Doom Upon All The World

Chapter 4: Princess

It was a terrible thing to not be accepted by one's mother. It was something the Iron Bull never had to worry about being Qunari. You didn't know know your parents in the Qun. It wasn't something that happened. You weren't made out of love or marriage or happiness. You were bred. Made for a purpose. Bred to be a specific thing and no more and no less than that. It was a fate all Qunari were subject to. He understood why he didn't know his parents. They were raised in the same place, the same culture he was and grew up with the same ideals. He didn't need to know them.

His life was perfect the way it was. But for someone who expected to have someone love and admire them because all the people around them had it, not having those parents was a heart wrenching reality. Dorian had a problem similar to this. He had parents. It wasn't as if they weren't present in his life. But in a way his situation was worse. His parents knew who he was, had raised him and yet they wanted nothing of him. They had tortured and kidnapped him all in an effort to 'fix' him. They disgusted Bull. He cringed to think what he might do did he ever find himself alone with them, Dorian absent to hold him back.

But the question of parents and lineage did not come up in the midst of heart felt conversation about Dorian's past. He was traveling with Bull and the Chargers one morning through the Exalted Plains. The area was well known for housing the Dalish and it historic Elven culture so as expected, they ran into many Elves along the way. What they didn't expect was to encounter Dwarves. Most Dwarves lived under the mountain in Orzammar but many Dwarves, those like Varric and the Merchant's Guild, were Surfacers. Surfacers were Dwarves either born on or brought to the surface. They could never go back under the mountain once setting foot outside it.

They held this silly superstition that they might fall into the sky if they weren't ready to leave. Many had panic attacks upon leaving Orzammar from just looking up into the sky. They were wandering along the path back to camp were they came across a small outpost. It looked sort of like an outpost. It had a short wooden perimeter, a lookout, and a camp fire in the middle. There must have been people staying there for days, weeks possibly. When they got closer and dared to venture inside the camp the reality was far worse than they imagined.

The Exalted Plains was the homeland of wolves. Dorian thought it ironic that Lavellan's family did not live here. Even from afar, Fen'Harel still cursed the lands of the Elves with his kind. A local pack found the camp and killed all that were within. All of the bodies were those of Dwarves. They were first time Surfacers and Bull was sure they had no idea what they were doing. They didn't know how to protect themselves or even to expect the wolves and it got them killed.

All but one was left dead. They were about to leave. The camp had nothing of value and the Chargers had more respect for the dead than to mindlessly scavenge over their bodies. That's when Bull heard it. Dorian moved up beside him, giving him a look. He'd heard it too. A high pitched cry. Just one. It was nothing more. They thought perhaps it was their imagination or maybe it came all the way from the Dalish camp. Then it came again. The same needy, desperate cry for someone to help. The Chargers started searching the camp vigorously on Bull's demand.

He and Dorian looked through the tents. The frilly mage enter one, while Bull looked through another. "Amatus," Dorian called from the tent. Bull scurried from his over to him. Dorian stood in the tent, his back to the huge Qunari, his head down, looking at something. He rocked on his heels, bouncing back and forth, making soothing shushing sounds. He turned around and lifted his gaze to Bull. Cradled in his arms, wrapped in a ram's wool blanket, was a baby. The Iron Bull's breath seemed to go out of him. He'd been holding it. He knew when he heard the cry that it was a child but he wasn't sure what state the poor thing would be in.

To find it safe and looking up at himself and Dorian with deep contented eyes, he was relieved. At the same time he was sullen. This child was left in the tent by its mother so that she might be of help to the others. In doing that, she left her child orphaned. "What do we do?" Bull asked Dorian as they exited the tent and the Chargers gathered around them to stare at the child. "I don't know but we most certainly can't leave her here." Dorian replied. He couldn't take is eyes off the little thing. She had the reddest hair he'd ever seen on a Dwarf and the clearest green eyes. He could only compare their shade to the most beautiful of emeralds. She had soft baby skin that was covered in the marks of freckles on her pink cheeks.