, this body was almost anorexic in stature. I took it upon myself to eat more and to strengthen and build muscle. It was her body, but now I had to make it my own. Using my rough time-keeping skills, I estimated I did about two hours of physical activity every morning. Afterwards I would go to the mess hall, eat my bodyweight in food, and then head to the library. Unfortunately, we were only allowed one shower a day, so my stinky ass sat in those lounge chairs and reveled in everyone’s avoidance. I read and took notes on everything I could get my hands on. I loved learning new things as it was, and now I was set upon a world where I knew only marginal details. I devoured everything. I had to request more journals from the stockroom within the first week in order to keep up. Lunchtime would come around, I would devour the food just as fast as I did the books. After lunch I focused on practicing my magic. I used the principle of “magic is a muscle” and assumed that the more I used it and pushed the limits of my mana pool, the stronger my spells would become and the longer I could use them. It wasn’t like my physical muscles, where after the third week I could tell the difference in my endurance, but I did believe that it was accomplishing the same thing at a much slower rate.
In those weeks, I never received a reply from Orzammar. I had to assume Dranal wouldn’t leave me high and dry and just throw away my letter. As the time for the next lyrium shipment drew closer, I begun to get slightly nervous. I had not thought out a backup plan if this didn’t go through. I was going to use Dagna and her research to give myself some credibility in the merchant world, to hopefully have enough sway to get the attention of one of the Hands of the Divine. If she didn’t come, then I would have to figure another way out, which would cost me more precious time. As it happens, I needn’t have worried.
The day of the shipment came, and I eagerly met the templars by the door to the tower, ready to get a move on. The doors were opened, and we walked to meet Dranal and his workers. We were heralded by his ever-present insults and yelling, and I heard the templars’ murmurs of dissent. I scanned everyone I saw, hoping to find a female dwarf somewhere. I approached Dranal as he hollered at some skinny human lad that had dropped a crate.
“You air-headed buffoon! You break that, and I’ll have yer head!”
“Well good-morning to you too, nug-humper.” I smiled congenially, hoping my casual approach worked.
“Who the-oh, it’s the soddin’ elf.” He whirled around at the insult but relaxed slightly when he recognized me. “I delivered yer damn letter. You owe me a couple favors, her father ‘bout took my damn head off.”
“Thank you, ser Bemot. Did you have the contracts written up?”
“Aye, here. The girl already signed her portion, didn’t even read the thing.” I took the stack of papers from him as he muttered about “bad practice” and “her dad oughta taught her better”. I briefly tried to read it, but the language, even in Common, was too complicated and repetitive for me to read in one sitting. I merely took the quill he held out and signed in the blank spots. He eyed me derisively, likely thinking the same things he was about Dagna. I handed them back to him with a smile and he just scoffed at me.
“I expect to hear from yeh the next time I make a delivery.”
“Of course, I’m sure we can come up with something by then. Where is she at?” I asked, scanning again and only seeing his workers. He pointed behind me, and I followed the direction of his finger. There, in all her short glory, was the would-be brilliant arcanist poking the templars’ armor and rattling off question after question without stopping for answers. The templars’ were obviously very agitated and wanted her to go away, but she ignored all social cues that did not answer her questions. I started chuckling, said farewells to Dranal, and headed in her direction. As I approached, I noticed the clenched fists of the templar she was currently interrogating and hastened my steps. I definitely did not want her to cause a scene before I even got her inside.
“But do you really know how much to take? What if you overdose? What happens if you stop? Have you ever touched it? How is it distilled? Do you ever think—”
“Okay I think we should head on inside.” I grab her shoulders firmly and steer her towards the door and gently push her through. Once inside she turns to me, her dark red hair still in its’ two pigtails. The top of her head barely reaches my bicep, and I have to tilt my head down to look her in the eye.
“Oooh an elf! I heard that your people have different kinds of magic to what is studied in the Circle! Has that affected how you have learned? Can you—”
“Hang on!” I chuckled. Her enthusiasm was invigorating. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Andrea Lavellan, Andy to my friends. I am the one who sent you the letter.”
“Yes! I’m Dagna, oh but you already knew that. I’m sorry I’m just so excited to finally learn and—”
I raised my eyebrow and smiled at her, and she laughed nervously and blushed.
“I am glad you are excited. It’s almost time for lunch, let’s get you settled in and then we can eat and discuss some things.” She smiled and nodded, and I led her up to my room.
“You can put your things in that trunk over there, I don’t use it. These books are all particular favorites of mine, but you don’t have to start here. The library is open until the evening, when the lights dim. No one is allowed to roam the halls after curfew, and we only shower in the evening.”
“Uhm, where am I supposed to sleep?” she asked, a confused look on her face. I opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it. I frowned. Fuck. I had completely forgotten to request a cot or something for her to sleep on.
“Uh…..you can sleep in my bed. I usually fall asleep at the desk anyway.” I made a mental note to ask for a cot or couch or something. I heard an extremely feminine giggle, which grew into a full-bellied laugh. She was laughing at me. Like, slap-your-knee, can’t stand, type of laugh. As if it was contagious, I started giggling and laughing soon after. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe and had to sit on the floor. Dagna had tears streaming from her eyes and was holding onto the edge of my bed to stay standing. We must have made such a commotion that we were heard outside, because next thing I knew Evelyn had poked her head inside to see what was going on.
“What are you doing in here? It sounds like some old hags got too wine-drunk and are making fun of people.” At that, Dagna and I looked at each other, and a new round of giggles and laughter commenced. Evelyn entered the room fully and put her hands on her hips in a slightly accusatory manner. There was a smile on her lips however, softening her posture.
I finally got control of myself, and shakily stood to my feet.
“I honestly don’t know. Dagna just started laughing at me, and it was contagious.”
“Like feet fungus!” Dagna piped in, starting another round of giggles from her. I smiled and looked back to Evelyn, hoping that I could repair a partial inch of friendship.
“Would you like to eat lunch with us?” I asked.
She frowned for a moment, and I feared she would say no. She must have come to a conclusion in her head however and nodded. I grinned and beckoned the still giggling dwarf to follow us.
As we headed to the mess hall, many eyes were on us, and Dagna asked Evelyn a bunch of questions. She seemed to never stop talking. The idle chatter was a nice cover to me subtly attempting to check on Evelyn. She had dark circles under her eyes, and there were new frown lines. I sighed, realizing the lack of interaction probably hurt her more than it was me. I was used to being alone, hell I had been alone for years in my world. Isolation was my friend. She didn’t seem to be as introverted as I was. I knew, for Lavellan’s sake, that I had to repair this relationship. A sense of urgency hit me as I realized this, and I remembered the vision I had had before. I concluded that if Evelyn did not become the Herald, then she did not survive the mage rebellion or the Conclave.
We sat down and began to eat, ignoring all of the prying eyes watching us. Dagna kept the conversation light and easy, not allowing silence to enter, not even as she ate. I knew if it did it would be awkward and was glad for the chatter. I noticed almost immediately when she stopped and looked up. Standing behind her was Senior Enchanter Lydia, with her fancy robes and regal air, one hand on Dagna’s shoulder and a severe disapproving look on her face as she studied the dwarf.
“I don’t remember inviting anyone to the Circle my dear. Would you mind telling me the reason for this impromptu visit?” I could see her grip tightening on the poor girl’s shoulder, and immediately I stepped in.
“I invited her, Enchanter. She was rejected the chance to study at the Fereldan Circle and took it upon myself to invite her here. I figured we would be hospitable, and it could possibly improve our relations with Orzammar, given that her family is a very prominent smithing family.” I had stood as I talked, not letting her lord over me since I was sitting. My short stature did not improve the distance much, but the point was made. She squinted her eyes, studying me. I fought to keep my hands from shaking, because I knew this woman had the power to transfer me to other towers and ruin my plans before they even began.
“Initiative is appreciated, but be careful you don’t overstep yourself, elf.” She hurled the word like an insult, but I didn’t let it affect me. I couldn’t change my race any more than she could. She patted Dagna’s shoulder, and then walked away. All three of us sighed in relief and I plopped back down into my chair.
“Who was that?” Dagna asked, returning to munching in her roll.
“Senior Enchanter Lydia,” Evelyn replied. “She basically rules the mages in the tower. She definitely is racist and hates the fact that Andy even passed her Harrowing.”
“Really?” I asked. I thought she was rude like that normally, but now it made sense.
Evelyn glanced in my direction. “Yes, she used to make Andy—” she stopped herself and coughed to cover up her blunder. “You cry every time she entered the room.” She quickly sipped her water to busy herself.
I decided now was the time to pitch my idea, in effort of repairing what I had ruined my first day. “Evelyn, would you mind teaching me more healing? I’ve tried to do it from the books, but it is eluding me.” I frowned, thinking on my past attempts at healing my own migraines. Apparently, it was a particularly difficult skill for Lavellan as well.
She smirked. “I thought you would never ask.” She said.
We finished our lunch quickly, and then returned to my rooms. Dagna took it upon herself to grab one of her journals from her bag and the nearest book she could grab off the shelf. She sat against the headboard and began reading. Occasionally, she would ask a question about something she read, and either Evelyn or I would answer. Evelyn began teaching me the different incantations for spirit healing, and the different practices. She also had me memorize the ingredients in a proper healing potion, which was more than just elfroot. The days and weeks flew by like this, and eventually I had taught Evelyn more powerful primal spells, and we had ventured into illusion magic together. Dagna and I focused on enchantments of books and paper, attempting to achieve the enchantment I had first looked for.
In our research, as such happens with most experiments, we stumbled upon the elven enchantments of increasing the strength of the veil. Tweaking them subtly, we managed to make a pair of cuffs that completely severed one’s connection to the veil. It took me hours to recover the first time we tested them. By the time Dranal came back around, we had managed to make them in varying degrees. We waited for him with a sense of pride and accomplishment, that not even his constant sour mood could affect.
“I’m gonna guess those smiles mean money?” he said, with his gruff tone.
“Yes! However, was there a clause in that contract of yours that determines which merchants we use?” I asked, hoping to appear innocent. He eyeballed me, and then grudgingly answered.
“No, I figured you had an idea?” I smiled in victory.
“Yep. Varric Tethras. He’s a merchant based out of Kirkwall.”
He sighed heavily. “You want me to use the most hated merchant in the Guild to move your merchandise?”
“Yes. Also, I want you to employ a dwarf by the name of Sandal Feddic in Kirkwall to help fill the orders that serah Tethras gets.” Dagna was looking at me curiously but held silent for once. Dranal studied us for a few seconds, and then nodded. “You got the plans?”
Dagna handed over the blueprints for the enchantment, and he shook his head, but walked away. Dagna and I giggled and high-fived each other, and then rushed back inside to start on our next project.
A couple weeks later while we were in the library researching coding, I received a letter with an unfamiliar seal. A young templar-recruit handed it to me shyly and scurried as fast as he could in plate armor. I smiled after him, thinking he would have been cute if I didn’t know he had powers and orders that could kill me at a moments’ notice.
Dagna, nosy as ever, snatched the letter from me before I could even open it.
“Hey! That wasn’t for you!” I chased her around the library, disturbing everyone with our activity and her notorious giggling. Everyone in the tower now knew her voice and had been bombarded at some point by her curious mind. All except for the Senior Enchanter. That was the only time she was ever silent, and she had confided in me once that Lydia scared her worse than her father ever did. I continued chasing Dagna through the halls, and we ended up in Evelyn’s quarters, where Dagna pounced atop her while she was reading in her bed. I whipped around the corner and burst into the room, red-faced, breathing heavily, and my hair all askew from its’ ponytail.
“Oy you boot-licker! Give that back!” I hopped into the pile of limbs and began tickling whoever and wherever I could. Both of them were severely ticklish, a trait I thankfully did not inherit in this body. Once we had all calmed down, Dagna opened the letter and began to read.
Serah Lavellan,
I do not know how managed to get a Bemot to have a business relation with me, but it is quite a feat. I am curious how you heard of me. Many try to avoid even talking about me. The enchanting blueprints you sent me check out, and Dranal tells me you have specific instructions on who should be creating these enchantments? Curious, but I will respect your wishes. At some point you must come out to see me, and we can discuss business face-to-face. I do not conduct business with unknowns, but what you have shown me is very reassuring. You must tell me who this smith is that you have, her signature is not known to me.
Do keep in contact,
Varric Tethras
His script was flowing and elegant, much unlike my own scribble. As soon as Dagna was done reading, I leapt up in triumph. It may be a shaky business agreement, but it was a start. My plans had actually begun, and I knew I could cultivate them. This was the last hurdle I had foreseen in getting things going. Now my issue was a simple one, but the worst as of yet. I had to have patience. These next few months were going to test my patience to all hell, but I had to make sure the time was right before I attempted to insert myself into the ruling powers of Thedas.