Tightrope

Images flickered through Asha's mind, one after another, some staying longer than others. Like a series of dreams, dreams of a life being lived, a happy life. She grew older, her mom and her dad and her brother were her rock and safe place. Learning magic, becoming a teenager, some of the dreams felt more like reality. Of course, it was Asha's mind so there were also plenty of dreams of unicorns and princesses. Then there were times she remembered, the images of her tiny frail body being wracked with seizures as the veil being torn down had adverse effects, she was dying, even at three and a half years old she understood that. She remembered her parents talking, something about a way to save her, but then there was nothing but dreams.

The last image that came to her mind was her father holding hands with her mother, both smiling down on her, the sun was warm on her face and she was safe. It was like walking into a fog, she slowly became aware of being in a bed, in a room. Slowly became aware that she was somewhere else, her body felt different, it ached like she'd been hit with a ton of bricks, but also frail like she hadn't been using her muscles in awhile. The more she became aware, the more panic set in, where was she, what was going on, where were her parents, where was daddy.

Dad, DAD, where are you?! DAAAAD!!!!! She yelled out, hoping someone would hear her, hoping her dad would come and tell her everything was going to be OK.

Morrigan had finished the ritual; and when she confirmed her daughter was alive... she had removed any trace of Loghain from their home. Asha was left in her brother's care, because Morrigan took her lover home to the Wilds. Though this place had not been his home; it had been hers. And she was most familiar with the teachings of the Chasind. Flemeth had never taught the Chantry beliefs to her. And she had no wish to know that religion. Though, in actuality, she shold have learned after meeting Loghain. They'd never talked about their belief systems; she had no idea if he followed the Chantry.

She knew he'd followed her, though. He'd trusted her to guide him through his Calling; had used his death for something more. The girl was alive; his girl. But that did not change the fact, that once she was alone in the Wilds, after he was ash in a small urn, she sobbed.

Under the quickly darkening sky, with just moonlight, the Witch of the Wilds cried. She  wanted to find a way to help him; she'd promised that he'd die on her terms—and she had many more years of life ahead of her.

Some part of her was bitter and jaded; he'd loved their daughter more than he'd loved her. He hadn't—though he was gone, this was the path they'd picked after every other ritual failed. After every idea she had to save the girl had no effect.

She'd told him this was a last-ditch effort; had asked if he wanted to die that way. 'It's a better death than I deserve. I've lived mine.' She could still feel his touch on her cheek, as he told her that he'd been happy.

Morrigan had returned his ashes to the Temple of the Twins, deep in the Wilds. She'd taken the trip by foot. Another day passed, as she trekked out of the Wilds. Another letter sent; this time to Anora. He'd written it, she'd not read it.

A letter for their daughter, tucked into her pocket; another one in her hand. She'd written one, explaining the circumstances in very practical, rational words. He'd written another. She'd not read that one, either.

And as she left the Wilds to return to Amaranthine, she was colder, harsher than she had been before. And she wore a small bracelet of glass beads; his ashes.

The room was loud, as she stepped out of the eluvian. Asha. She moved to sit on the head of the bed, Kieran was nowhere to be seen; she wondered where he'd run off to.

Your Father had his Calling. Just as emotionless as one might expect; no outward signs that she was as distraught as the girl in front of her. He's gone.

Even as a three-year-old Asha had always understood that she was closer to her father than she'd been to her mother. Not that she didn't love Morrigan, with all her little heart, but she'd just been more of a daddy's girl, and her personality had been that which Morrigan didn't fully understand, they were like night and day, oil and water. Still, hearing her voice, having her mother being with her on the bed, made some of the panic subside, at least until Morrigan opened her mouth and spoke.

Gone, that couldn't be possible, he couldn't just be gone. It had to be a mistake, but then her mother was saying it so it couldn't be, her mother was many things, but she wouldn't lie to her daughter about something like this. As the words sunk in, tears came to her face, she still wasn't sure she completely understood what the calling was, but she'd heard her parents talking about it before.

I don't understand, I mean I've heard you guys talk about whatever this calling was, but, why does everything feel like it's a million miles away, what's happening, I just...I don't understand.... In some ways she was processing things a bit like a four-year-old, which she technically was, but her time in the dreams had given her a different understanding of the world, a more mature one, and she wasn't fully balanced the two sides of herself yet.

Morrigan was quiet in the face of the girl's emotions. Uncertain around emotions; almost unwilling to learn how to handle the childs feelings. Kieran had been an easier child, raised in his mother's shadow.

You were in a coma—sick. The Veil between the worlds has been removed. It caused a lot of mages to die. Flat. Even. Calculated.

She held out another bracelet. Quiet. Studying the child. She'd taken care with this bracelet, the beads were still his ash, but she had managed to give it color. A light pink. She thought her daughter might like that. We had his funeral, already. I thought... you'd want to keep him with you, too. It was the only moment that her voice wavered.

Coma, she wasn't even sure she understood what a coma even was, but the stuff about the veil and mages dying struck a chord. Flashes of worried parents hovering over her, being too sick to stand up, but trying to remember what people had said was a haze. Was her memory effected by the coma, was that why she felt different and couldn't remember why. The dreams she'd had trickled in to her conscious memory, no that can't be, he can't be dead. She grew up, he was there, her father was there.

She pushed her mother's hand away.

I don't even know what that is, it doesn't make sense, dad was alive, you guys raised me, I grew up. I don't understand how he's not here now, he just was, before I woke up he was here. Her coma brain had spun such lovely tales for her, a happy family, picture perfect. A father alive and well, the truth was a hard pill to swallow and she just wasn't accepting the cold hard facts. To her thirteen years had passed and she'd been awake for all of it, now her mother was telling her that she'd been in a coma, how could that be.

As her hand was pushed away, she chewed her lip, and clutched the beaded bracelet tightly in her palm. He's gone, Asha'bellanar. The sooner you accept this fact, the better. Harsh. Not intending to be. But that's how she came across. '

I'm... sorry, that I could not save him. With those words, she held the bracelet out again, forcefully. How the hell was she supposed to parent a child she didn't know?

Even in Asha's made up dream world, her mother wouldn't say something if it wasn't true, she wouldn't lie about something like this. As the grogginess slowly wore off, as reality slowly set in, it had to all be true. Tears slide down her cheeks, though she didn't sob, she was trying to be strong, despite the fact that she felt like she was free falling off a cliff.

I....I'm sorry mom..... She tentatively held out her hand for the bracelet and made a fist around it as she took it. The last piece of her father, tears continued to stream down her face, but she didn't sob, she wanted to be strong for her mother, it couldn't have been easy going through. It wasn't like her parents never fought, but she always knew they loved each other, they just fit together somehow. Th...Thank you. She wiped her eyes and tried to stop crying, but then a question came to her.

I was in a coma.... how long was I asleep?

Morrigan brushed her fingers through the girl's hair, About a year. It's the only thing they know about that time; nothing she had done to wake the child had worked. Nothing she'd done to stop the aging had worked.

A year, a whole freaking year, Asha tried to wrap her head around it. It felt like such a long time, yet in her mind it felt like it had been even longer. Why do I remember growing up? If I was just in bed in a coma for a year, I have all these memories, these vivid, vivid, memories.

Morrigan studied the girl, shaking her head slowly. You were... affected by the magic, causing rapid aging. That could be why. As your body aged, so did your mind, and from there this fantasy dream.

There was a part of Asha that wished Morrigan did not know why, that she was just as confused as Asha was, but then another part of her felt relief that Morrigan had an explanation to offer, as crazy as it sounded, which was pretty fucking crazy.

I guess that makes sense. So her dad was dead. She was now a teenager even though a year ago she had been a toddler, and the world was basically tits up. Then again, this was Thedas. Even as a little kid, she understood enough about the world to know it was a scary place with something always going wrong. Mom? Thank you for explaining everything to me. I'm uh, I'm kinda hungry. Do you think we could raid the kitchen? Does Uncle Cullen still bake and things? Food, food would fix how she was feeling, she was sure of it.

Morrigan flashed a slight smile, as the girl called her 'mom'. Though she didn't feel like a 'mom'. She felt like a stranger. Asha was a stranger. But she still smiled.

Yeah, Cullen still bakes. Let's go?

Asha jumped out of bed, feeling at least mildly better. She still felt the sting of finding out her dad was dead, but she was also famished. Which made sense since she'd been in a coma for nearly a year. Her muscles were slightly wobbly but the magic that had aged her had also kept her muscles much stronger than that of a normal person in a coma for a year. She just felt like the room was a bit whirly for a few moments. 

Yea let's go!!!