30 Days with Noah | ✔

Day 19 - Dogma

Char: Noah, surprise

30 Days of Noah

Dogma

(noun)

a principle or set of principles laid down by an authority as incontrovertibly true

He didn't know why, but he always had the uneasy feeling of being watched. True, it had been there since the start of his misadventures of being Herald, but the feeling had gone away when he'd been given the title of Inquisitor. Now, the feeling was back and it was even worst than before.

Noah sighed as he sat aside the reports for the day. He placed them in the edge of his desk, barely containing the urge to toss them behind him and forgot about them forever. He hated doing reports. He thought that Josephine would handle all the reports. Boy, was he sadly mistaken.

With an exhausted sigh, Noah pushed away from his desk and dragged himself to the balcony. He leaned against the railing and sighed. Night had fallen. There weren't many outside but there were guards on the battlement. Come to think of it, there were more than he would normally see walking about. He'd have to ask Cullen about that later.

The feeling of being watched crashed over him so suddenly, he almost fell over the balcony. He scanned over the hold, trying to figure who had been watching him and why. From what he could see, no one was looking up at him or even in his general direction.

Noah sighed and walked back into his room, groaning when he noticed Cullen walking up the steps. "What is it now, Commander?" Noah asked followed by an exasperated sigh.

Cullen paused at the top of the stairs, seemingly thinking whether he should continue on with whatever he came up there to do. He chose to continue, much to Noah's chagrin.

"You've been getting strange letters," Cullen said. Noah frowned as the ex-templar walked farther into the room. He stood in front of his desk and placed a pile of scrolls on his desk. Noah walked over and picked one of them up and glared up at Cullen.

"Don't tell me you've been reading and withholding my mail," Noah growled. Cullen raised his hands in surrender.

"I admit fully to this, but this is not because of the same reasons Josephine does."

"I don't care. You people need to give things addressed to me to me! What if there was something important that I needed to know but-"

"Inquisitor, these letters were of a threatening nature. I withheld them so I could figure out who was sending them." Cullen's brow furrowed. He gestured to the desk full of reports. "I did not want to add this on top of everything else you've been busy with."

"Is that why there are so many extra guards?" Noah asked with a frown. Now he understood. That still didn't explain the feeling...well it did. Someone obviously was stalking him and probably wanted him dead. But, what else was new? He was an elf in power, he was pretty sure half of Thedas wanted him dead.

"Yes, this is why," Cullen said. He sighed and crossed his arms. "We were trying to keep this from you, but it would seem like we need to involve you to figure out who this person or persons are. The last letter that came in was written completely in elven. We had Solas translate it and it still did not make sense." Cullen picked up one of the letters that were tied with an orange ribbon. Something on that ribbon caught Noah's eye, though. It was the seal embroidered on it. It was of a large tree with four thick, flowering, branches shooting up. It was surrounded by a circle.

"Clan Aeradhen's seal..." Noah mumbled under his breath.

"Your old clan? I thought you said they were dead." Cullen frowned as he watched the elf's face slowly drain of color.

"Could I...be alone?" Noah asked in a breathy whisper. Cullen hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"If you should need me, you know where to find me." Cullen nodded once more before taking his leave. As soon as Noah heard Cullen close the door, he walked back to the balcony and closed it. He frowned. The feeling of being watched hadn't gone away like he thought it would have after closing the doors. He stepped away from the doors in time to see a thin blue veil cover the entire wall in front of him. He would have spun around to see who did it but felt a sharp prick a the back of his neck.

"Don't move," the voice said. The voice was deep, but not gravely so. It had a light lilt to it and a deep lisp, but the accent let Noah know the person was an elf. A Dalish one. Noah felt dread settle in the pit of his stomach. That feeling he'd been having for days seemed to be in connection with the letters his advisors had refused to show him. Now the reason for his unease and the author of these letters were standing behind him with a dagger to his neck. Go figure.

Noah slowly raised his hands in surrender. "What do you want?"

"Don't fucking talk! Walk with me." The voice was nothing but a low snarl in his ear. Noah didn't verbally respond. He walked backwards with the man. The man grabbed his arm and maneuver him so his back was towards the bed and he was in front.

Noah's eyes quickly looked over the man. He was about the same height as Noah, probably a couple centimeters shorter. He was wearing a red mask that completely concealed his face— even his eyes were covered. The shapes and line of the mask suggested it was a dragon's face. His clothes...they were a battlemage's attire. He was wearing a heavy, black cloak which hid his hair and most of the mask. His body was wrapped in light cloth, similar to Noah's under clothes, but was dyed a deep red. The long, trench coat over the light cloth was a hard, black leather. His arms were dressed in light, silver plating, as were his legs. Who was this man?

He was pushed on his back, the man needlessly pointing his dagger at him. He could have killed him with the snap of his fingers, he obviously didn't need this dagger.

"I was hired to kill you," the man spoke low. He sighed, sheathing his dagger on his side. He sat down next to Noah. "I could have killed you 50 times over. Your advisors are stupid...they don't even trust you to handle yourself. Your guards are even stupider."

"Then why didn't-" Noah was interrupted by a swift jab against his throat. He brought his hand up to his neck and choked. He narrowed his eyes at the man next to him.

"I said don't fucking talk!" The assassin hissed. He stood up in front of Noah. "Do you really want to know the reason why I didn't kill you?" The man took his glove off and ran a hand through Noah hair, loosening the bun to let the elf's hair cascade around his broad shoulders. "Do you really want to know why I didn't slit your fucking throat, even though I want to even more now that I know...?"

Noah nodded silently, still rubbing his sore throat.

"I was hired by the Crows to kill you, a contract from some dumbass in Orlais." The assassin chuckled humorlessly. "I did not notice I would know you when I got here." He let out a shaky sigh. "You reminded me of someone dear to me. Someone who used to be dear to me." He sighed again. "Someone I haven't seen since I was very young." He ran his hand gently through Noah's hair. "I thought it to be a simple reminder, but when I watched you...I knew...I knew that I couldn't kill you because you are family. If I remember anything from my Teachers in Vimmarkan, you do not kill another Aeradhen, no matter what."

The assassin took his mask off and sighed.

"I don't know if you remember my name, but...I am called Jorilamael." He looked up at Noah and Noah tensed. Burning emeralds stared into shocked peridots. "Hello, father. It has been awhile, hasn't it?"