Summary: Ivan is the Archon of the Tevinter Imperium, a country ruled by magocracy. Sadik is looking to increase his standing in the Tevinter senate, as a sign of goodwill between them he offers Ivan a slave, but not just any slave, this blue-eyed elven slave has been branded by pure, raw lyrium. RusAme

a/n: Yes, I know this is such a weird crossover, but since playing Dragon Age II I've been imagining America covered in lyrium tattoo's, just like Fenris. I won't be using any characters from the Dragon Age series, but I will be using their world. I'll try to explain certain terms from the Dragon Age world, so you don't have to play the game in order to understand the story.

"St-stop…" Sadik smiled at the boy.

"You know, you're so beautiful… In fact, I'm afraid that beauty may be your greatest fault, elf." His fingers gently brushed the elf's check, smearing tears and blood across the pale skin. His finger gently trailed along his face; stopping at the chapped-bloodied lips he loved so. "Alfred…"

He tensed at his name.

Sadik smiled. He loved this, loved the power he had over this slave. His slave.

His hand quickly grabbed Alfred's jaw, forcing the young elf to look him in the face. "You're mine!" he hissed, possessively. "Look at me!"

Alfred tried too, really he did, but his eyes… how was he expected to open them when they were so badly bruised, that he hadn't been able to see for days?

"… I can't…"

Sadik snarled, "You're not even trying." He forced Alfred's face higher, and with his other hand he forcefully pried open the puffy, bruised eyelid. Alfred could barely contain his screams of agony. Sadik laughed sadistically at seeing the diluted sapphire eye greet him.

Nobody would want him, nobody but himself.

"Beautiful," he whispered, looking longingly at his elf's sickly pale face. He pulled his hand away, and let the abused lid close. The whimper that escaped Alfred's mouth left Sadik feeling enraptured. His finger once again began lazily tracing out lines on his face. "I'm afraid I'm not done, in fact I haven't even begun. Believe me, elf, by the time I'm done branding you, you'll know what true pain is."

Alfred bit his lip, as his Master walked away. At least he assumed it was his Master, he was fairly positive that there was no one else besides him and his Master in the room. He tried to steel himself for what was to come, but he was tired, so very tired… Would his master finally let him rest, after he was done with his fun? He only hoped so.

He felt the danger he was in, before he knew what was wrong. He awoke with numb limbs, and a sore neck. The chains holding his body up were cutting the flow of blood. But none of that mattered, no, what he was feeling from outside his room was maddening. He gasped in realization.


"That's right," came the oppressive voice of his Master. He jerked his head to where he assumed his Master was. Sadik chuckled at his reaction. "I told you," he walked towards him, his breath gliding over Alfred's pointed ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "That I hadn't even begun the real fun."

The door opened, and while Alfred could not see, he knew without a doubt that what was entering the room was pure, raw lyrium. If he focused enough he could see the luminescent-blue of the lyrium ore through his bruised eyelids.

He licked his lips nervously as he tried to make sense out of this. Lyrium. Raw-fucking-lyrium. Why the hell was there lyrium here? Raw lyrium was dangerous, especially to mages, so why would his Master have raw lyrium?

Sadik watched in obvious glee as his slave tried to make sense of what was happening. It amused him to no end to toy with this particular slave. Alfred's emotions, Gods, he could barely control himself around him. The boy simply begged to be tortured. He was so obvious in his emotions, but the one emotion he refused his Master was the one Sadik desperately wanted. His screams.

The most he could get out of him were whimpers, oh, but how he loved those too. It seemed that those emotions were the only ones that the slave kept under tight wraps.

Sadik turned to the workers preparing his forge. Oh, yes. He was going to have fun, and Alfred was going to help. His research needed someone who could handle pain well, and no one handled it better than his blond slave.

As the forge was started up, Alfred was taken out of his thoughts. Heat, okay, so his Master was planning on melting the lyrium, but why? Alfred bit his lip, the taste of iron filling his mouth.

"Alfred." Sadik's hands griped the sides of Alfred's face. "You should feel honored. Today you will help me gain a higher standing in the Senate." Alfred tensed. He was going to help his Master? He couldn't help the chill that spread through his body.

"I know you've shown promise as a mage, but I will not allow you the chance of becoming an apprentice mage, no, what I have planned for you will make everyone in the Tevinter Imperium fear the name of Magister Sadik." He smiled, feeling the muscles beneath Alfred's face stiffen. "Alfred, I know you're not averse to tattoos, seeing as you have your Dalish tattoo so proudly displayed on your pretty elven face."

He leaned in, closing the remaining gap between Alfred and himself. He could feel the anger radiating from the boy. By the Gods, how he loved his emotions. "There's no need for such hostility, elf.
You're getting a new tattoo, feel honored."

Alfred growled, his fear turning to anger. His vallaslin were nothing to mock. They're sacred, damn it! He scrunched his face in thought, with things progressing the way they were, he wasn't sure if he would live the ordeal. Why not take the chance?"

"Vallaslin are nothing to mock, shemlen! How da—"

The hit was unexpected, and left Alfred shocked. Had Sadik hit him? No, Sadik liked to deal punishment with instruments, never with his bare hands…

"You'd best be silent, slave."

"Muhammad,"Sadik smiled. "You know you have to be careful, unlike the other subjects I'm really hoping that this one will live." Muhammad didn't respond, but he did wipe his hand on his clothes, a look of distaste on his face as he eyed Alfred.

"Are we going to begin, Sadik?" Sadik nodded, his finger caressing the wound on Alfred's cheek.

"Are you ready, Alfred?" he leaned closer, his mouth touching the stinging wound Muhammad had left on him. He kissed the wound tenderly, backing up to admire that confused face.

"You're special, Alfred. Do you believe that I would give you a common tattoo?" he clucked his tongue. "No, just like your vallaslin, this tattoo will be special. Who's ever heard of a tattoo made from pure, raw lyrium on the flesh of the living?"

"W-what?" he spluttered.

"Will you finally let me hear your screams, Alfred? I don't believe that you will be able to deny my request this time."

Alfred felt the heat of life leave his face. He couldn't be serious. Lyrium, on his skin?

"You can't!" he shouted. "If raw lyrium touches a mage it will kill him, if you haven't noticed, I can use magic, you'll kill me!"

"Ah,ah,ah," Sadik waved a finger lazily at him. "You'll live. Your magic is different; it's not like those in the Tevinter Imperium, it's not like mine. Perhaps it has to do with your Elven blood…" he looked thoughtfully at Alfred.

"Regardless, it shouldn't affect you too much. "

Alfred couldn't see him, but he knew that Muhammad was moving things while he spoke with his Master. A coil of dread pooled in his stomach. He could feel it moving near him.

"Don't. It's not humane."

A laugh, and then the last words he would remember as he was engulfed in flames. "You're not human, Alfred."

His screams filled the mansion, the searing heat of the liquid lyrium branding his skin. He could vaguely pick up the scent of burnt skin, his own skin he realized. Laughter, why was there so much laughter? Who was laughing? It sounded crazed, was it Sadik, his Master did always want to hear his cries of pain…

He opened his mouth only to realize that he was the one laughing. Mad, I'm going mad. Tears leaked from his eyes.

He gasped, his blood, it was seeping everywhere; he could feel it mixing with the lyrium on his body. He couldn't die, he refused to die… he was Dalish, the last of the Elvhenan—Gods, the pain— never again would he submit.

a/n: Well here is the first chapter hoped you guys enjoyed it. I know, what's up with the Turkey/America pairing, don't worry America will be joining Russia in the next chapter, so, yeah.

Lyrium: Lyrium is a valuable but dangerous mineral. Physical contact with the raw ore will cause serious injury and psychological problems for humans or elves and will kill mages outright.

Tevinter Imperium: The Tevinter Imperium is a nation in Thedas ruled by a powerful magocracy. The leaders of the Imperium are called magisters, and are led by the Imperial Archon.

Magister: A magister is one of the ruling mageocrats of the Tevinter Imperium.

Dalish: Dalish elves lead nomadic lives, wandering throughout Thedas. The clans date back to the ruling clans of the Dales and the Dalish themselves are their descendants

Vallaslin: When the children of our people came of age, they earn the privilege of wearing the vallaslin, the blood writing. It sets us apart from the shemlen, and from the elves who have thrown their lot in with them. It reminds us that we will never again surrender our traditions and beliefs.

Shemlen: Literally "quick children". The original name of the elves for the human race.

Elvhenan: Place of our people. The name of the elven civilization before the arrival of humans in Thedas. Also could be translated as: "Our hearts".