Promised Land
Summary: By decree of King Alistair Therein, King of Ferelden, the Dalish elves shall have a homeland again! If only it were so easy. A story about nation-building, politics, so much racism, and figuring out the right level of elfiness.
Author's Note: It has always irked me that this boon got handwaved away. All the boons got handwaved away, but this one seemed annoying because there was no reason given. Then I dug more into the storytelling around elves and the Dalish in particular and Bioware's treatment of them actively pissed me off. So here we are! This fic assumes you have at least some knowledge of Dragon Age, but explanations will be provided narratively as well.
Chapter 1 -- A Promise Made
"The Gwaren Teyrnir, the Stenhold Arling, and Ostagar are hereby granted to the Dalish elves."
Those were the words that silenced an entire party of celebrating nobility. It lasted only a moment, but once the noise started again it was not so carefree. Some partygoers did not return to frivolity at all, but found a need to steady themselves with more wine. And then yet more wine.
Queen Anora of Ferelden was one such person. She hoped beyond hope that the alcohol would steady her hands, lest she choke her second husband to death in front of witnesses. She told herself she could wait until the party concluded -- until she later heard the Dalish representative talk about how glad she would be to spread the news. If the Hero of Ferelden had not been in her company, Anora would have ordered the messenger silenced -- condolences would be given to the Dalish clan, and that would be the end of it. Worse -- the Hero decided they would accompany the representative, so sending assassins would be pointless.
For all her waify figure and relative shortness, Anora was a terror when her temper stirred. She made sure to maintain a veneer of celebratory happiness and made her way through the nobles and military officers to her King husband's side. He had left the elevated throne platform to mingle, chat with his fellow adventurers and his adoptive family, so Anora had no trouble sliding up beside him with a false smile.
"Alistair," she spoke in a hushed tone while she smiled to fool eavesdroppers. "Could you walk with me for a bit?"
Golden-haired Alistair Theirin glanced at his wife and former sister-in-law, then at his drunken dwarf companion who seemed to know how much trouble Alistair had gotten into. "I'll, uh, be back in a bit. Don't set my new castle on fire while I'm gone."
The drunken dwarf chuckled ominously as they walked away.
While they made their way to the castle's promenade, Anora let Alistair's similar appearance to her first husband -- Alistair's late brother -- fool her into thinking of better times. It helped her steel herself for the discussion that was to follow.
"You're the King, decrees and all that are your affair. But as your Queen, it's my job to ensure those decrees are actually put into law." She looked up at him, stern and scolding with her eyes alone. "And I have to tell you that granting the Dalish land is going to cause nothing but problems."
Alistair's face screwed up in mild disgust as he gently pulled his arm out of lock with Anora's. His ceremonial armor caught the setting sun's light and made him look
so much like Cailan that it hurt Anora to see the expression. "The Hero of Ferelden asked me for land. They slew the Archdemon, saved the day, saved
both of us, and did the impossible." He looked at her like he desperately wanted her to understand. "Blights normally take years, sometimes
decades or more to stop. This one ended in
months. Literally unprecedented. Heh, I think that's the first time I used that word correctly." He smiled a bit at his achievement, then shook his head. "Anyway -- they deserved to have their boon granted."
"Yes, fine, whatever," Anora shook her head and looked away. "They've earned it, but the Dalish as a whole
haven't." The two of them kept walking so that spies would not be able to catch all of their conversation. It was inevitable that at least some of it would get out. "They're not even a unified group!"
Alistair sighed. "There's already Dalish in the Brecilian Forest -- and most of Stenhold is Blighted right now, anyway. The clans already in Ferelden can get started, and help the others adjust as they settle."
Anora swerved so quickly the gold buckles on her regal gown clinked. "You're serious," she said, shocked. "You mean for
all the Dalish to live there? Do you not -- how can you -- " she trailed off as she tried to process her husband's foolishness.
"Alright, I can tell when I'm missing something important. Tell me what it is, and we'll work it out. I'm not backing down, though."
Anora sighed and risked her makeup by touching her forehead to stave off a headache. "You're missing many, many important things that relate to each other. But I'll start with the most important questions." She looked at Alistair with a serious look. "Are you intending for them to be subject to the crown, or independent?"
Alistair narrowed his eyes at her, his expression was uncomprehending. "Independent. Obviously. It's their land."
"Alright. That's a terrible decision, but it's yours to make. Second -- what do you intend to do with the thousands of
humans who live in the
city of Gwaren alone? Or the cities along the coast? Where are they going to go? What about the property they had to leave behind to escape the Blight?"
He clenched his eyes shut as he realized his mistake. "Well… we'll have to set up negotiations with the Dalish, hash out borders, and stuff."
"And stuff," Anora sneered in a mockery of his voice. "You know what, I'm going to retire for the evening so that I can write up a
list of all the things we'll need to talk about." She stepped away, and back into the halls of the castle. Alistair was left to wonder how much work he'd created for himself.
--
Denerim was a frightful mess. The walls had been torn down, some parts of the city still smoked from earlier flames. Streets were laden with the dead and dying, people and animals alike. There was never more woe in a Ferelden city than when they had to put an end to their dogs to save them an agonizing death.
Much of the area outside Denerim was Blighted too. Dead darkspawn and active Blight infections had damaged the soil and killed plants. So while the wealthy humans inside the walls celebrated victory, and poor humans struggled to take stock, the Dalish labored to heal the land.
Three clans, brought together by the call to fight the darkspawn and their archdemon, labored intensely to uproot blighted plants, and help the earth bury toxic corpses deep underground and hidden away in geodes where water wouldn't reach. And where the bodies couldn't escape if they were reanimated.
It would take days of work from the Dalish mages to see the land around Denerim alone totally restored. They would celebrate in their own way, when the evil substance was gone from the land. There was hope that much of the countryside could be saved due to how brief the Blight had been.
As the sun went down, the leaders of the three Dalish clans elected to stop for the day and rest. Their clans intermingled, told stories, shared food, and the three Keepers convened to break bread together.
Lanaya of Mansalin clan, the youngest of the Keepers, was less than confident about her equal status to the others in her company. She had been the First to her predecessor Zathrian not six weeks prior, and the position as Keeper didn't seem to fit her just yet. She stirred a pot of stew while the elder Keepers sat and rested.
Ilshae, Keeper of Sylenaste clan, sat cross-legged in the soil around the fire. She had her elbow propped up on one knee to support her head as she looked into the flames. Like Lanaya, she had a short set of robes meant to maximize ease of movement and blend into thick foliage. When offered a bowl by the junior Keeper, she took it without fuss.
Eldest of the three was Deshanna of Lavellan clan. She wore Keeper robes in the style of the Dales, much to Lanaya's envy. The most notable feature was the outermost coat lined with paired leaf patterns down the sides -- a striking design. The elder elf took the bowl offered to her and immediately set it down. "Marethari should have been with us," she said and shook her head gently.
"Asha'bellanar demands her due," Ilshae said, slow and methodical, and waited for her stew to cool a bit before she dug into it with a spoon. "Hmm, good seasonings."
"Thank you," Lanaya responded, demure, and poured some for herself. "Sabrae clan would have helped, but with that Grey Warden and their friends, we had all we needed."
"It will not reflect good on her that one of her clan slew the Archdemon and lived, itself unprecedented, while she crossed the sea to the Free Marches." Deshanna looked across the fire at Ilshae. "She left the Warden's mother with your clan, did she not?"
Ilshae nodded, and continued to eat her soup. All elves were willowy in build, but Ilshae looked like she had been without good food for a while. Her hunger was understandable, for among her clan the Keeper would eat last, if there was even food by that point. "We'll look after her, let there be no doubt."
"I was told that the Warden's mother left?" Lanaya sat with her stew and stirred it as it cooled.
"In all the ways that count, that woman is their mother," Deshanna said evenly. "Our clans are all swollen with refugees from the cities and the Circle -- we might well need to divide if we aim to travel far."
"They always swell after a crisis," Ilshae murmured to Lanaya and gestured with her spoon. "The city elves will go back when they tire of us. And the Circle mages will need to be given to more mobile clans to escape the templars after them."
"Not necessarily." Deshanna smirked, her green eyes alight with mischief. For a woman of her age, it was quite a sight. "I have among my clan a Circle mage who told me where the shemlin keep the phylacteries which they use to track escaped mages. Such a shame, that the... darkspawn burned the building to the ground during the battle."
Lanaya's eyes widened while Ilshae nodded appreciatively. "We could really just… walk away with as many elves from the Circle as we can, can't we?" Lanaya looked down at her stew and fought the urge to smirk herself. "We're stealing our people back from them."
"No," Ilshae said and tapped Lanaya's hand with her spoon. "They are coming home."
The others nodded and began to eat in silence for a while. After the sun had fully set, there was a sudden ruckus from the outskirts of the camp. Cheering, Lanaya realized. She rose from her meal the fastest of the three and left the fire to meet the ruckus. She saw them only in glances through the throng of young Dalish who had gathered around them -- the Hero of Ferelden. The warriors and hunters shoved drinks at them and spirited them away to a fire for the story of how the Archdemon was slain. At the Warden's side was another of the People, a dark-skinned elf in ironbark armor, perhaps a Dalish from the north?
Lanaya saw an elderly elf woman in a yellow formal dress approach her through the crowd -- just as her fellow Keepers caught up at last. She beamed so brightly that the sun would be jealous and had to contain her glee as she approached.
"Ashaelle, you're early," Ilshae said with an arched brow. "But you look happy about it." The middle-aged Keeper indicated the woman. "This is Ashalle, the Warden's second mother. My guest."
"Andaran atish'an," the other Keepers greeted her.
Ashaelle returned the greeting and looked as if she were about to explode in glee. Like a child, she bounced on her feet. "Keepers, I have fantastic news, but I think you need to hear it first to decide what to do about it." As one the Keepers leaned in to listen to the whispers Ashaelle had for them.
When she heard it, Lanaya felt like she was going to faint. She stumbled backward and looked around in a daze. Her ears had been ringing all day from the battle and the cleanup after, she had no idea if the news had made it worse or better.
Deshanna was still a moment, then put her fingers to her mouth to whistle out into the camp. "Gather the Firsts and Seconds," she shouted. "There are matters which we must discuss!"
Ilshae's breathing became erratic for a moment, she had to sit down. After Lanaya helped her to do so quickly, she rested her head in her hands. "Creators," was all she said, stunned.
"Please don't share this with anyone just yet," Lanaya said quickly, her voice a little unsteady. "We want to discuss it a bit before we get everyone too excited to sleep tonight."
"I'll keep silent until you say otherwise, Keepers." Ashaelle bowed her head, though she still seemed bouncy. "And don't worry about my da'len or their Antivan friend, they want us to announce it -- they'll keep their peace." She left their presence and went toward where her da'len had gone to tell of their battles to the clans.
The three Keepers returned to their fire and waited for the arrival of their Firsts and Seconds. While they did, Ilshae dug through the contents of her aravel. She came back with three rolled-up maps, and spread them out for the Keepers to see.
"We don't have complete maps of the forest," she said. "But my clan has passed through the portions closest to the Korcari Wilds for decades. Here's what we have, to give you an idea of what it's like."
The three Keepers poured over the maps, to get an idea of what they would be bringing their clans into. Deshanna got their attention and pointed out a spot. "I know this place -- Keeper Gothallen mentioned it to me once, an entrance to the Deep Roads, from when the dwarves traded with the shemlin."
Lanaya frowned, as did Ilshae. The middle-aged Keeper spoke up. "The darkspawn might well flee to there -- we'll need to investigate the tunnels."
The youngest Keeper pinched her chin in consideration. "But, if it's isolated enough… we could investigate it as a possible Deep Roads outpost for trade with the dwarves. That way we don't have to go through the humans."
"Don't get ahead of ourselves," Deshanna chided them both. "The Blight has ended for hours at most. There is still work to be done, the whole south of Ferelden needs to be cleaned of the Blight." Deshanna looked down at the map and then looked into the flames. "And we need to send word to the other clans -- as many as we can find."
Lanaya rubbed her forehead as a sudden thought came to her. "We don't have time," she muttered. "The humans will want to talk specific terms right away -- they won't accept that our three clans aren't in a position to negotiate on behalf of all the clans."
"Perhaps the Warden could be of assistance then," Ilshae said, and resumed eating her stew. "They slew the Archdemon with the shemlin king, they could negotiate better terms for us?"
"I will ask, they have some skills with it -- but we have to have a plan if they say no." Lanaya looked at the happy throng of elves in the distance, wistful. "They've done so much for us already -- it seems cruel to ask more if we can manage without them. Such a short time after the Blight's ended, too."
Deshanna looked at the crowd as Lanaya had done, and nodded decisively. "Then we'll make time." She glanced away as the Seconds and Firsts began to leave the crowd, then focused a steely gaze on the other Keepers. "I will take some hunters and go back across the sea. We will spread the word to as many clans as we can find -- I know their routes the best out of the three of us. You will delay the shemlin by saying the Blighted soil needs more work to repair than we anticipated. Perhaps by the time I return, it will be true."
"We'll play up the damage of the Blight," Ilshae said, slow but deliberate. "Perhaps, if the shemlin have hearts, they will not hate us for being given lands near theirs." The middle-aged Keeper squinted at Deshanna. "Aren't you too old to go off without your clan, though? Will your First manage?"
"Not all the clans will have even heard the news that there was a Blight, or will believe that it was dealt with so quickly." Deshanna frowned and shook her head. "They will trust me. Perhaps they will even believe me. And we'll need them to spread the word even further."
Ilshae's First was the first to arrive, Velanna -- a stern, temperamental woman who was part of a growing trend among Firsts and Seconds, the designing of custom vallaslin on their face. She originally came from a clan in western Orlais, and had the peculiar combination of blond hair and dark skin that elves from that region shared. Velanna had once confided that her vallaslin was based on elven murals she had seen there. She was only a year younger than Lanaya, so the new Keeper waved at her as they would at greetings.
Velanna waved back, awkward perhaps because of the difference in their positions.
Ilshae frowned when she saw only Deshanna and her own clan represented. "Lanaya, where is your First and your Seconds?"
Lanaya's cheer dimmed slightly. "Right now it appears that none of them survived. We lost so many to the werewolves before the Warden arrived, and when Keeper Zathrian passed as well… some took their lives out of grief. The rest… I have not seen since the battle." There was a quiet understanding -- the humans had made it clear the Dalish were not welcome in the city uninvited with the battle done.
Deshanna clicked her tongue and waved her First, Mahanon, to the front as he arrived.
Only his vallaslin marked him as one of The People, for his fashion sense had taken after the humans. Long breeches tucked into knee-high boots, a tunic with a long sleeveless leather coat on top. Lanaya noted that he was one of the few younger Dalish to have a traditional pattern dedicated to one of the elven gods -- Mythal's pattern in scar tissue pink to stand out against his darker skin.
"There are many things we must discuss," Deshanna announced to all the elvish mages present. "Things regarding the healing of the land, and the future of the Dalish. First, let us start with momentous news which we ask you to keep secret for now...."
--
"Alim, Roscoe keeps kicking me when I'm trying to sleep!"
"I am not!"
Alim sighed and got up from his bedroll. It took him a minute due to the work he had done in the battle. Be a Knight-Enchanter, they'd said. Serve as a patriot on the front lines, they'd said. They didn't prepare him for the grim realities of fighting. It was good that he had been too tired to undress before bed -- clearly he still had work to do. Thankfully less killing was involved.
All around him were the fifteen or so elven mages whom he had brought along to the Dalish. The Templars would look for them, but it would take them time to realize the phylacteries were gone, and more time to think to look among the Dalish. By then, they would be gone. Alim walked around the cots of the apprentices and junior mages to find where the two children squabbled.
Minaeve and Roscoe were the youngest, ten and nine respectively, they had only recently been brought to the Circle and now they were free of it. That would be fine, if Roscoe hadn't been bitter that Minaeve was one of the Dalish -- she had been stolen from her clan, and tricked into thinking she had been cast out. But she knew elvish, and the stories, and Roscoe didn't -- so the young elf had decided to be a prick.
When Alim came to them, he saw Minaeve sitting on her bedroll while Roscoe had laid down and rolled over away from their minder. Alim glanced at them and saw a footprint on Minaeve's blanket, rather Roscoe-sized. The young red-headed elf girl glared at the brunette boy with his back to her.
Alim sighed and crouched down to Minaeve. Whispers in his ears told him what to say, insight from his consort. "Why don't you go use my bedroll for the night? I'll stay here with Roscoe."
She nodded, still cross, and stomped away from her fellow youngster.
Alim sat down cross-legged on Minaeve's bedroll -- fortunately they were all the same size and rested his jaw in his hands. He let Roscoe pretend to be asleep for a moment while he made sure the surrounding apprentices actually were asleep. "You didn't have a problem with Minaeve before we came to the Dalish. Want to talk about it?"
The young elf shook his head and remembered his act. He didn't respond after that.
Alim stayed with the youngster until he actually fell asleep, then stood and stumbled away from the apprentices. He was too awake for sleep, he'd have to do some menial task to become tired enough to try for sleep again. It would be too easy to borrow strength from his consort, to negate the need for sleep -- the first step on a dangerous road.
He found the piled up Circle robes that he and the other escapees had come to the Dalish in -- they had to hastily change to blend in. But rather than destroy the robes, Alim began to take them apart with a small knife he had started to keep on his person since the incident at the Circle tower. A spirit blade was good for a fight, but had limited utility.
He cut through seams to break the robes down into pieces of fabric that the Dalish could use for other purposes -- perhaps they would appreciate adding some blues or reds to their fashion. Perhaps they would become coverings for the aravel wagons.
A foot stepped down on the grass, it rustled. Suddenly Alim whirled around, his knife in position to stab, and a ball of arcane energy in his other hand.
One of the Dalish mages was there, and recoiled at Alim's posture and expression. Perhaps he'd never seen another elf prepared to kill him specifically. Perhaps he'd never seen golden eyes glare at him with killing intent. Alim only knew he was Dalish because of his tattoos, otherwise he dressed like a somewhat fashionable city elf.
"Easy," the Dalish said with his hands raised and spread. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spook you."
Alim slowly lowered the knife and dispelled his arcane bolt. "Forgive me, I've been… on edge lately." He didn't turn his back to the Dalish elf, but pulled his work around so he could keep at it.
"After today, and what I'm told happened at your tower, I understand." The Dalish looked at him with pity, but Alim felt no surge of anger at the pity as happened in the stories. He didn't feel anything from it. "I'm Mahanon, Keeper Deshanna's First."
"Alim," the escaped Circle mage introduced himself. "Formerly of the Circle of Magi. How can I help you?"
"Well, we wanted to thank you for your willingness to help heal the land from the Blight, even if it put your people at greater risk of being noted." He inclined his head to the shorter elf.
"People would notice 'Dalish' mages doing nothing. It would draw suspicion."
"A fair point, but you still helped. We're grateful."
"You're welcome," Alim said, mostly to try and get Mahanon to go away. "Is there something else?"
Mahanon sighed and sat down nearby. Denerim's walls cast long shadows, which crept across them as the moon moved through the sky. "I understand you are what is known as a… 'spirit healer?'"
It was Alim's turn to sigh and set aside his work. His consort's whispers became louder in his ears as he worked magic through his limbs in anticipation of healing. "Alright, where does it hurt?" A faint golden glow covered his hand as he extended it toward the Dalish.
Mahanon's eyes went wide. "Oh, um, I'm not injured."
"Diseased then?" Alim arched an eyebrow at the Dalish. "It doesn't work so well against diseases or parasites, but it can help. It's not Blight, is it?"
"No, that's not -- ahem." The tattooed elf took a breath and spoke. "Our clan doesn't allow magics that affiliate with spirits -- most don't, actually. But we know that your association helps you help people. You do a lot of good with it."
"People are alive right now that wouldn't be if I hadn't learned how to do this," Alim said, mildly subdued. He dismissed the golden glow with a snap of his wrist and returned to work. "But… I get it. We have spirits pass through us to help mend people, so we always have a chance to lose control. Extra diligence is required." The Circle mage regarded the Dalish mage, and nodded in difference. "So you want me to stop?"
"I didn't say that." Mahonon rubbed his hand through his hair, which made Alim notice that he was red-headed as Alim was. Different shades of red, though. "The Keepers want to know what sort of spirit you communicate with. They want to have an open mind considering all that's happened recently, but they need more information."
"I'm on my second spirit," Alim admitted. He tried to keep his face free of emotion while he talked. The pain was still raw. His consort whispered sweet things to him. "The first one… was destroyed during the incident at the tower. Right now I consort with a spirit of unity."
Mahanon's eyes widened for a moment, then he appeared to reflect on what Alim had implied. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you." Alim turned away from the Dalish. No one but Wynne and his consort had offered anything like sympathy for what he had lost. With all that had happened just earlier that day, it felt like a stone laid on his back. He would not break down and wake the apprentices up. He wouldn't. The whispers stopped.
"Being associated with a spirit of unity is… hopefully good. They're not common, so they're not interested in the waking world very much. I've never even heard of one. That'll put their minds at ease… but they likely will ask you not to teach the techniques to anyone without their approval."
The Circle mage nodded. "I can do that. Or rather, refrain from that."
"Thank you." There was a shuffle and shift of grass, the Dalish had stood up. "You should rest, we have a lot of Blight cleaning to do tomorrow."
"No promises, still a lot of work here to do," Alim gestured with his knife. He was even more awake than when he'd started. It would take hours to get to sleep. That assumed none of the apprentices needed something in the night.
As the Dalish began to leave, there was a faint sound from where the apprentices lay. Someone had woken up crying. Alim sighed, stood, put the knife away and started to walk. He walked past the Dalish, nodded in acknowledgment, and went to work. It would not be the first time he was a shoulder to cry on.
Nor the last.
---
Being an essential worker is made of ass. Stop going to stores. I want to be a hermit and get paid to write fanfiction all day, goddamnit.
Anyway, the major points of divergence here are threefold.
- The Dalish are given Gwaren, Stenhold (mostly Blighted), and Ostagar as their boon, rather than the Hinterlands + Ostagar. Combining the riches and titles boon with the land boon because it makes sense from Alistair's perspective.
- Lanaya's clan is joined by two others who came to help with the Blights. Thus she is not alone to speak for her entire culture.
- Alim Surana from the Magi origin lived and shared some interesting things with the Dalish.
The three mages per clan rule DA:I introduced is not canon for this story. Because it's stupid. In my headcanon, spirits of unity are the counterpart to demons of envy.
Mahariel probably won't be an active character in the story. Their part as the hero is over and done, they're off to Kirkwall, and then Amaranthine for their DLC adventures. I don't quite know yet.