Dragon Age: Chains of the Past

Chapter 1: Enslaved

The days blurred together in a haze of pain and disorientation as the ship carrying Ashlea sailed across the Waking Sea. Bound and helpless, she spent her time in the dark hold, her body bruised and aching from the rough treatment of her captors. Her mind, however, was sharp, clinging to thoughts of Elora and her home with Clan Lenrian. Every moment of suffering was endured with the hope of escape and the promise of a reunion with her daughter.

On the third day of the voyage, Ashlea's captors dragged her up to the deck. The bright sunlight was blinding after days in the hold, and the salty sea air stung her eyes. She squinted against the harsh light, trying to make sense of her surroundings. They had docked at a bustling port, the air filled with the sounds of shouting sailors and the creaking of ships.

"Move, elf," one of the guards barked, shoving her forward.

Ashlea stumbled, her legs weak from disuse. She caught herself and straightened, refusing to show any more weakness. Her defiance earned her a rough slap, but she bit back the cry of pain, her pale blue eyes flashing with anger.

As she was marched off the ship and through the crowded streets of the port city, Ashlea's heart sank. She was far from home, in a land she didn't recognize. The humans around her paid little attention to the bedraggled elf being led through their midst, their indifference a stark reminder of her new reality.

Her captors brought her to a grand estate, its imposing gates and tall walls a testament to the wealth and power of its owner. They dragged her through the gates and into the courtyard, where a stern-faced noblewoman awaited them. The woman was elegantly dressed, her sharp eyes assessing Ashlea with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

"Is this the one?" the noblewoman asked, her voice cold.

"Yes, my lady," the guard replied. "We found her in the forest. She's a Dalish herbalist and archer. She'll make a fine addition to your household."

The noblewoman stepped closer, examining Ashlea as if she were a piece of livestock. Ashlea met her gaze defiantly, refusing to be cowed. The noblewoman's lips curled into a slight smile.

"She has spirit. Good. She'll need it to survive here. What's your name elf?" 

Ashlea hesitated, her pride and identity warring with the reality of her situation. Finally, she answered, her voice steady. "Ashlea."

The noblewoman shook her head. "No longer. You will be called Adaia. You belong to me now, and you will do as you're told."

Ashlea felt a surge of anger and helplessness at the casual stripping away of her identity. But she remained silent, knowing that defiance would only bring more suffering.

The noblewoman gestured to a servant. "Take her inside. Get her cleaned up and dressed appropriately. She will serve as my personal attendant."

As Ashlea was led into the estate, the reality of her new life began to sink in. The luxurious surroundings were a stark contrast to the simple beauty of the forest she had called home. The opulent hallways and grand chambers felt suffocating, the air thick with the scent of perfumes and rich foods.

The servant led her to a small room, barely more than a closet, and handed her a simple dress. "Put this on. Lady Marian doesn't tolerate disobedience."

Ashlea changed quickly, the rough fabric of the dress a constant reminder of her captivity. The servant then took her to a washroom, where she was allowed to clean herself for the first time in days. The water was cold, but it felt like a small mercy after the filth of the ship's hold.Once she was clean and dressed, the servant led her toLady Marian's chambers. The noblewoman was seated at a vanity, brushing her hair. She glanced at Ashlea through the mirror, her expression unreadable.

"You will attend to my needs, Adaia,"Lady Marian said, her tone commanding. "You will do everything I ask without question or complaint. Fail me, and you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?"

Ashlea nodded, her eyes downcast. "Yes, my lady."

"Good. Now, brush my hair."

The days that followed were a blur of menial tasks and constant vigilance. Ashlea, now Adaia, was forced to attend to Lady Marian's every whim. She was made to dress her, prepare her baths, and ensure that her chambers were always immaculate. The work was exhausting, both physically and emotionally, but Ashlea found a grim determination to endure. She held onto the hope that one day she would find a way to escape and return to Elora.

Lady Marian was a harsh mistress, quick to anger and unyielding in her demands. But Ashlea noticed that the noblewoman was also observant and intelligent, qualities that made her a formidable opponent. Lady Marian seemed to take a perverse pleasure in testing Ashlea's limits, pushing her to the brink of breaking.

One evening, as Ashlea was preparing Lady Marian's bed, the noblewoman spoke, her tone unusually soft. "You are a strong one, Adaia. Most would have broken by now."

Ashlea's hands stilled, her heart pounding. She chose her words carefully. "I have someone to return to, my lady."

Lady Marian's eyes narrowed. "A child, perhaps? A family?"

Ashlea nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "My daughter. Elora. She's all I have."For a moment, Lady Marian's expression softened, a flicker of something almost human passing through her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the familiar mask of cold indifference.

"Do your work well, Adaia," Lady Marian said, her voice regaining its edge. "And perhaps you will see her again one day."

The words hung in the air, a faint glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of Ashlea's captivity. She clung to them, drawing strength from the possibility of a future where she could be free, where she could hold her daughter again.

But for now, she was Adaia, a slave in a noblewoman's house, enduring each day with the fierce determination that had defined her as Ashlea. She would survive this, she promised herself. And one day, she would find her way back to Elora.