walking on eggshells

Devera had disappeared abruptly, a month or so after she and Ragnar had their rendezvous. And she was gone for a month; in that month a dragon rampaged parts of Thedas, reports flooded in but the dragon was unable to be tracked down. Living as a human had made her better able to avoid being tracked.

After a few more weeks, she'd laid her clutch. And she carried them back with her to Amaranthine, where she took up residence again in one of the many rooms. It wasn't hard to find her; she was a rogue Grey Warden who'd disappeared abruptly and never shown back up to her post.

Within the room she had claimed was a makeshift nest, fabrics, and a fire going all the time. Quite a strange sight in the middle of summer, but she didn't realize that. So far she had managed to coast under the radar.

Three little eggs were bundled up, kept warm. She rarely left the nest she'd made for herself, if she wasn't outside in the garden she was on the nest. If she wasn't eating, she was on the nest. Her wandering days were few and far between.

The gardens she had crafted, with a variety of different toxic plants, went untended and eventually became overrun by weeds. Her actions were strange; she was usually extremely talkative, excited to interact while at meals.

Now, though, it was straight home from meals to tend to her nest. Almost obsessively, then again, most dragons did not leave their nest period. She tested the warmth of one of the eggs. When they grew too cold, she'd quickly reheat them to the appropriate temperature by stocking the fire. It was bothersome to have to re-vive the fire by hand rather than a burst of her own fire.

In the wild, she'd use her breath to do so. They'd be kept on a fire or bed of coals in the center of the nest. And effectively, that's what she's mimicked here. The nest surrounds the fireplace, fanning out from it in a half-circle.

It's clear where she sleeps. She's pulled her mattress from its frame onto the edge of the nest, and as the fire in the fireplace rekindled, she settled on the mattress to watch the eggs closely. Devera had not noticed Ragnar following her back to her room, and as she settled in front of the fireplace, watching the flames as if lulled into a calm disassociation, the knock on her door does not startle her. She doesn't hear it.

He still couldn't seem to piece it together. None of it made sense. If she'd left immediately after their tryst in the tower he might understand her intentions. Instead he was left without explanation as to where or why Warden Devera had gone. He sent out scouting parties on the fourth day. It was one thing for a warden to leave on a mission but it was usually with some kind of notice. Not that they were in the business of babysitting the Thedian warriors, but it was good to know how strong you truly were in times like these. Each time the searches produced nothing. Nothing except tails of a dragon ravaging its way across Thedas, a threat to be sure but nothing entirely out of the ordinary. 

Ragnar went out on a few of his own, confident he appeared as the concerned constable and not a stilted lover looking for an explanation. He didn't need that companionship from Devera, he just needed to know she was alive. Never mind the fact that if she was found alive and discovered to have left on her on volition, she would face punishment for desertion.  But that was secondary to his current objective. 

His stomach dropped when news surfaced of her appearance in town. It seemed odd for her to be so near after such a disappearance. Had she been under their noses this entire time? Scouts briefed him on her movements, how she rarely seemed to leave her quarters except to tend to a nearby garden. How unlike herself she seemed. Or maybe this was herself and the ruse was what they knew. Either way he needed to see her. He needed to know. 

He was dressed in a full set of flexible leathers, eschewing his regular plate mail for something he could maneuver easily in. However he was still armed with Hellreaver and shield across his back, and daggers in their usual places throughout his person. If this was some sort of trap, he would be prepared enough to fight. It seemed weird just to knock after all of this but he had to start somewhere. He knocked once, and waited. He knocked a second time, and waited. The third time he raised he pressed his ear to the wood and instantly he was met with a noticeable warmth emanating from the room, the smell of fire swirling into his nostrils. Letting concern dictate his actions, he burst into the room, shouldering open the door in a burst of splintered. After orienting, he looked around taking in the odd sight before him. Devera? He approached the form on the mattress slowly, his eyes soon traveling to the fire. Where those......eggs? His head tilted in confusion before he stepped over her and knelt down in front of the fire for a closer look.

The second Ragnar stepped over her, he'd feel sharp pricks of pain as she reached out with one hand, which was covered in dark scales, and fingernails became the distinct claw of a dragon. She growled low in her throat, Don't touch them. Most nesting dragons would kill a stranger the moment they stepped foot in the nest.

He wasn't a stranger, though. She scrambled off of the bed to put herself between the fireplace and Ragnar, dark eyes narrowed to slits. Both hands shifted into clawed paws, scales covering up to her elbows.

They're mine. Not yours. Her nostrils flared, and she stared at the warden. Her gaze left him to study the door, off its hinges, wood splintered across the floor.

He was letting the heat of the room out. You're trying to kill them. It's going to be too cold! She was frazzled, frantic. Likely from self-isolating. While it was natural in her dragon form, it was not as natural to her human form. And that was taking a toll on her.

Even if he were afforded the chance to examine the eggs closer, he might still have issue identifying them. Eggs incubating over extreme heat weren't rare. The rarity was a grey warden who disappeared without a trace showing up with three in her possession. Like she was caring for them. Every choice she made to accommodate the eggs told him that she meant to hatch these eggs. As a warrior vowed to protect these lands, he did not appreciate the implication of any beast being unleashed upon them. 

He seethed when she grabbed him, the shock muddling his senses. He barely had time to turn before she was in front of him, blocking his view of the eggs. What he saw instead was not the warden he knew. His face contorted in confusion, eyes narrowing as he took in her appearance. Her hands were claws, her arms covered in black scales not unlike.....

A chill erupted along his spine, a hand instinctively reaching over his shoulder to grab the hilt of Hellreaver. But he hesitated, frozen in place by intrusive thoughts. It couldn't be. It was impossible.

Warden Eluvia, He said formally, as he followed her gaze to the door in back. Whatever you've done, we can fix this. But you need to compose yourself. He held out his other hand in a way he might to a wild stallion he was trying to break, his other hand still on the hilt of his favored great sword. He widened his stance, blocking her way to the door. Stand down Warden.

His hand reached for the great sword on his back, and he widened his stance. He was mistaken if he thought she'd try to run; to leave her eggs and flee. She'd stand her ground if it resulted in her death. Her pupils dilated, as she stared at the hand on the hilt of that damned sword.

That's not my name, she snarled, long claws curled into her palms as she stared the man down. Leave. Leave my babies alone. Her babies. Leave. One clawed hand lashed out. He might not even realize he'd been clawed, they were sharp and she was fast. It'd take a second.

Then what is your name? His tone remained unbothered despite the racing of his heart in his throat as she threatened him. He did not doubt for a second she would let him leave here with her or those eggs. Your babies? Where did you find these eggs? Something terrible had transpired to warden Eluvia, that much was clear.

He blinked and when he opened his eyes she was in a finished lunge, claws dripping with blood. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. That was until a twinge of pain prompted him to reach up to his cheek as the skin parted in a deep gash so clean it looked like the look of a skilled surgeon. Soon after his hands would start to shake and his knees buckled. What have you done? He stumbled, his hand soon becoming painted in his lifeforce. His eyes lifted to her, full of fear and anger. Hellreaver was pointed between them, level with her neck. Stay back or I will kill you. I don't want your eggs. I just want to know what happened. I've come to bring you back where you belong. A ruse really, he had no intention at this point of bringing her back to Soldier's Peak knowing what he knew now. Not unless it was for a reckoning.

Devera stared at him, narrowing her eyes. He asked her name and she hissed, Razikale. She backed against the fireplace, the brick against her back as he demanded to know where she had found these eggs. They're mine. She snarled the words.

He was bleeding, and his knees buckled. He stumbled, and still managed to bring his sword level with her neck. She stayed still, head tilted back, blue eyes fixed on him. They're yours, too.

Razikale, Razikale.....

Realization hit him like a boulder to the chest, sending him reeling with the little fortitude he had left.

'And the archdemon --- Razikale, she's going to find you......she'll find you and from your seed, the Blight will end.

The shock consumed his body, a warrior now devolved into the manifestation of his fear. Their eyes locked and a silent plea floated between them attempting to explain away some of this insanity.

His too? It cannot be. It would not be. His oath as a grey warden dictated that bleak reality. An archdemon with lies, cannot say it's a first. he leveled his broad sword as he backed towards the door. He needed to sound the alarm, he needed back up. It was a mistake coming here alone. You will pay for those lies.

The dragoness watched him, eyes softening as he took in the fear. Fear was dangerous, but the way he backed away made her calm down. The eggs were in less danger now. I'm not an archdemon anymore. Haven't been since you took me to that courtyard. It's a glimpse of the Devera he knew. The Devera that had wooed him.

And she settled on the floor beside of the fireplace, claws disappearing and skin remaining. There's no Blight anymore. I don't hear them in my head. The further he gets from her, the calmer she is.

--- RETCONNED ENDING: She escapes and takes the surviving egg with her. ---