Chapter Text
Aranehn hissed as the pain wracked through her body. The lashing she had received today was going to kill her, she was certain of it, but she had to make it long enough to get some things together. There was very little she had to her name, as a slave, but she was a mother, and by the Creators, she was going to get her daughter out of this accursed place. Aranehn grit her teeth and pulled out the materials she had managed to smuggle after her punishment, and she began to write.
To whoever finds this,
I know I am not long for this world, but I am a mother, and I must ensure the safety of my child. Her name is Telahn, and as of yesterday, she is three years old. It is a blessing to me that she has been allowed to live this long, but if I should die, I fear my master will kill her, as well. He only let her live this long because he saw her as an opportunity for a free new slave. My mistakes may cause him to view her as a drain rather than an investment.
I make no demands to raise her as a Dalish elf as I once was, but I beg of you, please do not let her fall into slavery. Please give her a chance to live free.
Aranehn carefully placed the letter beside the blankets and rags that served as her bed. She hurriedly gathered a small pack and roused the small child beneath one of the worn blankets.
“Telahn. It’s time to wake up, da’len,” she said, helping her daughter sit up. She pressed the small pack of Telahn’s few clothes into the child’s arms, and grabbed the letter. She made sure it was dry before folding it up and pressing the note into her daughter’s hands. “Whatever happens, do not lose this, Telahn. Can you promise me that?” Telahn nodded seriously, staying silent.
Aranehn grabbed her daughter’s hand, and led her out of the room, careful not to wake up any of the other slaves in the room. She led Telahn through the winding halls silently.
Viago slunk through the halls, following the planned escape route to the letter. This contract had been exceedingly easy so far, even if it was only his second contract as a full Crow. He had slipped the poison into the Tevinter bastard’s supper easily, and was making his way out of the building without incident, so far. He should have taken it as a sign that something was about to happen, his life was never so simple.
He made his first mistake unfortunately quickly, and it was what lead to his second. The sound of footsteps was what had alerted him first, then the quiet drip of something slightly viscous hitting the ground. He assessed the situation quietly. There was only one set of footsteps, from what he could tell, likely a slave on their way out of their quarters. He ducked into a dark hallway that branched out, waiting for the footsteps to pass him. When they stopped instead, he pressed himself further into the shadows. He was not expecting the sound of a child’s voice whispering tentatively, “Mama?”
That was when he made his second mistake. He gasped. He heard the adult’s footsteps get closer, and it was only once they were both within eyesight that he was able to hear the soft patter of the child’s footsteps. He mentally cursed himself as he reassessed the situation in front of him. It was an elven woman and a child who was so obviously hers that even a blind man could see it. They both had the same wavy, orange hair and soulful purple eyes. The woman was covered in open wounds, and he could tell that they had come from a severe lashing. She wouldn’t last very long.
Those soulful purple eyes began to fill with tears, and the woman dropped to her knees, still holding her daughter’s hand.