Dragon Age Inquisition: Their Wonderful Abnormality

An Empty Sky

 “Maker’s breath what is that?”

Scruffy material, looking suspiciously like a ripped up shirt was throw over a large cage that screeched and squealed, jolting and protesting against a pair of scratched arms that hugged the cage close.

Elsa Trevelyan grinned broadly revealing a line of white teeth, a small ravine of crimson snaking down her sharp cheek form one of the deeper cuts peppering her skin.

 “Close the door, Commander Uptight,” She ordered. “I’m not having Seeker burst in.”

 Obeying, Cullen shot the Inquisitor a quizzical glance, taking his eyes off the cage for only a second. Her hair was wild a sticking out towards all points of a compass and her green undershirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, was ripped and dusty as though she’d been struggling with something on the ground.

 “Are you ready for this?” She asked with a challenging glint in her storm eyes.

Cullen gave an exasperated sigh, throwing up his arms in defeat.

 “Yes?”

Elsa’s face was alight with the thrill of her new game.

 “Think you can handle it, Commander?” She pressed, throwing herself down onto the cage again as it gave a shrill screech and another frenzied attempt to escape its prison. Cullen glanced at the cage on his desk warily then to the grinning face of the Herald.

 “Why? Is it going to kill something?” He asked, frowning.

Elsa gave a light shrug.

 “If pressed. I mean… wait will it know if I killed its mother?”

 “What? Elsa what have you done… Something’s burning—

The Inquisitor whipped away the shirt before the commander could protest. His half formed words turned into a wordless cry of surprise as sleek body of scales caught the candlelight from behind scorched, dented bars. The commander fell very silent, caught between shock and sheer wonderment.

 A glossy body writhed behind the bars, circling, snaking, with every move of rippling muscles the candlelight caught the glossiness of the scales. A wonderful blend of silky obsidian and fiery golds and reds, tinting the neck and whipping tail that seemed to have a life of its own. A dance of its own. A pair of wings the colour of sunsets were folded at its side, twitching, flexing, the skin somewhat translucent so before the candles, a gentle glow of golden made them look alight like fire itself. Its head, somewhat disproportionate to the rest of its willowy build attempted to push its way through the bars in clumsy thuds against the metal, a pair of hard onyx eyes flecked with a fiery blaze darting around the room.

 The creature gave out a shrill screech, teeth bared as it receded into itself, clawed feet scrambling, wings frantically beating, unable to cower further.

 “A Dragonling.” Cullen breathed unable to tear his eyes away from the cage. “Elsa you…”

The Inquisitor watched him intently, eyes flicking from the baby dragon to the commander and back again, watching the two stare at each other, each just as fascinated.

 The Inquisitor sighed, eyes finally settling on the dragon. There was a certain inescapable enrapture Cullen had simply succumbed to. She slowly crouched beside the desk so she was head-height with the Dragon. Its darting eyes sought her out, read her, alive with the flames of fear.

 “Isn’t he magnificent?” She breathed so quietly it could have been a sigh, resting her head on her arms folded over the desk, captivated like a child.