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pikapeppa · 4 years

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Felassan/f!Lavellan: The Love That Grows From Violence, Chap 2

The second chapter of Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan is up on AO3! (It was since yesterday, too, but I guess I’ll crosspost everything here anyway.

The first chapter (the prologue) is here on Tumbles.

~5100 words; read on AO3 instead.

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Kirkwall, one year after the Exalted Council...

Varric handed Tamaris a set of keys. “All right, here it is. Home sweet home.”

Tamaris stared blankly at the mansion. It was… frankly, it was huge. And fancy. Two gold-plated Orlesian lion statuettes flanked the front door, which was carved with an elaborate pattern of fleur-de-lis. The windows were made of elaborate stained glass that would make a Chantry sister envious, and she was fairly certain that the front door handle was made of gold. The outdoor fixtures alone must have cost a fortune, and she hadn’t even seen the interior of the house yet.

She shot Varric an incredulous look. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

He chuckled. “Nope. It’s yours. Your name is on the deed and everything.” He folded his arms. “I’ve kind of been waiting to see your face when you saw it.”

“Well, I hope my total sense of bemusement isn’t a disappointment,” she said. Honestly, she didn’t know how Varric expected her to live in this place. She was used to aravels and tents, for fuck’s sake. Moving to Skyhold had been a stretch for her, and Skyhold at least was a functional fortress as well as being a huge grand castle.

This mansion, on the other hand, looked totally frivolous. Tamaris could only hope that it was less gaudy on the inside than the outside.

She hefted her travelling pack onto her shoulder and unlocked the door. She took one step into the house and stopped dead in disbelief.

The floor was shiny rose marble with gold veins, and the wallpaper was cream silk with gold stripes. As Tamaris slowly made her way through the foyer into the main room, she wrinkled her nose; the fireplace, the staircase bannister, the chandelier hanging from the ceiling: all of it was gold.

She unceremoniously dropped her pack on the floor. “Varric, you’re not serious,” she complained.

He laughed again. “Trust me, Cuddles, this is restrained for an Orlesian mansion in Hightown. Orlesians who settle here think they need to remind us that they’re not from here. As if we could ever forget.” He patted the fireplace. “Don’t worry, you can get it all redone. Tear out the floors, maybe put in some sod so you can pretend you’re in a forest or something?”

Tamaris snorted. “Should I set up a ritual circle too, for the evil Dalish child sacrifices that I perform every other week?”

“You could,” Varric said wryly. “Just don’t tell our Captain of the Guard. She tends to get a little antsy about blood magic here. Well, we all do, really.”

Tamaris looked at him. He was smiling, but it only now just occurred to her how she must sound.

She sighed. “Varric, I’m sorry. I’m being an ungrateful bitch. This is… I mean, you gave me a fucking house. This is really nice of you. Even if it’s the gaudiest house in Thedas.”

He snorted a laugh, and Tamaris gave him a rare smile. “I mean it. This is really kind. Thank you.”

He waved her off. “Ah, don’t worry about it. And you don’t have to apologize. I’m used to moody elves, remember?”

“Right, right,” Tamaris said dryly. “Hawke’s husband and all that. Hey, you said her mansion was in Hightown too, right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Her uncle lives in it now, though. Hawke is off hunting slavers with Fenris or whatever it is that he’s doing.”

Tamaris nodded in acknowledgement, then looked idly around at the vaulted ceilings. Shit, this house was big. And empty.

Oh, there was furniture, sure: a big ugly carved dining table with matching chairs and a writing desk in this room, and some plush velvet sofas in the study to the left. But the house still felt so… empty. It was going to be so quiet living here all by herself. After spending the better part of the year doing contract work with Bull and the Chargers, Tamaris couldn’t decide if she was grateful or not for the impending quiet.

“So,” Varric said. “Do you want to hear the updates on the wolf hunt now, or do you want to settle in first?”

Solas. Her gut twisted unpleasantly, like the feeling of stepping into a pothole that you didn’t realize was there.

“Sure, let’s hear it,” she said. She rifled around in her bag with her mechanical left hand and pulled out a half-empty bottle of Rivaini rum. “Fancy a drink?”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll wait until it’s past noon.”

She shrugged and pulled the cork out of the bottle. “Suit yourself.” She took three big gulps, then shoved the cork back into the bottle and plopped down in one of the padded dining chairs. “All right, let’s hear it. I don’t suppose we’ve actually been lucky enough to find him.”

“Not yet,” Varric said. “A couple interesting leads, though. You actually got back just in time. Rhys and Evangeline are on their way here from the Hunterhorn Mountains. Should be arriving in the next day or two.”

Tamaris blinked. “Rhys and Evangeline? But I thought Cassandra needed them.”

“She does,” Varric said. “Their work at the Tranquil sanctuary has been going pretty smoothly so far. But they recently had someone staying with them who, uh, might be interesting for you to meet.”

That’s cryptic, Tamaris thought. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I’m listening.”

Varric leaned casually against the fireplace. “An elf with Dalish tattoos,” he said. “Only he says he isn’t Dalish. And he says he knows Solas.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, from… before.”

Tamaris’s eyebrows shot up. Then she folded her arms. “Uh-huh. And we don’t think he’s full of shit because…?”

“Tranquil don’t lie,” Varric said. “He told Cassandra about Solas before they reversed his Tranquility.”

Tamaris narrowed her eyes appraisingly. Then she straightened. “Hang on. You said… Are Rhys and Evangeline are bringing him here?”

Varric nodded, and Tamaris stared at him. “Varric, that’s insane. Solas definitely has spies in Kirkwall. This is the last place in Thedas that someone who knew Solas from before should be coming.”

Varric grimaced. “Well… Cassandra wanted you to go to the sanctuary instead. But we, uh, had some trouble getting in touch with you…”

Tamaris rubbed her forehead guiltily. Going off to mindlessly do a bunch of contracts with Bull and his company had been a selfish move, and Tamaris knew it. But the whole Exalted Council incident had been just… so much fucking bullshit, with the qunari attack and the Shattered Library and the crossroads and Solas.

Fucking Solas. Fucking Fen’Harel.

A year later, the truth still chafed. Tamaris had always known there were things he wasn’t telling her, and it had always grated at her nerves. Even during the moments when he was at his sweetest, it had always felt like there was some undercurrent of subtext behind his affectionate words. But Tamaris had never imagined that his lies were so spectacular.

Only by omission, he’d said, but in Tamaris’s opinion, that only made it worse. That he’d been so careful to omit things — so careful to stick to the truth without telling the most important parts of it…

She could feel her ears getting hot with anger. Varric stepped a little closer to her. “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “Rhys and Evangeline are used to travelling incognito, and apparently the mystery elf is too. No reason to think they won’t make it here safe and sound.”

She took another gulp of rum, then placed the bottle back on the table. “Fine. A mysterious former friend of Solas’s is coming to pay me a visit. Anything else?”

Varric eyed her warily, then sat in a chair beside her. “How about a hand of wicked grace?”

Tamaris lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t have to coddle me, you know.”

“I’m not,” Varric said. “I’m trying to avoid Bran, really. You’re doing me a favour by showing up here so early in the day.” He pulled a pack of cards out of his coat pocket and began shuffling them.

She scoffed and propped her dirty bare feet up on the pristine table. “All right, since I’m doing you a favour.” They played wicked grace for a couple of hours, and by the time Varric finally got up to leave, Tamaris was nicely buzzed.

She lazily followed Varric to the door. “Can I swing by your office later? See how tightly the Viscount of Kirkwall runs his ship?”

“Sure,” Varric said. He opened the door and smirked up at her. “Or tomorrow, or whenever.”

She leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were ashamed of my drunken ass.”

“Not ashamed,” Varric said. “Just a little concerned, that’s all.”

She shrugged. There was no point denying that she wasn’t really okay. “I’m probably not the most stabilizing influence for a newly de-Tranquilized mage at the moment,” she said baldly.

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” Varric said. “You’ll be good for him, probably. You’ve got a knack for this kind of thing.”

“What, dealing with hysterical people?” she said sarcastically.

“Yeah, actually,” Varric said.

Tamaris scoffed and looked away. “Lucky me.”

“Let me know if you want to talk,” Varric said casually. “That’s all I’m saying.”

She shrugged again. “I probably won’t,” she replied. “If you want to hit me with a stick Bull-style, though, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass,” he said dryly. “Hey, I should have asked — this arm’s doing okay by you, huh?” He tapped her mechanical arm.

“Yeah, it’s great,” she said. “The lyrium powers it perfectly.” She flexed her arm and fingers to demonstrate. “I wrote Dagna a couple months ago to thank her, but you should let Bianca know it works almost as well as my real hand.”

Varric smiled. “I will. See you later.” He started to walk away, then paused and turned back. “Hey, I should have said. It’s, uh. It’s good to have you back.”

Tamaris managed a smile. “Thanks. It’s… well, it’s good to see you.”

He nodded understandingly, then gave her a little salute before taking his leave. Tamaris tottered back inside of her gaudy house, then toppled onto one of the big fat couches and fell fast asleep.

When she woke up a few hours later, it was with a raging headache, a stomach cramping from hunger, and a very dry mouth. She gulped down some water, then strapped a couple of daggers to her belt and put on her cloak. She pulled up the hood — more to shelter her pounding eyes from the lingering rays of the early evening sun than to hide her identity. She didn’t much care if anyone knew she was in Kirkwall, especially since she’d been out of the loop all this time and had no interesting contacts here aside from Varric. If Solas’s spies wanted to give him the useless information that she was here, they could fucking feel free.

Even so, she wasn’t particularly keen to be spoken to. So instead of leaving through the front door, she made her way up the stairs and into the first bedroom on the left.

She raised her eyebrows appreciatively when she opened the door; the bedroom decor was a Free Marcher style instead of Orlesian, and way more simple and plain than the rest of the house. Varric must have set this bedroom up just for her.

She smiled faintly, then headed for the window and pushed it open. After a careful peek into the alley to discern that no one was looking, she slipped out of the window and quickly climbed up the brick wall to the roof.

Once she was on the roof, she breathed a sigh of relief. The air was fresher up here, and the openness of the sky was frankly a relief. From up here, she could clearly see the shifting shades of the sky as the sun started to set, and she could almost pretend that she was on the shores of Hercinia admiring the sky instead of on the roof of a noisy city.

She drew another deep lungful of air, then began making her way to the Lowtown market via the rooftops. She made it to the market unnoticed and bought herself enough food for three days, then returned to her house using back alleys so no one would talk to her, and the furtive journey was challenging enough with the added weight of her bags to distract her from her headache.

Once she’d returned to her house, she immediately went back up to the roof with her indulgent supper of fish and chips. She spent the next little while on the roof watching the sun sink down behind the squat buildings of Lowtown. When it started getting dark and her thoughts started darkening to match, she moved over to the edge of the roof so she could watch the people below instead of the sky above.

She dangled her feet carelessly over the edge of the roof; no one ever looked up, so no one would see her anyway. She reached into the pocket of her vest and pulled out a slender joint and a matchbook, then lit the joint and took a deep drag.

The sweet-and-bitter smoke filled her mouth, and she held it for a few leisurely seconds before releasing it to the cool evening air. And as usual in the evenings when she had nothing else to do, she started mulling over her mistakes and failings of the past.

First and foremost, as always, was Solas. Was there anything she could have done to stop him when they’d been together? Should she have realized sooner that he was from an earlier age? Solas wasn't the only concern, though; the news about the qunari’s activities on the Tevinter coastline were frankly alarming, and Tamaris couldn't help but wonder if she should have foreseen that as well. She and her companions might have stopped the Viddasala from killing the leadership of Thedas during the Exalted Council a year ago, but had they really achieved anything if the qunari were attacking Tevinter so aggressively now?

Another huge concern was where the fuck the Grey Wardens were. Tamaris had thought she was doing the right thing by sending them to Weisshaupt until Corypheus was gone, but there had been no word of them since then, and their silence made her wonder whether sending them away had been a good idea after all. Solas certainly approved of her action, but in truth, Tamaris had never been clear on exactly why he’d approved. Even now, after what he’d told her about the Evanuris and the Veil, she still didn’t understand why he got so irate about the Grey Wardens.

Solas, she thought moodily. Her thoughts cycled back to wondering if she should have foreseen his betrayal during the time that they’d been lovers. She smoked her joint slowly and mulled over her gloomy thoughts, and all the while she was watching the streets below for anything strange.

It wasn’t until late that night that something caught her eye: a pair of figures, one tall and slim and the other shorter and a bit more broad. They were cloaked and moving quietly along Hightown’s largely silent streets, but not sticking to the shadows.

Humans, she thought. Only humans walked around at night with that much confidence. But these humans were being quiet and subtle, so they didn’t want to be noticed.

She peered more carefully at them, and that’s when she noticed the signature style of the shorter figure’s gauntlets. A Templar, she thought, and she relaxed slightly. It must be Rhys and Evangeline. But where was their former Tranquil companion, then?

She narrowed her eyes and scanned the streets; no one else was around. Curious now, Tamaris waited until the two cloaked people were closer – not so close that they were under her, but close enough that they could hear her.

She let out a low whistle, and the cloaked figures looked up sharply; sure enough, it was Rhys and Evangeline.

Rhys smiled at her, and Evangeline visibly relaxed. “Lady Lavellan,” she called out quietly. “What are you doing up there?”

“Skulking, obviously,” Tamaris replied. “Nobody ever looks up.”

“You’re right,” a man’s voice said behind her. “They don’t.”

Tamaris was on her feet with a dagger in hand before he finished speaking. But even before she could turn around to face him, a spill of goosebumps was rippling down her neck. The voice was unfamiliar to her, but the accent…

It was like Solas’s accent. Not exactly the same, but close enough to Solas’s smooth lilt that it gave her a chill of recognition.

The former Tranquil, she thought tensely. She eyed the stranger in silence for a moment. He was a tall elf, barefoot and cloaked and apparently unarmed, and he was leaning languidly against one of the chimneys with a smirk lifting the corners of his lips.

“It’s all right,” Rhys called from the ground below. “He’s with us.”

“You don’t say,” Tamaris retorted.

The former Tranquil’s smirk widened slightly, and Tamaris raised an eyebrow before restoring her dagger to the sheath at her hip. “It’s your lucky day,” she told him. “I’ve decided not to gut you on the spot for sneaking up on me.”

“Very gracious of you,” he said with a little half-bow.

She eyed him suspiciously. His words were polite enough, but his tone was faintly mocking.

She pursed her lips, then started toward the side of the roof that led back to the bedroom window. “Come on, then,” she said to the strange elf. “If you’re bringing trouble to my doorstep, I might as well roll with it.” She swung down from the edge of the roof and back into the window, then made her way through the bedroom without waiting to see if he was following her.

He was, of course; if he was nimble enough to sneak up on her via the roof, he was nimble enough to follow her back through the window. He chuckled as he followed her out of the bedroom. “And what a doorstep it is,” he said. “A fan of gold, are you?”

She scoffed and traipsed down the stairs. “Hardly. This house was a gift from a dwarf with an overdeveloped sense of humour.”

“My kind of dwarf,” the elf said.

She shot him an odd look, then paused in surprise at the bottom of the stairs. She’d just realized something odd about his appearance. He had vallaslin branching across his cheekbones and his forehead, but it wasn’t the marks on his face that surprised her per se; it was the lack of a particular kind of mark.

He didn’t have a scar on his forehead from the Templars’ lyrium brand. But Varric had said he was a Tranquil…?

He raised his eyebrows. “Something I can do for you?”

“Um,” she said distractedly. “Let me just…” She nodded at the front door, then went to open it for Evangeline and Rhys.

She stood back to let them in, then gestured at the dining table with its padded chairs. “Have a seat. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, but we should get going,” Rhys said.

“Yes,” Evangeline agreed. “We don’t want to linger in Kirkwall for too long. And Lady Cassandra requires our services.”

Tamaris raised her eyebrows. “But — wait, you just got here. I don’t think Cassandra would begrudge you a night’s rest.”

“Of course,” Evangeline said. “But we are anxious to return to our duties as well. For now, Rhys remains the only mage at the sanctuary who can safely guide the spirits through the Veil. We can’t cure any more Tranquil until he has returned.”

Rhys let out a little laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m hardly the fulcrum of this whole operation,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be so modest, cher,” Evangeline said firmly. “In any case, we should be going.”

Tamaris held up a hand. “Hang on. You’re not going to explain anything to me before you go? For example: who the fuck is he, exactly?” She jerked her thumb at the raven-haired elf, who had availed himself of one of the dining table chairs.

He gave her a charming smile. “I was wondering when you’d remember I was here. Don’t worry, I’m not offended. There’s something quite powerful about being forgotten, under the right circumstances.”

Tamaris narrowed her eyes at this cryptic remark, and Rhys smacked his forehead. “Maker, I’m sorry, Tamaris. This is Felassan. He came from — well, the whole story will probably be more coherent if you hear it from him, which is why we accompanied him here, obviously.”

She eyed Rhys skeptically. “And his whole story is good enough that you’re willing to leave him with me, even though he’s only been cured for…” She trailed off, then turned to Felassan. “How long have you been, um, back to yourself?”

He looked at Rhys. “It’s been, what? Three months?”

“That’s right,” Rhys said. “About three months.”

Tamaris raised her eyebrows. “It only takes three months for former Tranquil to become stable?”

“Oh, I’m not stable,” Felassan said cheerfully. “I can be quite volatile, unfortunately.”

Tamaris stared at him. She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Evangeline answered her unspoken question. “That’s true, unfortunately. Felassan is still getting… adjusted.”

“Adjusted?” Tamaris said warily. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning,” Felassan said, “that she had to neutralize me several times during our journey here. Not that I hold it against you,” he said pleasantly to Evangeline. “It’s been interesting, in fact. I never had a chance to see a Templar in action before.”

Evangeline nodded politely to him, but Tamaris wrinkled her nose in confusion. How was that possible? He’d been made Tranquil. He had to have seen a Templar in action before.

She didn’t have time to ask, however; Rhys and Evangeline were already making their way back to the door. She hurried after them. “So — so he’s… he’s supposed to just stay here with me, then.”

“That’s what Cassandra wanted, yes,” Rhys said.

Tamaris sighed. At least Rhys had the courtesy to sound apologetic. “And if he gets volatile? I suppose she was confident that I could just… handle it.”

“She was very confident,” Evangeline said.

Rhys smiled faintly. “I believe her words were something along the lines of ‘Tamaris has a special talent for highly charged situations such as this.’”

“Of course,” she muttered. “Well… I suppose I should thank you for bringing him here.”

“I think it will be worth your while, once you hear what he has to say,” Rhys said earnestly. “There’s a good reason we didn’t just send you a report.”

Tamaris pursed her lips. “If you say so. Well, travel safe.”

Rhys gave her a little salute and Evangeline bowed her head politely, and they took their leave. Tamaris sighed, then locked the door and returned to the dining table.

Felassan was sitting cross-legged on his chair and idly twirling a short length of wood in his fingers. Tamaris folded her arms and eyed him. “It sounds like I’m in for a good story, hm? Or a long one, at least.”

He quirked a brow. “I suppose that depends. Do you enjoy hearing tales of Fen’Harel?”

Fen’Harel. Fucking Solas, she thought bitterly. “I enjoy it as much as I enjoy lancing a boil,” she said snidely. “It’s distasteful but necessary, especially given… you know, everything.” She waved her hand in a vague gesture meant to encompass the entire world.

His ever-present smirk widened into a broad smile, and he let out a burbling laugh. “I think you and I will get along just fine, then.”

His laughter was knowing and playful at the same time, and she couldn’t decide if she liked the sound of it or not. She pursed her lips, then turned toward the kitchen. “You must be hungry. I’ll get you something.”

“I’ll join you,” he said, and he rose from the chair and tucked the piece of wood back inside of his cloak.

Tamaris raised her eyebrows, then shrugged and turned away. “Suit yourself. I thought you’d be tired, though. It’s a long way here from the Hunterhorn Mountains.”

“It is,” he confirmed. “A long and perilous journey, fraught with bandits and poor weather and the odd Tevinter refugee. Is that really what you want to talk about?”

“What do you mean?” Tamaris said. She opened a cupboard and pulled out an apple, then tossed it to him.

He caught it deftly. “I mean that I was brought here to speak with you about our… mutual friend. I assumed you would have questions.”

I suspect you have questions. Felassan’s words were almost an echo of the ones that Solas had greeted her with a year ago, and the memory made her curl her lip.

He lifted one dark eyebrow, and Tamaris carefully smoothed out her expression. “I would rather talk about you,” she said. “Like why you don’t have that fucked-up sunburst scar on your face, for example. Does the Tranquility cure involve removing that scar?”

He smiled slowly. “They mentioned that you were blunt. They weren’t wrong.”

Tamaris huffed, then opened the enchanted icebox and pulled out some hard Fereldan cheese. “Uh-huh. What else did they tell you about me?”

Felassan leaned back against the counter. “They said you can be aloof, sarcastic, and hard to crack. That you get things done through force of will more than charm.” His smile widened slightly. “They said that you allowed Empress Celene to be assassinated at the Winter Palace, and that you helped Briala to become the true power behind the throne.”

Tamaris shrugged. “They weren’t wrong about any of that.”

Felassan nodded and idly rolled the apple between his palms. “They also say that you are far more compassionate than you seem, and that you and Fen’Harel were lovers.”

She paused in her cutting of the cheese and gave him a hard look, but his expression was pleasantly neutral. He shrugged and took a bite of the apple. “I don’t blame you,” he said through his full mouth. “He’s undeniably compelling.”

Tamaris stared at him for a moment longer, then continued cutting the cheese. “You didn’t answer my question. Why don’t you have a scar on your forehead?”

Felassan made an apologetic face. “If you were hoping to talk about something other than Fen’Harel, I’m afraid you’re taking the wrong tack.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He idly flicked the side of his half-eaten apple. “I mean that it wasn’t that delightful Templar order that made me Tranquil,” he said. “It was him.”

Tamaris went still. “It… what?”

He looked up from the apple and met her eyes, and her belly jolted. For the first time since they’d met, his expression was utterly serious. There wasn’t even a hint of laughter in his strange amethyst-coloured eyes.

“Fen’Harel made me Tranquil,” Felassan said.

She stared breathlessly at him. Solas had made him Tranquil? No. No, that... it couldn’t be true. Solas abhorred the idea of Tranquility. He’d initially thought all the people of her time were Tranquil, and his horror at this misguided impression had fuelled his original plans to bring the Veil down on all of them. There was no way Solas would have done something so terrible to someone.

But Felassan looked so serious, and he had no reason to lie to her. And Solas had told her that he would see his plans to fruition, by any means necessary…

Her heart was pounding, and she couldn't tell if it was because of agitation or disgust or fear. She swallowed hard. “Felassan, I am so sorry,” she said. “Do you want a drink?”

His expression went slack for a moment. Then some of his usual humour returned to his face. “That’s… not the response I expected.”

“Glad I’m still capable of surprising people sometimes,” she said. “Do you want a drink or not?”

He chuckled. “I do. Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said. She carefully placed his impromptu meal of cheese and bread on a plate, then picked up a bottle of cider and headed back to the main room with the dining table. “So, Felassan. That’s a strange name. Who decided to call you a slow arrow?”

“I did, as a matter of fact,” he said wryly.

She raised her eyebrows and set the food on the table before taking a seat. “Why would you call yourself that?”

He sat in the chair beside her and studied her quietly for a moment, and she lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

“This is truly what you want to talk about?” he asked.

She wilted in exasperation. “Cassandra might not have told you this, but I hate small talk. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t actually want to know. If you don’t want to answer the question, just say so.”

A smile lit his face again, and Tamaris idly noted that he was quite handsome. His hair was as black as her own unruly waves, and probably about half as long if he were to unbind it from its leather wrap. A few faint wrinkles creased his tawny skin, giving the impression that he was maybe ten to fifteen years older than her, but his dimpled smile held a boyish sense of mischief. And then there were his unusual and luminous violet eyes.

She dropped his gaze and started peeling the wax seal off of the bottle of cider. “So? Are you going to tell me about your name or not?”

“I wouldn't dare to turn down my gracious hostess’s request,” he said. “But I have to warn you, our dear friend Fen’Harel plays into the tale.”

Of course he does, Tamaris thought bitterly. It seemed like she could barely talk to anyone about anything these days without Solas coming up somehow.

She pulled the cork out of the bottle of cider, then took a gulp of the tart-and-sweet booze before offering it to him. “All right. Let’s hear it. Tell me about fucking Fen’Harel.”

#felassan #felassan fic #felassan romance #felassan/lavellan #felassan x lavellan #the love that grows from violence #pikapeppa writes

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crqstalite · 3 years

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after adamant.

ugly little fic that i wrote in the middle of the night a while ago and shared with a friend. post-adamant about my inquisitor trying to rationalize their losses at the fortress and in the fade. nothing’s capitalized, so if that annoys you, this isn’t the little fic for you.

chose not to use warnings? im not quite sure what to use here, so tread lightly.

dragon age inquisition.

she stays strong, after adamant it’s all everyone needs. she sees to the few wardens that had been at the keep, had offered inquisition aid. they thank her thousands of times over, as uneasy as they are.

their senior warden, alistair, won’t meet her eyes. deep brown orbs looking anywhere but at her, even with a smile on his face. he thanks her, quietly. bandages wrapped around his side, muttering that he’d need to get a letter out to the hero of ferelden — tabris.

she leaves him, offering to let leliana find her. to let leliana send the message and get it back to him as soon as possible. he agrees, numbly is when she swings a leg over the elk in the morning, sun peaking over the rise in the distance.

she knows that look that settles in his dark brown eyes, that look that cries it should’ve been me. but she’s sure he knows what he must do now, to lead the wardens properly against corypheus. she thanks him.

he doesn’t say it, but he does respond that hawke’s sacrifice would not be vain. that shatters a part of her, seals her lips all the way back to skyhold. thankfully, marzeyna is lucky enough no one else is in a talkative mood. but they will be, with questions, with reactions, maybe with thinly veiled anger.

she’s not sure if she’s lucky or simply being lied to when varric seems more despondent than furious with her. he simply responds there are letters to write, to bethany, to other friends she’d made in kirkwall. they’d been close. she bites her lip hard enough to draw iron laced blood to keep from crying.

he hugs her.

though he’s not mentioned, marzeyna doesn’t make the request to send a letter to the mage anders. though he will be left in the dark, surely varric would know how close they’d been. the way hawke spoke of him, with a wistful tone laced with uneasiness, she doesn’t want to look into his eyes and tell him she was the reason reyna hawke would not be coming home.

she makes her rounds. to cassandra, to blackwall, to dorian. then to the others who learning of it secondhand, to leliana, who’d been hurt over justinia. to sera, to bull, to vivienne, to solas, who was fascinated about her journey into the fade.

she doesn’t indulge him. any other day, she might’ve, but not today.

marzeyna has to put on a brave face when she’s nearly hit with what she assumes to be a lyrium kit when she visits cullen. to think she’d thought she’d get any miniscule amount of comfort from anyone after her return, she would’ve thought, just maybe, that it would be him. but no, her nerves are shot and she’s terrified and can’t think straight. she hasn’t slept since before adamant, doesn’t even want to think about dreaming in the fade. and yet, she’s able to give cullen the strength he needs to go on.

she wavers. her tiny form struggles to make it back to the war room after the moon has long risen in the sky. working, bent over the war table. they’d head out for the exalted plains in the morning. switch out her ground forces, get to work.

get her mind off the blonde woman that haunted her thoughts these days. piercing storm cloud eyes with dexterity over daggers that she’d never seen before. a determination to save mages from the templars that burned white hot within her, flames licking everyone she met.

her voice never wavering when she’d accepted her fate. a strong nod when she drew her daggers for the last time.

she shoves the knife meant for josephine’s diplomatic mission into the table deeper than she’d intended, grinding it into the table with a groan. her fire red hair falls into her face, her once tight ponytail loosening into a lump of curls at the base of her neck.

magic crackles at her fingertips, papers flying off the desk and fluttering to the floor. lelianna’s secrets, cassandra and solas’ requests, josephine’s agreements, cullen’s reports.

yanking off her gloves in front of the fire in her quarters, she grits her teeth when she can’t yank a swollen finger out of it’s respective sleeve. eyebrows knitting together in frustration, fire climbing her thoughts.

why hadn’t she been quicker? why hadn’t she forced them ahead with magic? she could’ve done something, done anything different. could’ve fade stepped them past the bastard. but no, she hadn’t done any of those things. she’d knowingly sent hawke to her death, not fought alongside her and alistair, but sent her away so she and alistair could get away.

the glove comes off, pain reverberating through her hand in waves. she kicks off her boots, the pair thumping away somewhere in the darkness.

she should be the one in the fade. running for her life, terrified in the darkness of the spiders she saw racing towards her. reliving nightmare after nightmare.

marzeyna was a mage. she could’ve handled it longer before she went mad. reyna was not, she was a young woman from kirkwall. a rogue no less. so stupid, marzeyna should’ve been the one to stay behind. from what little she understood of the tensions between varric and cassandra, hawke could’ve been the inquisitor. hell she probably was supposed to be. or alistair’s love, tabris.

both were older, wiser than she was. with only twenty five years on her, she wonders if some God with a sick sense of humor had decided it should be her. things had only gone wrong when she appeared in haven, half alive and delirious. justinia had died, the mage/templar conflict in the hinterlands that she couldn’t solve, alexius.

then they lost haven. and so many people. the smell of wood burning around her and screams of people being cut down by red templars. her advisors asking for orders, her mind spiraling in a thousand different directions.

she wonders if cullen saw the terrified look in her eyes when he’d spoken to her. saw her fumbling for answers, saw the little girl that had been given too much power, much too soon. had second thoughts about her being the so called herald of andraste. had wondered why he put his faith in her.

marzeyna lavellan. she was a mage. and a dalish elf. two of the most marginalized statuses you could have in thedas, and so many people still looked up to her. asked her what to do, trusted her not to lead them astray.

hawke had trusted her. marzeyna had promised her she’d get her out alive, had promised she’d get her back to bethany. to anders. that they could do this.

she yanks a box, some sort of box, maybe empty off the desk and throws it, chucks it into the wall just off the windows. it crashes, shattering into splinters of oak. then something else holding an ink quill, lighter, easier to throw. that too shatters, ceramic maybe. it’s satisfying almost, anger and regret and everything in between flooding her emotions like a tidal wave. they drown her, choking her when she screams like a caged animal, chucking another small box into the wall. raw magic dances at her fingertips and lights her ablaze, body glowing a gentle white as hot tears slide down her face in rivers.

justinia. maybe. she’s needed her and there was nothing she could do. she failed her.

every single person in haven believed in her. they needed her when corphyeus arrived with his forces.

hawke had believed in her. smiled at her. told her jokes. at first skeptical, as any non andrastian would be. but quickly had become her friend. her first real one that wasn’t asking her what was next all the time. someone she could go to when her advisors were too much that day.

her hands clench into fists in her hair, sobs heavy and heaving as she slides to the floor in a heap against one of the walls. now hawke was gone, and it was all her fault. just like it’d been before. another person who’d gotten killed because of her.

she’d tried to justify her decision. the wardens would need someone to lead them through this possible blight. tabris would need him when she got back with her research into the fake calling.

nothing answers when she thinks about hawke. she can’t justify her death. she was a good person, supported mages to a fault. didn’t seem the type to kick puppies. was friendly to everyone, had a sister, had a friend in varric.

then, why isn’t marzeyna dead?

she has nothing. clan lavellan maybe, but they’d surely replaced her by now, it wasn’t as if she was coming back now. it wasn’t like they were clambering to see her again. she’s a mage, she’s already being persecuted anyway. and it wasn’t as if what she’d started with cullen couldn’t be forgiven. it wasn’t anything serious, he could meet someone else.

sure, she was young. younger than most in the inquisition. but others still had most of their lives ahead of them. she had nothing. no future beyond what lie inside of skyhold.

hugging her knees, the pants legs begin to wet with the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. the anchor was the only thing that made her important, that kept people from actually wanting to get her killed. people put their lives on the line for her. and she couldn’t even return the favor.

her nails dig into her biceps, curling in on her herself as a draft whips into the room. a shiver after the fire chases it away.

then why is she still here? she’s nothing, no one.

and right now, she doesn’t want to be anyone. she doesn’t go to bed that night, reading reports until she can’t. staving off sleep to keep from drifting into the fade against her will. eyes blurring and burning when she dresses herself in the morning, she avoids varric’s gaze following her down the corridor to the war room. josephine follows, rattling off things she doesn’t understand. nobles. treaties. alliances.

lelianna and cullen join them a few minutes later. if they notice her hands shaking, they don’t say anything. a glimmer of concern in cullen’s eyes, josephine outright with the words on her lips, gently biting them back.

she should be dead, she chants when they arrive in the plains, i don’t even have a right to be alive. she should be here, and yet i handed the situation to her like the scared child i am.

it’s the beginning of many restless nights.

#marzeyna lavellan #oc #original character

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your-shield-of-love · 4 years

Text

So I've made some comments Kalle says and scenarios she's in, written down. Thought I'd share with you x3 Honestly I could go on about Dragon Age or my OC's all day. I would also like to see any of your OC's etc ^^ <3

~~~

Kalle is smuggled into Skyhold by Hawke, wanting to surprise Leliana. They have a bet going on how long it will take for Leliana and her spies to notice someone new among the Skyhold ranks. Hawke thinks Kalle will be found out in under 24 hours, while Kalle believes Leliana wouldn't reveal she's found her for an entire week.

Kalle decides to act as a new Inquisition scout and so Hawke comes up with a plan. Tell Harding about it.

"Hey there, Scout Harding!" Hawke approaches with their normal swagger and wave, "I wanted to talk."

Harding turns to Hawke, "Uh oh. I'm not in trouble am I?" Her tone half joking.

"Not at all! Not at all... Just need something done, only you can do." Hawke whispers.

"Right. Barracks?" Harding points up the stairs behind her, leading to a currently spot. She also eyed up the unknown scout standing behind Hawke. Hawke smiles thinking, wow she catches on quick.

"So, what's going on, Champion?" Harding asks, fidgeting with her hands.

Hawke squats, part of her armour touching the ground beneath her. "I've got a friend here. Real important to me. She needs protection and somewhere safe to hide. Which is here." Hawke says quickly but quietly, "Also two things. She can't be seen by the Spymaster or the Commander."

Kalle waves, acting the quiet, nervous type. Harding looks her up and down, eyebrow raised.

Hawke stands, their legs getting sore from squatting. "We've got a bet you see. To see how long it'll take for Kalle's identity to be found out."

"Kalle?" Harding blinks a few times, crossing her arms in thought. "Kalle, Kalle, Kal-" She looks up quickly, her mouth opening before she quickly closes it.

"Nice to meet you, Harding." Kalle grins, "I'll be in your care."

Harding blinks before nodding eagerly, "A bet to surprise the Mrs?" She teases, "It won't last long, Leliana catches on pretty quickly."

Kalle blushes and scratches the side of her cheek out of embarrassment, "I've never been under cover around people who could easily recognise me. It'll be fun!" She grins and stands by Harding's side.

"See ya when you're caught." Hawke simply waves, walking off with their hips swinging side to side.

Harding starts walking down the stairs, Kalle following. "I want in on the bet."

"Ohhh," Kalle laughs, "Sure. What will you bet?"

"What have you and the Champion bet?"

Kalle pulls on her hood, "Hawke says I'll be discovered in under 24 hours. I bet Leliana will discover me in under a week."

Harding hums for a moment, thinking on what she should bet. "I'm going to bet that the Commander will catch on. After Haven he is often wandering about, with scouts and officers following."

Kalle pauses, thinking about how hilarious it would be if Cullen discovered her. Though it would be equally awkward, as the two hadn't spoke in person since the blight. "Hmmm do you think I could talk to Cassandra? To her face? Not right now but with a report or something?"

"She'd probably recognise you. She did look for you since Kirkwall fell apart..." Harding stood at her usual spot in front of the Tavern.

Kalle hums in thought, "If I can play my cards right, I might be able to get her to not recognise me, but also get her to smile." Kalle bites her lip in her excitement. She always loved challenging herself.

"You don't seem like the type to enjoy best, but there you have it." Harding smiles, "I'd like to see the result, though it's not too hard to make her smile. The Inquisitor has a good nack for it."

"Blame Hawke," Kalle starightens her uniform out. "They got me into challenges and all sorts when we met."

Harding told Kalle not to go near the Tavern, someone would most likely notice her there and to definitely not approach the stables where Blackwall, their Grey Warden was. Which was odd, Kalle hadn't sensed another Warden nearby but shrugged it off. Every Warden had their own odd symptoms of the blight, maybe his was that no one can sense him.

She mostly patrolled, got to know other recruits or kept watch on anything approaching Skyhold. It was always just people approaching, not enemies or anyone to really worry about. Harding approached her in the evening with a report for Josephine and told her she could try talk to Cassandra now. Harding now had the time to watch whatever conversation was going on. She also told Kalle that Hawke seemed antsy, fidgety even. Harding had spotted Hawke trying to calm their fidgeting, either finding out about Kalle being here and joining the bet or just joining the bet.

Kalle swiftly passed a lot of people, staying out of the way and near the walls. She even passed the Commander, who was to busy making orders and receiving reports to spot just another scout. She had worked alongside a scout named Jim, who was a nice but mischievous guy. He seemed to catch on that Kalle was up to something not menacing. Kalle waved him off saying, 'my friends have got a bet going on, I'm just trying to make it last.'

Entering Josephine's office, Kalle stood by the door. Time for the noob scout act. "Uh, Lady Montilyet?" Kalle put on her nervous voice.

"Yes?" The lady raised her head, "Oh, if you could place your report here on my desk, that would be nice." She looked back down to the letter she was writing. Kalle scurried over, placing the letter gently on her desk, acting as though placing it normally would disturb the woman. She turned to leave when Josephine says, "You are new, correct? Did you have to travel far to get here?"

Kalle turns back to her, a shy smile on her face. Playing the game was hard for Kalle, especially with masks. "Very far, Ma'am. I am.. still adjusting to everything." Josephine stared, Kalle continued with, "I meant as -well as an Elf. I'm not treated like an elf, I'm treated like an equal." Kalle puts on a sad but happy smile, "It makes me happy."

Josephine smiles, waving her quill side to side, "I am glad. It is good to her the Inquisition scouts are well behaved. Now, I must return to my work."

Kalle bows slightly, "Good luck, Ma'am." Before leaving. Kalle decides she thinks Josephine is sweet and has either caught on that she's not who Kalle says she is or genuinely fell for her act. She thinks it's the first one. Leliana always talks about how Jose' plays the game well. "Better wrap things up." She heads down the steps of the main building and towards Cassandra. Harding grins from the Barracks above Cassandra.

Cassandra was focused on the swing of her sword as she hit the dummy, thinking of the vital points to hit someone. In the back of her mind she wondered if she could make time later to read Sword and Shield. A feeling of being watched came over Cassandra an before she could respond to it,

"Hello, Lady Pentaghast?" A scout asked, her blue eyes slightly glowing as it began to grow dark now. She was an elf, their eyes reflective like a cats.

Cassandra lowered her sword, turning to the scout. There was something about this scout.. "Yes? What is it that you want?"

The elf swinging softly, side to side. "I uh- wanted to say hi." They shyly whispered, looking down.

Cassandra stared, "well you have said it. Is that all you wanted? Are you not busy?" She almost hisses in response but can tell the girl is nervous.

She looks back up, surprise in her features, "No! I- I just... I wanted to ask something." A blush rising in her cheeks, Cassandra confused on what was happening.

"Go on, scout." Cassandra stood, putting her sword in its hilt before crossing her arms.

"Is it good?" The elf asked.

Cassandra's eyebrows raise, "Is *what* good?"

"S-sword and shields!" The elf says confidently, quickly covering her face. "My friends all talk about it, and earlier when I was on duty at the barracks, I spotted you reading it... my friends all laugh when I try to ask them about it."

Cassandra drops her arms and marches toward the scout staring her down. Before she can get a word in, the scout replies.

"T-the only reason I'm asking i-is because my friends are all immature about literature *like that* and- and they compare me to daisy from the Champions book and I have no one to talk to about this. I don't know *how* to talk about this." The scout quickly said, panic in their voice and seeming to get teary, making Cassandra's embarrassment go down somewhat. This scout seemed young, if not immature herself asking someone of the Inquisitor's inner circle this. Thinking back on the tales Varric told, this scout did remind her of 'Daisy'.

Cassandra sighs, gripping the scouts shoulders very firmly and staring down at her. She swore she could recognise her. "I... understand. However I must insist that you do not simply... Just don't approach your higher ups like this. If you wish to read those books, then you just to get it. If you don't like it, donate to the library. If you do, keep it." She says coldly, noticing the small sad frown on the scouts face made her continue, "I also know the pain of having friends that will tease you mercilessly about the literature you take in." Cassandra scowls even more so, the opposite effect of what Kalle was looking for. She steps back from Kalle and hopes the young and naive scout learns from this.

The elf smiles softly, "I- ... yes I understand. I am sorry for interrupting your training and am thankful for your advice." She rubs the back of her hood, the helm shuffling slightly.

A silence fell between the two, Cassandra letting the scouts shoulder go, "I know I am of no importance but, having someone that sees me and not some naive, innocent elf that needs protecting is nice. A kick in the ass is good for me once in a while, is all I'm trying to say." She stumbles over her words, Cassandra remembering a time before joining the Seekers where she was also naive and learning boundaries and such.

"Well," Cassandra starts, "I do hope you won't always come to me for a kick in the ass. I hope your scouting will do that for you." Cassandra's scowl lessens. "Though you are free to sit with me to read if you must." Perhaps having someone to talk to about the series could do Cassandra some good too.

The elf grins, her hands not fidgeting anymore. "Me too and I'll do that, obviously if it's a bad time for you, please let me know and I'll leave." She nods eagerly, "I wouldn't want to disturb you!"

Cassandra shakes her head at the elf for mumbling and continuing a conversation unnecessarily. "Well, you have something to do I believe? I must return to-" Before Cassandra can finish her sentence, the elf reached out her hand and shot out ice above Cassandra's head. Cassandra whips towards where the ice headed, the large shards gripping onto the side of the barracks, holding something within. The elf marches past her, a serious look in her eyes and she undoes her ice magic, the object falling into her hand. She stares at whatever landed in her hand and she looks up, Cassanda also looking towards the barracks.

"It's just food." The elf turns to Cassandra, showing her a sweetroll that was now blown apart from the ice. "I'm sorry for overreacting."

Cassandra stared deeply towards the elf, a mage, and said, "You can control your magic without a staff?"

The elf pauses, staring back at her and not looking away. The shy demeanor from earlier gone. "Yes. Though it took me a long time to train that skill, I hope I haven't upset you."

"Not at all. You have nice reflexes." Cassandra inwardly shrugged off the fact that this elf was a mage, Cassandra worked side by side with mages and could now tell when they were aiming their attacks at her. "I never caught your name."

The corner of the scouts mouth rise, a grin slowly growing, "Call me Sabrae. It's my surname, I prefer it from my first." She explains, holding out her hand. Cassandra takes it and does a single firm shake before dropping her hand.

"Well, good talk Scout Sabrae." Cassandra was unsure of what else to say, the elf waved and walked by her once again, before she could leave however, Cassandra had once last thing to say. "Have we met before?"

Scout Sabrae stopped, swirled around and stood straight. "You probably don't recognise me. We've not spoke before, maybe been in the same room once but... I wanted to talk to you about this, because you saved a dear friend of mines life. It's actually why I joined the Inquisition in the first place." She smiled with a sad look in her eyes, "To also help those who need help and to thank you, personally."

Cassandra smiled slightly, "Well you - and your friend - are welcome. Next time when you want to talk to a higher up, start with that *first*."

The scout let out a snake like laugh, "Will do!" She waved and walked past the tavern.

"I can't believe it." Harding said, approaching Kalle. "You made her smile and - what was with that conversation?!"

Kalle smirks, "I'm not the best at approaching scenarios when acting like someone I'm not. But I do so with no script and literally pull it out of my ass. I got her to smile though, my extra challenge is complete."

Harding shook her head, "The sweetroll was Hawke's idea."

"Hey!" Hawke approached with Varric beside them, "It worked didn't it? Helped you both talk longer."

Kalle smirked, feeling her dimples were showing. "True. Hey Varric." The two had met for a small amount of time, and had sent letters to each before.

"Kalle, good to see you. You look good with the uniform on." Varric patted Kalle's arm.

"Good, cause I'll hopefully be staying in it for another few hours." Kalle laughs softly, "I should go. It'll look suspicious if I keep talking to the Inquisitor's companions." She quickly turns to leave when Hawke pulls on her arm.

Hawke stared with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Varric wants in on the bet." Hawke pretends to be messing with Kalle's uniform, "He bets the Seeker will catch on after Leliana, then Jose' but before Curly."

Kalle laughs softly, "An odd bet but fuck it, sure. I thought you'd bet on the Iron Bull or his chargers finding out, though they are in the Tavern a whole lot."

She was on a night shift, marching the Barracks on lookout duty. The whole of Skyhold was on edge since Haven was destroyed only four days ago. Kalle breathed in the cold, night air. If she didn't naturally feel warm all the time, she wouldn't be so relaxed. She looked up at the stars and remembered when she was in the circle growing up, always surrounded by Templars and only seeing the night sky from within the tower. Sure they could walk the grounds outside with permission but that happened less after Anders had escaped.

"... Where is that- Ah, scout!" Cullens voice called out, Kalle inwardly panicked, her body growing tense. How was she going to handle this?! He approached quickly, when she realised how to play this. She sniffs, and rubs her eyes.

"Y-yes, Commander?" She was always good at voice interpretations and decided to pull an accent based on the Free Marches.

He didn't say anything but still approached, stopping an arms length from her. "Is something the matter?" He asked, a slight worry in his voice but still distant sounding.

"I-I apologise.. It... A friend of mine, died at Haven ser. I was just.. lost in their memory, I suppose." She stared deeply into the night sky, avoiding looking at him. "Commander, I can still listen but you do not wish to see a crying, glowing elven eyes. It is an odd thing to see." She inwardly kicked herself for using such a horrible lie but it was the only convincing one she could think of.

Cullen paused, Kalle felt the panic within her rise. "I understand... Take your time. I simply wanted the report of the new recruits we received today."

"Ah," Kalle smirks, not as stiff since she knew he wouldn't be able to see her face. "I believe Scout Jim has it. He's the scoutiest of us all. Apart from Harding, obviously."

"Thank you," he said, his voice gentle. Kalle remembered that voice, he often spoke it to those at the circle that showed him kindness, apart from her. He was all stutter then. Kalle noted that was a funny comment, but luckily didn't laugh or scoff out loud. "What's your name, Scout?"

Kalle's real surname is Surana, or used to be. It was the Surname her Mum had, but her Mum had died when she was a toddler, so sadly she never met her but she did meet with her Birth Dad after the blight was defeated. She had brought Valor, her dog, Leliana and Alistair then. She still writes letters to her Dad, and although they aren't too close. She stills thinks of him as family. She shook her head for getting lost in thought, she let out a small 'brrr' noise. "Sorry, sir. The names Sabrae."

"Well, Scout Sabrae. You can switch with a peer if you feel the need to. Keep up the hard work." He left, Kalle watching him leave, smiles. "Working hard as ever, I see." She smirks, he turns around, she turns away quickly. *Please don't have seen my face. Please!* She peeked her eyes our from the corner of her hood, he had continued walking. "Thank fuck."

By the end of her shift, she had began feeling tired and was thankful she'd have a cot to sleep in. Hopefully she could finally have some decent sleep, which would be difficult since her and every other Warden was hearing the Calling. She looked around the room, all the cots with other female scouts either getting to sleep or waking up. An inner panic set in her, realising it was like she was back in the circle. She stood at the foot if her bed, leaning against the bed post, with her eyes tightly closed.

The door burst open, every scout jumping, waking up, some mumbling in their sleep or grabbing their weapon before putting them back down. "I'm looking for Scout Sabrae?" Harding called out, Kalle's panic was ending, still had a bit to go. She meekly raised her arms, hearing the dwarf approaching.

"Come with me, scout." Harding gently said, holding the small of Kalle's back and softly pushing her along. Harding took her to Hawke's room, "Hawke informed me that you have *trouble* sleeping at night. They offered to let you stay with them, Varric also offered."

"Thanks," Kalle said tiredly, "You snapped me out of my Panic attack."

Harding patted her back softly, "Those are the worst. A lot of circle mages are the same, you know. Though I'm sure it's different for you..." Harding rubbed her back gently.

"Thanks. Good to hear. Which bedrooms nearest?" Kalle said quickly, just wanting to sleep.

"Varric's, though it's near the Inquisitor's inner circles quarters." Harding explained.

"I don't care. Just...I need rest." Kalle mumbled, taking a breath and stretching. "I'm ready to go." She said after realising Harding had waited. She led Kalle to Varric's quarters, where Hawke was, sitting on Varric's bed, rubbing their hair furiously. Upon seeing Kalle enter the room, stood up, marched over and practically threw Kalle into the small cot.

Kalle would've said something but already felt herself falling into the softness of the blankets.

"Oi, Kalle. Kalle!" She was shook awake. Rolling to her other side and seeing Varric staring down at her, she raised her eyebrow saying 'what?'. "You were speaking Darkspawn." Kalle sighed, "It wasn't Cor-"

"No, it wasn't. Sorry, Varric." She sat up, realising she slept in her uniform. Minus the helmet. "Hope I didn't disturb your writing."

Varric rubbed his head before sitting at his desk. "A little, but I needed a break anyway." By the look of the sun, it was lunchtime and Kalle's stomach started grumbling for food. Varric chucked her some sweetrolls, Kalle grinned before eating them all.

Kalle stands, stretching her whole body and rubbing her eyes. She puts her helm on. "Made my entrance to Skyhold more entertaining. Or serious and brooding, people love the sad, brooding Warden."

Varric scribbled something saying, "Already have our broody Warden. A mischievous, nosy but soft hearted Warden? Even better."

Kalle smiles softly, "Thanks, Varric." She gives him a hug, "I need to eat, so I'm off to the tavern. It'll prove a nice challenge of not being noticed."

Just before she leaves, Varric says, "Alright, Cuddles." Kalle smiles, she really likes her nickname.

She had managed to head into the tavern and decided to sit on the third floor, after getting her food of course. She sat at the banister, looking down the tavern and swinging her legs back and forth, over the edge of the gap.

"Watching, wanting. To be a piece but not the picture. Reaching to connect, letting go, getting pulled to the picture. Songs are enough."

Kalle whips to her left, a man with a big hat, kicking his legs with her. She blinks, pausing for a moment. "You're good at reading." She grins, passing him some food.

He looked back, holding the food gently. "Knowing words. A breathe of fresh air. I-" he pauses, "I like my hat too."

Kalle smiles, "Your Cole, right?"

The man turns staring, "You know and remember?"

"Do you remember Wynne and Shale?"

"Yes." Cole replies.

"Well, since I read about you, I have forgotten you now and then. But it's the same for everyone I've met. I have to forgot some at times to remember others. It helps." Kalle looks down. "Leliana wrote about you sometimes. I want to help you help everyone else. That would help me."

Cole says, "A shout, 'not true!' Reaching for air while falling through waves. A break of air is needed but breathing burns if I don't swim."

Kalle swallows and sighs softly, "Guess I can't hide my feelings from you, or myself. I hope I didn't lose the bet." She turns to Cole, "Can you help me? I'm... a lot of things. Could use a friend." She spoke honestly to him.

"A friend. Someone to relax around. Just a book with no title. You're not just a book! Words that hum and fly, love that comforts even within the dark. Family that passes by blood." Cole compliments, passing back the food.

Kalle eats it, not sure how to respond. "Thank you, Cole." She bumps her head against his shoulder. He leans on her head.

"Thank you, Kalle." With Cole's words she welled up. This guy, she had heard of since the blight ended. She forgot him many times, never meeting him would do that but remembered him when she remembered what she wanted to do in life. "Remembering helps." Cole mumbled, seeming to think on the inner voice from Kalle.

Since she spoke with Cole, he followed her around, sometimes from afar, sometimes right beside her. Kalle smiled to herself, finding it cute, like her Valor followed her around. He was busy protecting her home but oh she missed him. "I like Valor. He's a good one." Cole says, making Kalle giggle.

"He's the goodest, cutest Mabari ever." Kalle smiles to herself, walking along the barracks, Cole following after her. He sometimes spoke others feelings and thoughts out loud, Kalle told him he can help them and she can wait. But he didn't leave her side.

It was obvious Hawke had lost the bet now, it had been 24 hours and Kalle giggled as she saw them furiously beating up a dummy. Cassandra fighting the one farthest from Hawke. "Hah, finally." Kalle breathes, "Hawke never knows when to let out steam." She told Cole, though he probably already knew.

Before Cole could say anything, Kalle spotted Cullen approaching from his office, he seemed to looking for someone. Kalle stared outward from Skyhold admiring the snowy mountains and just as Cullen walked by her,

"Words sting. Friends broken, circle broken, trapping circle, the rain reminds it was real." Cullen let's out a shaken breath, "Here to help but their kind burned, broke others. Used his weakness, used her to break him. It didn't, a tear instead. A feeding tear." Cullen whipped around to Cole, sorrow and anger on his features. "You didn't break her. She didn't tear. She holds the tears, keeps them close. Never forgets. Can't forget her home, her family, her people. Carries them along with every other person that she reached and those she didn't. Swims with tears, they can drown her but remembers to breath air."

Kalle before realising it, had began crying and had whimpered out loud. She would pretend to not hear Cole, but he was helping. Both her and Cullen. Kalle had been leaning on the stone of Skyhold to balance. She pushed against them, turning to Cole and gripped his hand. 'To help someone you can't always speak their feelings, instead of saying his feelings, why don't you try talking with him?'

"Scout, why are you with.." Cullen breathed, "Don't read into me. And out loud..." He turned, probably needing to think.

Cole looks back to Kalle, she hadn't turned her face towards Cullen so he hadn't seen her. Cole let her hand go and followed after the Commander, Kalle sighs loudly against Skyhold. "Shit, that was close." She said out loud once Cole entered Cullen's office. She decided she needed a much needed break, headed to the library where she found a volume of Sword and Shield and decided she would sit near Hawke, who was near Cassandra.

Hawke sat at the foot of the dummy, taking a break and chatting to Cassandra. Noticing Kalle approaching, they rummage into their pouch and brought out a smaller pouch, throwing it towards Kalle, who quickly caught it. "Ah, Scout Sabrae." Cassandra greeted her, spotting the book in her hand and eyeing Hawke, then Kalle and Hawke again.

"Don't worry," Kalle mumbled, tiredly, sitting at the bench nearby. "Hawke has met me before." She opens the book and begins reading.

"Why am I not surprised? Practically everyone has met Hawke." Cassandra grumbles.

Hawke speaks up, "You're starting at volume 2? That ones the dullest one out of the series."

"Not true!" Cassandra gasps, not meaning to respond so quickly. "Wait, starting? ... You haven't read the first?" She pauses, thinking before saying, "How close are you that Hawke knows what books you haven't read??"

Kalle scratches her nose, "We've uh... known eachother since Kirkwall."

Hawke laughs, "*She's* the reason, you couldn't find me and the others!"

Kalle whips around facing Hawke and looking at her with an angry frown, her eye glaring before hesitantly looking to Cassandra, "Just who *are* you?!" She quickly marches to her, making Kalle jump up and sprint. She can hear Hawke laughing and following along, Cassandra chasing. Kalle in a panic, sprints into the Tavern, having everyone look at her. She sprints past The Iron Bull, who eye her up as she runs up the stairs. "Catch that scout!!!" Cassandra roars.

Hawke crackles hysterically, "No, no, don't stop this!!"

Kalle spots a blonde with her fringe cut oddly poke her head out from the corner and decides to sprint into her room. Kalle slams the door behind her, having pushed the blonde into the room. The woman quickly jumps up about to stab her with a dagger, Kalle quickly uses her helmet to hit it out her hand, "I'm the hero of Fereldan and I'm on the run!" She whispers at the woman, before leaping out and onto the roof. The woman pauses, then snorts in laughter, joining her on the roof and grabbing Kalle's wrist before leaping off the roof. Just as the door had burst open, Cassandra screaming from the room, "Sera!!" She clambers onto the roof while Sera drags Kalle towards the opposite side of Skyhold.

"Friggin can't believe, the mighty blue Griffin!" She giggles hysterically, running past the newly set up merchants, up the stairs and through doors that lead to the kitchens. She steals an apple and takes a bite out of it, Kalle also doing so and kinda enjoying the lighthearted chaos.

"Name's Kalle!" She says quickly, as the elf woman let's her hand go and into a basement area of skyhold. "You must be Sera!"

Sera giggles in response as she leads Kalle across the room and runs up more stairs. "You're a runner, love it! People'll be happy to see a big uppity run. Good for Cassandra too!"

Kalle wasn't sure if Cassandra was still following, deciding to remove her helmet, it clanging down the steps and says, "A bird crumb! I hope she's still chasing, I needed this." Sera laughs hysterically, Kalle laughing with her. What a great way to meet someone.

Upon entering a small room between two doors, Sera bursts open the one on the right, running through with Kalle following. They run through the open area, a few people in the room and Varric spots them. "Not sure how much longer you'll be able to run, everyone's on alert now!" Varric tells them, waving off some people about to chase after. Sera bursts into an open room, where a bald elf stands at his desk, quickly eyeing Sera as she sprints past. He looks to the elf chasing after her, recognising her. "What in the name of-"

"Sorry to disturb! I'll apologise properly later!!" They run up the stairs on the left, to the library, Kalle quickly stuffing her book into one of the shelves and pulls up her loose hood. A snazzy man looks up from his book and stares, before Kalle can say anything however Sera screams,

"I'm running with the Hero of Fereldan!!! Hahahahah!"

Kalle shakes her head in laughter as she catches up, following Sera back outside and towards Cullen's office. Hearing a few, 'there they are! Get em!' Kalle also notices Iron Bull and his group watching, also spotting Hawke pointing and laughing. They burst into Cullen's office, Cole sitting on the floor beside his desk and Cullen looks up from the reports. "Sera? What-" He stops as he recognises Kalle's face and he drops his papers.

"Sera, keep running!" Kalle pats her shoulder, "Can I hide under your desk?" She turns to Cullen, probably a cruel way to meet him again but she was on an adrenaline high that was quickly coming down. "Please?" He steps back with a confused nod, his mouth agape. She shuffles under his desk, holding her knees to her chest, Cole squeezing in beside her. She also reaches out for papers near her, as Cullen grabs the ones closer to him. His feet are shuffling and she pokes the papers into his knees. He quickly takes them with a small 'Thank you'.

Hearing Sera running through the door on the right, probably towards the inn and then the front door opens. Cullen stepping closer to the desk and Kalle leaning into Cole, trying to stop her laughter. Cole grows tense, remembering a similar feeling from long ago but hears the racing of Kalle's heart and how happy she is. He smiles to her, she smiles back, letting out a quiet breath.

"Commander." Cassandra's voice speaks frustrated sounding, "The hero of Fereldan ran in here. Which way did she go?"

"Eh, I-" Kalle notices him point to the door Sera ran through.

Hearing Cassandra step closer, Kalle held her laughter even more, Cole trying not to hit the hard part of his hat on the top of the desk. "Cullen. I saw Sera run, where did she go?"

He leans more on his right leg and says, "S-she hid up there." He nods to the space he had been sleeping in, which he'll probably keep as his sleeping quarters.

Cassandra quickly climbs the ladder, Kalle thought maybe she could run a bit longer but decided against it. "She is *not* here, commander!"

As she says that the doors open again, "Well, where is she?" Leliana's voice speaks.

"Check the desk." Cassandra grumbles, climbing down the ladder, Cullen taking steps back towards his window and the glove of Leliana holds onto the edge of the space Kalle hid in. Once Leliana's face came into view, her ginger hair high-lighting her dark purple coloured outfit, Kalle felt like she light up. They stared at eachother, a smile on their face as Leliana held out her other hand. Kalle gripped it, Leliana standing and Kalle pushing herself up while using Leliana for support.

"What were you doing?" Leliana shook her head, a small but warm smile on her face. Leliana's hand still holding Kalle's, it been almost an entire year since she seen Leliana, Kalle gripped her hand tighter.

"Coming to surprise you." Kalle shrugs, a smirk growing.

Leliana quickly but softly cups her check, her thumb rubbing at the smile dimples, "Colour me surprised."

Kalle laughs softly, the two hugging tightly, Kalle's head tucked into Leliana. She felt like she was going to cry.

Realising she forgot where she was and who was in the room with her, let go and tilted her up to Leliana, who was a slightly taller than her. She felt the gaze of Cassandra, Cole and Cullen on them. "I missed you." Kalle blurted out, covering her mouth and feeling a blush growing on her face. Leliana playfully pinches her cheek,

"Me too, love." She nuzzles her head against Kalle, rubbing at the end of Kalle's left ear, making her almost purr.

Cassandra coughs to break the reunion, the couple looking to her. Cassandra doesn't speak for a moment but smiles slightly. "I am happy for you for Leliana, but we must all speak. In the war room." She turns to leave, Leliana about to lead Kalle out when Kalle turns back.

"Cole? I didn't forget you. Come with me." Kalle requested, noticing his silence. He appeared in front of her and nodded. She smiles and looks back to Cullen, "If you're joining us, wanna walk together?"

"Oh uh, y-yes!" He grabs the reports and follows the couple, still holding hands. As they walk out of the office, Hawke spots them and waves in excitement. Varric by their side, the Iron Bull, Sera and chargers cheering for the Hero of Fereldan. Kalle waves softly, the murmuring growing louder as the small group are crossing the bridge.

"You could take your hood down." Leliana smirks at her lover, "Let them see you."

Kalle shyly smiles, always forgetting how smitten Leliana made her. "C-can you do it with me?" Leliana nods, hiding a small scoff, wondering if Kalle knew how that sounded but nodded, and the two let their hoods down. The couple seeming to relax and take a breath at the same time.

Entering the warroom, followed by Cole, Hawke, Varric and Cullen, Kalle looked to Josephine. "You- *you* are the H-hero of Fereldan?! I apologise for not realising sooner!" She walked across the room to Kalle, reaching her hand out and spotting Leliana and her holding hands. "Awwww." She almost swooned, "How sweet, I am *so* incredibly happy you two can be with eachother again!" Jose' was quickly becoming one of the sweetest people she had ever met.

"Thanks." Kalle smiles, a small blush on her cheeks, the others stood at the points around the table, Hawke standing by the window while Cole looked at the map. She missed being beside Leliana and just wanted to constantly tell her how she had missed her. She realised the calling had grown quiet since she heard Leliana speak.

Jose' tapped at her clipboard, "An odd and entertaining reveal, to be sure. I'm happy only a few nobles witnessed it, they can be reasoned with to not say what transpired." Kalle felt like she could listen to her talk all day. Josephine's and Leliana's kids would sound beautiful. Josephine blinked at Kalle, who looked at Leliana with a confused expression.

"You spoke out loud." She smiles and just nuzzles into Kalle's hair.

"Hehehe, sorry." Kalle blushes, "Your voices just sound so nice."

Jose smiles, "Well thank you. Your voice is nice too." She nods, looking at her clipboard.

Cole pulls on Kalle's sleeve, "Someone needs my help, I'll be back soon." And he leaves.

She turns to Leliana, "Can I adopt him?" Kalle says with a serious tone and a happy smile on her face, "He's so sweet."

"I don't even know if that's possible, we- we don't know what he is yet." Leliana explains, "Not really.

Kalle hums in thought until Josephine taps her quill onto her board, "We shall hold a ceremony, one for those we lost at Haven... and then after that, my lady, we can hold a celebration for you coming to help the inquisition. Someone *could* make a speech mentioning how you want your announcement and celebration on hold."

"If it's alright, I'd rather not have a celebration. Parties with strangers or people who wanna talk with me endlessly tire me out.." Kalle rubs her arm, "If that's okay."

"Of course, we will not do anything you are not comfortable with. Though we will still need to announce it." Jose reassures.

"After the announcement, I wish Kalle will have a room too stay in to sleep and I believe a feast for the tavern would lift everyones moods." Leliana smiled, knowing Kalle's ability to eat was endless.

"The Inquisitor ... is out on a mission, when they return we should hold another meeting and discuss why you're here." Cullen spoke up, not adjusting to *her* being in the room.

~~~☆

Okay this is fun but I need to sleep hahaha.

Let me know what you think x I meant to say I was expecting to write just a light hearted short hahaha.

#dragon age roleplay #dragon age 2 #dragon age origin #dragon age origins #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age leliana #dragon age sera #dao #iron bull #dragon age iron bull #dragon age cassandra #dragon age fanfic #in so tired #please enjoy #leliana #my writing

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lastbled · 4 years

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banter ---

COLE: stay. please. HAWKE: are you speaking to me? COLE: i’m not. he wishes he could. HAWKE: i don’t follow. COLE: tears can crack stone. it’s just slow. HAWKE: ah. HAWKE: he’s stronger than that. COLE: he thinks he has to be.

VIVIENNE: champion — HAWKE: don’t. VIVIENNE: hawke, then. HAWKE: it’s not the name i take issue with. it’s you. VIVIENNE: i suppose i should not have expected civility from one like you. HAWKE: you’re right

VARRIC: how many does that make for you, hawke? HAWKE: only one of us keeps track of how many people we kill, varric. VARRIC: i was talking about times the seeker’s glared at you, not kills. HAWKE: ah. HAWKE: twenty - two. that’s only counting today. if present —— CASSANDRA: i was not — HAWKE: twenty - three.

SERA: so you — you’re a blood mage, yeah? HAWKE: yeah. SERA: and people call you a champion? like some kinda hero? HAWKE: some do. not most. SERA: only people callin’ that sorta shite heroic are other blood mages. HAWKE: shame is less than effective on me these days. SERA: pfft. whatever. do what you want. away from me. if present —— VARRIC: watch it, buttercup. SERA: she’s a blood mage! VARRIC: [ sharply ] that’s not all she is.

DORIAN: so. your blood magic. HAWKE: don’t. DORIAN: what? don’t like the prying? i’m just trying to get information. HAWKE: you’re trying to hurt yourself. DORIAN: i’m — what? HAWKE: i hurt myself too much not to see when others do it. if ‘last resort of good men’ has been completed —— HAWKE: i’m sorry, for whoever used blood to hurt you. DORIAN: ah. word travels fast. HAWKE: no. DORIAN: no? HAWKE: i don’t need whatever gossip you think i’ve heard to know what someone damaged by blood magic looks like. don’t ask me about my magic just to hurt yourself hearing the answer. HAWKE: it doesn’t prove that you’re stronger. it just makes you a fool.

SOLAS: hawke, i must ask that you — HAWKE: cole told me. i’m being careful. SOLAS: ah. thank you. HAWKE: i’ll keep from going near your spirits. if they’re corrupted, it won’t be by me. SOLAS: and cole? has he reported feeling strangely near you? HAWKE: no. he says he’s too solid for it.

HAWKE: you can stop looking at me like that. THE IRON BULL: i could, sure. HAWKE: believe me when i say that if i wanted you dead, magic or no magic, you would already be dead. THE IRON BULL: who says i’m staring because i think you want me dead? maybe i’m staring because i’m a big fan. HAWKE: so was the arishok. THE IRON BULL: point taken.

BLACKWALL: it might not be an opinion you hear often, but i think that you’re every bit the hero the stories make you out to be. HAWKE: not an opinion i hear often from mundanes, anyway. BLACKWALL: you did everything you could to keep a city safe on your shoulders. you can’t be faulted that it crumbled anyway. BLACKWALL: it’s not right, how much you gave, and how little everyone acts like it mattered. HAWKE: you should have met my mother. BLACKWALL: i’m assuming she agreed? HAWKE: no. no doubt in a few hours she’d have you convinced that i was solely to blame for all that happened. BLACKWALL: surely that’s not true. HAWKE: we could ask her if i hadn’t let her die, so perhaps she was right.

CASSANDRA: champion — VARRIC: watch it, seeker. HAWKE: let her speak. CASSANDRA: i wanted to ask if you had any idea that we were searching for you. while varric kept you hidden. HAWKE: i did. CASSANDRA: and you would have refused, had we found you. HAWKE: yes. i spent my life running from the circles. i wouldn’t let the chantry turn me into its puppet now. CASSANDRA: the inquisitor is hardly a puppet. HAWKE: you wanted a figurehead. and you wanted the rebels to look at me and see a renegade mage working with the chantry, submitted to its laws. because we both know you didn’t want a hedge mage maleficar. CASSANDRA: what we wanted was a leader. HAWKE: then you’re even more foolish than i thought. surely varric told you the story. how well did i lead a damned thing in kirkwall? CASSANDRA: you’ve made your point. HAWKE: good.

#headcanon.#cass im so sorry u had 2 find out the hard way that ur crush on hawke is absolutely unearned #this is from ye olde blog....im gonna be reblogging / reposting some of my old hcs over the course of the next few days #queueing em up

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cosmiciaria · 5 years

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In defense of Dragon Age 2 (review - no spoilers - long post!)

It seems I'm only allowed to play games in disorder, because I played this one after Inquisition, and guess what I'm almost at the end of now (yes, you guessed it, Origins). But it's not a problem for me, because after I *checks notes* ejem, played, uhm, like nine playthroughs of Inquisition, cof, cof, I've learned all the tiny details and branches and possible endings of each installment. So this game's story wasn't a surprise in many aspects – although there were still things I didn't know or I didn't expect.

So DA2 is the black sheep of the family, and somehow I can see why. It differs greatly from the origin prologue you get to play in the first one, and the silent protagonist is gone, replaced by an already created and established character, Hawke. Hawke can be male or female, mage, rogue or warrior – but they are only human. We are ripped off of the option of choosing between races.

And that's not the only thing the game takes away from us – we are used to travel around Ferelden, searching for allies, to fight the Archdemon, because the End is Nigh and we Must Save the World united with friends and so on – here, it's just a city. We only get to know Kirkwall, a Free Marches city that used to be owned by the Imperium and now rejoices in its so-called freedom. Kirkwall consists in some neighborhoods and some notorious buildings, but that's it. It's just the city. And I daresay, it's another protagonist of the game.

Yes, you get to go outside a few times – you even go through the ( I don't know WHY) still mandatory Deep Roads quest and whatnot – but the main storyline will still happen inside the city walls.

And that's… not so bad. But I'll get there in a moment.

So you play as Hawke, the older sibling of the Hawke family. You're escaping from Lothering, which you may remember from Origins – yes, it's the same town you visit right after Ostagar. Lothering has been overrun by darkspawn and so you take your mother and your two younger twin siblings with you: Carver, a warrior, and Bethany, an apostate mage.

In your way to the port, you come across Aveline, a well seasoned captain, and her husband Wesley, a templar. Wesley isn't in a very good condition but you still allowed them both to join your escape.

It isn't so long before the darkspawn reach you, and you make your last stand here.

Now, in this part of the prologue, what matters the most is the class you chose for Hawke. If Hawke is a mage, Bethany, the other mage, will perish at the hands of the ogre that is leading this barricade of darkspawn. If Hawke is a warrior/rogue, it will be Carver the one who makes the ultimate sacrifice so his family would survive. As I have stated in my Inquisition review, I love mages, so of course I created a mage Hawke, and so I watched Bethany, so young and rebellious, die in front of my eyes (Wesley, Avelin's husband, dies as well but we don't care much for him sorry not sorry).

Choosing a class isn't a minor or just a gameplay thing here, because it leads to two very different stories. Carver is resentful with you, he blames you for the death of his twin, and he can't get over the idea that you (and him, as well) are being hunted by templars. He can even become a templar if you choose the required options – so ironic, you a mage and your own brother a templar! His inferiority complex makes it really hard to get on well with him. Bethany, on the other hand, seems to care more for her older sibling, and bears a great admiration for their father, who was a mage and the one who taught her everything. She's guilty over the fact her family is doing everything they can to protect her from the templars and the Circle, and her attitude towards Hawke always follow that line. Her destiny has more options than Carver, though, so it makes me think that maybe Bethany was the "canon" sibling who survived – Still, I always play as a mage so I'm used to Carver by now and it feels kind of contradictory to see Bethany alive and well.

Amidst the chaos, a dragon appears, stretching its wings – it destroys the rest of the darkspawn, and soon we see that it's not just a beast. It transfigures into a human, quite known for us DA's fans: Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, Morrigan's mother. She's saved us, but of course she wants a little favor in return, nothing too problematic. For those who are wondering "but HEY I killed Flemeth in Origins", well this encounter happens before you do that. And if you know anything about Flemeth is that she always comes back.

Finally, you reach destination, the almighty Kirkwall, with its columns that seems to go on forever into the sky. Here, you'll start over. Here, you'll pave your way to your future. And the plot begins!

The story is divided into three well marked acts: the first Act you'll be saving money to go on an expedition to the Deep Roads to gain enough coin and reclaim the Hawke estate in Kirkwall; the second Act has you going around playing the diplomatic link between the Viscount and the Qunari who have made the city their headquarters; and the third Act, well, everything blows up. Literally, I might add.

Between the prologue and Act 1, one years passes. Between Act 1 and 2, three more years go by; and finally, Act 3 happens three years later as well. The whole story takes up like 8 years or more inside the same city. This… wasn't a good decision on the developers, in my opinion, but I'll say it after I talk a little about the characters.

First we have Hawke, our Champion. Their personality varies between diplomatic – sarcastic – upfront and direct. And this time is easier to know because gone are the days with the many responses available and now we have the wheel which shows you an icon displaying the "tone" of your reply. If there's something common across all the Hawkes you can create, is that they care for their family, they want to recover what's theirs, and there's no stopping them. They are loved by those around them and seen as a leader. Loyalty is a powerful word here, which will play a big part in the final act, because only those who are truly loyal to you will remain by your side. And it's endearing, really, to see the support of those characters that accompanied you the whole game. Oh, and they have voices. I say this because in Origins we have a silent protagonist (which took me aback considering I played Inquisition and 2 prior), and they are so well portrayed it makes them more human and approachable.

Now that we are on that topic, voice acting here is just FLAWLESS. I can't get over Gideon's voice for that stupid elf damn it.

Alright so, just like in the other games, you can recruit companions. I already spoke a little about Carver and Bethany, who are playable… for a time, at least.

This is the first time we come across Varric, our favorite storyteller. Varric isn't only just your best bud for life here, but he's also the one telling Hawke's story: he'd been abducted by Cassandra Pentaghast (yes, the one from Inquisition) who wants to interrogate him about the Champion. Varric is like your north in the game, he's always there for you, he's always supporting you, he doesn't take sides, he's funny, he's welcoming and he cares so much that I want to hug him. Goodest best friend forever.

Aside from him, you'll be crossing paths with Aveline again, now a soldier in the guard. Aveline is the correct type of person: she takes pride in her job, she wants things to get done well, following the rules. She respects honor, dignity and justice, and she doesn't approve of taking advantage of "illegal" situations and underground activities. If she's on your good side, you'll get a great supporter and a great friend, who will got your back, always.

Fenris is an elf who comes from the Tevinter Imperium – if we know anything of Tevinter apart from its blood mages, it's that they are slavers. Fenris used to be a slave who managed, somehow, to escape from his master. He bears a burning hatred towards the Vints, mages and every slaver out there. He always remarks he's a free man and he will disapprove of your support for the mages or any kind of sympathy towards slavery. So much so, that I started my relationship with him in -10 because I was a mage.

Merril is a dalish elf whom you'll be recruiting after finishing Flemeth's little favor. Merril is a blood mage, and she doesn't see the demons as enemies, but rather friends. She intends to leave her clan and go live in the city, because she's sure she can help her kin from outside instead of remaining cloistered and secluded inside. This will grant her the dislike of all her clan's members, but that doesn't stop her. She's naïve, she doesn't seem to understand most of human customs, and she's quite direct because she can't see through sarcasm or white lies. She's the purest of the team, although her abilities may tell you otherwise.

Isabela isn't new for us, if you come from Origins. Here she'll be joining us again after losing her ship. Her intentions remain a mystery most of the game, but let's just say she's quite involved with the plot of the second act. She's a forced to be reckoned with: she doesn't mess around when things need to be done and she gets them done in her own way. I'm still a bit spiteful about her because she abandoned my team after the second act, although I thought I was doing everything right!

Sebastian is only available through the Exiled Prince DLC – he's a chantry brother whose family was brutally murdered and his estate back in Starkhaven lies headless. He's conflicted about whether to remain in the chantry or go back to reclaim his land. He's righteous, he doesn't accept any rule breaking and, to be honest, he's pretty dull – specially if you're trying to romance him only because of those shiny blue eyes. The fact that he only joins you after Act 1 supports this allegation, in the way that he's not available through the first part for party banter, which always adds a lot of more depth to the characters you're playing with.

And at last… we have Anders. For those of you who played Origins' expansion, Awakening, Anders isn't a new character either. This time, though, it's not just Anders: he's possessed by a spirit of Justice, the same Justice we meet in Awakening. Anders remains in control most of the time, but when he loses it or when he enters the Fade, it's Justice the one who takes over. Anders serves as a healer in Kirkwall, helping refugees for free. He wants to move on from his past as a Grey Warden and he fights for the rights of the mages who are being hunted by the templars. Oh, man, of course I would fall for the subversive mage! Boy was I deceived… He plays a large role in the final battle, which, depending on your choices and your principles, will change your view of him forever. Let's just say that he's a pretty hated character in the franchise.

In this game you'll have choices as well, and your comments and actions will bear points of friendship or rivalry with your companions. This doesn't mean that if you get 100 rivalry points with one of them they'll abandon you, no, it doesn't work like in Origins or in Inquisition. Here you have to see the bar in both directions: the closer it is to one of the extremes, the better. The danger zone is the central one: if you have little points of friendship or of rivalry, the companion is likely to abandon you. This is what happened to me with Isabela: I had a good chunk of friendship points with her, but it seems I needed to max them out, which I didn't, and thus she flew away, goodbye. You can even romance characters with high rivalry points, and their romance plays a little different because of it. As it says, it's "rivalry" and not "deep hatred with death wishes", so maybe it spices some things up in your relationship.

Each companion will have their own questline that stretches across all three acts, and if you want to have all your team available by the end of the game, I recommend you do them. Although… well, you won't have the whole team, but I won't spoil it for you.

So I mentioned before I would talk about why the eight year story decision wasn't a good take for me after speaking a little about the characters – well, it's simple. In those three year gaps, the story acts as if nothing happens. Yes, sometimes the characters say "hey, I haven't seen you in a while" or "that thing happened three years ago" or whatever, but it doesn't work well. For instance, if you romance Fenris, you'll sleep with him in the second act, and then he goes away, seemingly not wanting to continue with the relationship. Three year pass, and then you resume your romancing with him, and he's like "yes, idk why I left that night I so regret it lol" DUDE, you're like just two meters away from Hawke's house, are you truly telling me you didn't talk to them after what happened in these three years?

The story plays as if there are no gaps in time. In fact, if you take away Varric's narration, which states that x amount of time happens between act and act, you won't even notice it! And that's the thing: I don't know why they chose to do this. I mean, I guess I understand the point, they wanted Hawke to make their own name, to be known and loved by the citizens as years went by, they wanted them to start in rags and rise to fortune, I get it. But something similar was accomplished with the Inquisitor in the third game: time passes, I believe almost a year, and you feel the love and respect you've earned from your companions. It didn't take my Inquisitor eight years for that. It didn't even take her half a month to get Cullen in love with her ok sorry. What I mean is, the eight years thing isn't well developed, and characters act as if no such time had passed, and the story is planned as well like that. It's almost as though they wanted to stray as far as possible from Origins in terms of design and choices, which is a great idea, but some things just don't add up.

For example, in Inquistion's expansion, Trespasser, two years have passed. And here you see, you feel that your characters have been away for long. They've all been following their own paths and when they finally reunite they catch up and speak about their futures and what they want for themselves. It truly feels like two years have passed. There's a huge impasse between the ending and the expansion, which marks a milestone, and you can understand why all these characters haven't seen each other for a while. Whereas between Act 1 and 2… it's like… yeah we went to the Deep Roads and yeah… hmm… Varric really three years and you still didn't hear of your brother or… wait is this letter by Carver just sent? I mean he's been away too long now but he could always send me letters why wait three years…. and so on. It breaks the continuity. In fact, it doesn't only do that, but it also makes your characters stupid. Are you telling me Anders has been in love with me for three years and he still hadn't done anything?? What are you, fifteen?

But apart from that, I believe this game is really good. I enjoyed it from beginning to end. I enjoyed the mechanic regarding your siblings: their appearance changes depending of what preset for the face and skintone you choose for Hawke. I like the idea that only one of the twins is available throughout the game. I like that the gameplay has been improved from Origins, I love that as a mage you feel so destructive with all those spells, I love that it's fast paced and more colorful. I got also really involved with some of the companions, specially Anders, Fenris and Aveline. I love that, even though they may disagree with you on some topics, they still remain by your side if you were a good friend, because that's what friendship's about. Friendship/rivalry here feels like a human thing, something quite relatable, instead of just shoving gifts onto your companion so they'd like you better. I like that somehow all of your companions are entangled with what happens in the city, and this leads me to my final point about why DA2 is still a good game.

Kirkwall. Our vedette. Our goddess. Kirkwall is the scenario for 90% of the events of the game. We're not saving the world here. We just want the peace for the city. Who should rule? Whose forces should Hawke support? Is Hawke good enough to be Viscount? Are the templars doing a good job? Or is Knight-Captain Meredith going too far?

Political intrigue. And just one city. Not all of Ferelden. Just one bad person trying to control the strings in this small portion of land, not an army of zombies or a dragon ready to consume the world. I love that the plot is just restrained to this small thing, because it lets you go deeper into everyone's stories, and it doesn't mean that it gets less epic, on the contrary. I enjoyed the final boss here way more than I did with Corpypheus in Inquisition. Here Meredith has an actual goal and she's acting upon what she thinks it's right, and at some point and to some extent, she's right! But her methods are questionable, in the least. She's not just a bad guy for the sake of being a bad guy, like it happens with Corypheus. She's bad, but she has her reasons.

You don't get to know a lot of people, because you just know those who live in Kirkwall. The familiarity, the warmth of its streets, it's like you've been living there as well, sharing with these characters and learning about their pasts. Instead of allowing you to see a huge picture with hundreds of characters involved, you just focus on those you care about, explore them more in depth. Sometimes covering everything doesn't lead you anywhere, so it might be better with just a handful of well written plot points and characters.

I'm not saying that Origins is the worst because of this, because it seems like I'm hating on it. In fact, I can't still speak much of it because I haven't finished my route yet (although I know how it ends). I'm just saying that Origins is good, that Inquisition is good, and that DA2 is also good. It's different, but still a good game. Sometimes you're tired of playing as the chosen one hero who must save the world, and maybe saving one city is enough for your heroic career.

I loved the game. I loved that it pushed my beliefs of helping the mages to the limit, to the point of questioning myself. I loved that it played tricks on me like that with the romance option. I loved the sarcastic Hawke, such a well written script. Also, Cullen is here so of course I'd love it.

Just… don't hate it that much. And if you still haven't played it, give it a shot. You might be surprised.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #dragon age origins #dragon age inquisition #da2 #dai #dao #bioware #hawke #anders #varric #fenris #videogame #videogame review #review #gamer #ea games

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segadoraa · 5 years

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Blinded Chapter 5: A Time Not Yet Lost

Summary: Ellana meets with the War Council to determine the Inquisition's next move in the war against Fen'Harel.

Read the rest of the story on AO3.

Back in Skyhold, Ellana had summoned her war council almost immediately. As they entered, she felt a pang—Josephine had dark circles under her eyes, Cullen walked with a slight limp, and Leliana seemed to twitch at the slightest sound. Ellana herself still wore the bloodied armor she had in battle, days previously now. Cassandra, or Divine Victoria rather, had returned promptly to the Winter Palace to address the Chantry. She tried to quash her desperate desire to take a bath as well as her guilt for summoning her exhausted crew. They did not know when Solas would move forward and they needed to be on the same page in case disaster struck.

“My apologies for requesting your presence this soon after we have returned,” she began. “I fear we do not have much time before our enemy makes his next move and, at this point, there are several things we need to agree upon in order to confirm our next move.”

“No need for apologies, Inquisitor,” replied Josephine. “You are correct, we should meet. Leliana, have you further considered expanding our council outside this room?”

“I have considered it—”

“Hold on,” Cullen interjected, cutting Leliana off. “We are moving forward with our contingency plan just like that? I think we need to first agree that there is nothing left to be done about…?” he trailed off, meeting Ellana’s gaze. She opened her mouth to explain, but Leliana beat her to it.

“What more can we do?” Leliana stepped an inch closer to Ellana’s left side, shielding her slightly from the Commander’s gaze. “We’ve combatted his forces at every turn and we’ve come up short. We’ve gained as much power and knowledge as we could, but now he has what he needs. If Ellana herself could not change the mind of Fen’Harel, who could? We need to assume our enemy means to act, and soon.” Cullen withdrew slightly and dropped his gaze, not meeting her eye.

“Perhaps we have not yet exhausted our assets,” he suggested, cocking his head toward Ellana, his gaze still lowered. “Inquisitor, are you certain we have no tools left at our disposal to use against our enemy? He might respond to… unexpected advances more positively than what we’ve tried thus far.”

Ellana pushed her breath slowly through her teeth as Leliana sucked hers in quickly.

“Commander,” her tone was reprimanding and Ellana glanced at her gratefully, “You were not at the camp when Ellana returned from our enemy’s clutches, but I was. I am not faulting you,” she added, after Cullen opened his mouth to argue, “Your soldiers needed your leadership. However, you did not see the state the Inquisitor was in when she returned to us. I truly believe we have exhausted any resistance we have against both Fen’Harel and Solas at this point, and it would be wise to move forward from here, to spare ourselves any further setbacks.”

Ellana, slightly abashed at the comment on her conduct, sent a small smile toward Leliana. She was grateful for not having to argue her perspective with Cullen. She gazed back at him and noticed his slight blush before he shuffled around the table.

“Very well,” he said, resigning. He lifted his sad eyes to meet Ellana’s gaze. “I do trust you, and I trust the report I read. I just needed to be certain. It is a grave fate we commit ourselves to now.”

Ellana regarded him a moment before he broke away from her focus. She sensed a twinge of—what? Regret? Longing?

“I agree with Cullen,” Josephine piped up, regarding him curiously. “We should be sure there is nothing else to be done before we accept what we must do now.”

All eyes turned toward Ellana. She did her best not to stagger as their stares and the collective weight of their dependence on her hit her like a mind blast. She knew as well as they did that what they would do next was solely her decision. She felt another part of her break under the weight. Once, she would have sought out Solas, who somehow had a way of lifting the heaviness she felt and making her feel reassured. Now, she must press on alone and find the strength he once gave within herself.

Shuffling her feet slightly, but not dropping her eyes, she sighed.

“I assure you, every strategy we have discussed has been attempted,” she addressed them all, praying that she exuded all the calm and confidence that she did not feel. “We must move forward; if any words or actions were to change Fen’Harel, they have already come to pass and he has not wavered. We mustn’t either. With this plan, we are one step ahead of him for the first time. If we want it to remain that way, we cannot delay.”

With this, Cullen clenched his jaw and averted his gaze. Josephine gave a curt nod and a small smile, raising her notes, ready to act. Leliana glanced sideways at her, but said nothing. The floor still belonged to Ellana.

“Leliana, is there anyone else we should invite to join us before continuing our talks?”

“I have considered this and, yes, I think we would benefit greatly by extending our reach. I’ll send word,” she excused herself and Josephine followed. Cullen and Ellana remained, avoiding each other’s eyes.

There had been a time, before Ellana was the Inquisitor, before they had sealed the breach in the sky, before Skyhold and Solas, when she had sought Cullen out in his quarters, wondering aloud what her place in the world was and where to go from here. She had been terrified and he had always seemed so sure, so she sought him out. To her surprise, she had found him trembling and afraid—the same way she felt. They had found comfort in each other’s embrace for just that night. After, it was as if nothing had happened. If there were any longing glances or lingering emotion, Ellana had missed it altogether, and things soon went back to normal. That is, until about a month previously, at a particularly heated war council meeting where they had fought over what to do about Fen’Harel’s betrayal. His words had stung, and Ellana remembered them now.

“Are we just going to sit around and pretend there was nothing special, nothing intimate about the relationship between our dear Inquisitor and Fen’Harel? Or, should I say, Solas?” Ellana was taken aback at his words—they had been careful to avoid suspicion.

“Commander!” It was Josephine who defended her this time. She regarded it as an inopportune moment to reveal their knowledge of Ellana’s alleged triste.

“I know, I know! We all agreed not to discuss it! But do we not agree that such a connection could benefit us if it were exploited? I’ve seen what the Inquisitor can do and, trust me, she is lethal with more than her bow.”

He had done his best to maintain an air of nonchalance at the time, but Ellana knew her face had burned at the weight of his implications. He had played the part of the dutiful commander and he had performed well, considering the circumstances. He had never requested much from Ellana besides the direction and encouragement he needed after he had decided to withdraw from his use of lyrium.

Now, Ellana recognized regret and hurt on the face of the man standing before her.

“Cullen,” she said in a low voice, “I owe you an apology.”

“You owe me nothing, Inquisitor. You’ve saved us and all of Thedas. I’m grateful for your strength and your influence.” His response was rehearsed, stoic, and insincere. He stared straight ahead, as a soldier would when addressing his superior. She stepped around the war table, then rested against it, just a few paces from where he stood at attention. She fixed her gaze on his boots.

“I’m not addressing Commander Rutherford. You may stand down. I’m addressing you as a man, Cullen. I am sorry. You must think I’m a fool, and you are certainly right. I’ve been foolish in many respects.”

He did not answer for a while and regarded her curiously. She felt the heat in her face, but she did not lift her head to meet his eye. Her throat burned with embarrassment and emotion. Cullen, along with the rest of the Inquisition, had placed his complete trust in her and her misguided faith in the apostate mage. She had cost them everything. She acted like a lovesick child—so sure of herself and her feelings. The weight of Solas’s betrayal was now hers to bear. How could anyone trust her to lead them now?

Cullen let out a sigh and softened slightly.

“I do not think you are a fool,” he finally said, gently. “I do not pretend to understand the workings of your heart Inquis—” he corrected himself, “Ellana. Or his for that matter, but given everything that has happened, you have never given me a reason not to trust you. I will still follow where you lead and, if I have ever let my emotions get the best of me, then I’m the one who should apologize.”

She met his gaze at that—his eyes were full and a concerned frown furrowed his brow. She made to reach out for his hand, but, at that moment, Leliana and Josephine re-entered the room, followed by Dorian, Iron Bull, Vivienne, Blackwall, Sera, and Varric, who was accompanied by Hawke and a Dalish elf Ellana did not recognize. She met Ellana’s eye when she entered and a small smile crossed her face before she shuffled around Varric to stand slightly behind him at the table.

Their small war room had never been so full. She regarded her friends and the newcomers as they took in their surroundings. Blackwall kicked at a small stone by his feet and kept his gaze down. Dorian lounged next to Bull in the corner, his posture relaxed, but his eyes darted around the room. Vivienne seemed as comfortable as she ever did, with her back straight and her chin lifted. She regarded Ellana with a cool disdain—they had often disagreed about Ellana’s decisions, but she had stayed and supported the Inquisition, nonetheless.

Her eyes rested on Varric, who quirked a half-smile and tilted his head toward the room. She tried to smile back and shrugged slightly, searching for what she would say to address her new war council. Varric beat her to it.

“So,” she said, leaning forward against the table, “assuming we aren’t all here because Chuckles has had a sudden change of heart and has decided not to destroy the world, let me introduce my friend, Merrill.”

#dragon age inquisition #dai #dragon age inquisition fanfic #dai fanfic #post trespasser oc #post trespasser fanfic #solavellan fanfic #solavellan hell #solavellan oc #solavellan

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lastbled-a · 5 years

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i wrote banter because i Felt Like It ---

VIVIENNE: champion --- HAWKE: don’t. VIVIENNE: hawke, then. HAWKE: it’s not the name i take issue with. it’s you. VIVIENNE: i suppose i should not have expected civility from one like you. HAWKE: you’re right

VARRIC: how many does that make for you, hawke? HAWKE: only one of us keeps track of how many people we kill, varric. VARRIC: i was talking about times the seeker’s glared at you, not kills. HAWKE: ah. HAWKE: twenty - two. that’s only counting today. if present ------ CASSANDRA: i was not --- HAWKE: twenty - three.

SERA: so you --- you’re a blood mage, yeah? HAWKE: yeah. SERA: and people call you a champion? like some kinda hero? HAWKE: some do. not most. SERA: only people callin’ that sorta shite heroic are other blood mages. HAWKE: shame is less than effective on me these days. SERA: pfft. whatever. do what you want. away from me. if present ------ VARRIC: watch it, buttercup. SERA: she’s a blood mage! VARRIC: [ sharply ] that’s not all she is.

DORIAN: so. your blood magic. HAWKE: don’t. DORIAN: what? don’t like the prying? i’m just trying to get information. HAWKE: you’re trying to hurt yourself. DORIAN: i’m --- what? HAWKE: i hurt myself too much not to see when others do it. if ‘last resort of good men’ has been completed ------ HAWKE: i’m sorry, for whoever used blood to hurt you. DORIAN: ah. word travels fast. HAWKE: no. DORIAN: no? HAWKE: i don’t need whatever gossip you think i’ve heard to know what someone damaged by blood magic looks like. don’t ask me about my magic just to hurt yourself hearing the answer. HAWKE: it doesn’t prove that you’re stronger. it just makes you a fool.

SOLAS: hawke, i must ask that you --- HAWKE: cole told me. i’m being careful. SOLAS: ah. thank you. HAWKE: i’ll keep from going near your spirits. if they’re corrupted, it won’t be by me. SOLAS: and cole? has he reported feeling strangely near you? HAWKE: no. he says he’s too solid for it.

CASSANDRA: champion --- VARRIC: watch it, seeker. HAWKE: let her speak. CASSANDRA: i wanted to ask if you had any idea that we were searching for you. while varric kept you hidden. HAWKE: i did. CASSANDRA: and you would have refused, had we found you. HAWKE: yes. i spent my life running from the circles. i wouldn’t let the chantry turn me into its puppet now. CASSANDRA: the inquisitor is hardly a puppet. HAWKE: you wanted a figurehead. and you wanted the rebels to look at me and see a renegade mage working with the chantry, submitted to its laws. because we both know you didn’t want a hedge mage maleficar. CASSANDRA: what we wanted was a leader. HAWKE: then you’re even more foolish than i thought. surely varric told you the story. how well did i lead a damned thing in kirkwall? CASSANDRA: you’ve made your point. HAWKE: good.

#headcanon.#poor cass has 2 learn that her crush on faye is entirely undeserved djgkfhldfgd #also note that the only time shes like Actually Almost Funny is with varric

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weptfire · 5 years

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IT’S GONNA TAKE A WHILE to compile every little detail that changes with Celene as the Herald of Andraste. Honestly . . . everything is different or damn near it. The way events unfold in DA:I is very much so a result of the fact that the Inquisition is a dark horse. It is an upstart organization which was meant to be answerable to the Divine but ended up answerable to no one. The Inquisitor themself is an outsider that no one thought much of. The gradual rise to power, succeeding when no one thought much about them, is an integral part of the narrative. With Celene, that all goes out of the window because she’s the empress of Orlais. There’re just a lot of complicated politics to go into tbh.

I’m gonna try to bullet out some differences I can think of off the top of my head, though. Fair warning, however, that because Michel acts as Inquisitor, I’m having to make my own guesses as to how he would handle certain situations. If anyone who writes Michel wishes to interact in this verse, I absolutely will not expect them to adhere to my hcs regarding him. Your character, not mine — you get final say.

GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.

➺ Celene is only the Herald of Andraste. She names Michel Inquisitor. However, Michel answers to her. ➺ Technically, though, the Inquisition is considered Chantry-aligned. ➺ Celene plays up the Divine’s writ and her Hands’ involvement to give the Inquisition increased access. ➺ Look, no one’s gonna allow an Orlesian Inquisition past their borders, but the Chantry is everywhere. The Inquisition is still viewed as Orlesian, but this small technicality can be played up, and people cave because they don’t have much choice. ➺ The biggest decisions are made by her, but the others by and far fall under the purview of Michel. He’s the one who announces the big decisions, though, so they seem like they’re his / ostensibly they’re his. ➺ Thus, the members of the Inner Circle interact with him more than her, although they do have access to her.

➺ Being the Herald helps bridge the gap between Gaspard’s supporters and hers. Seeing as she’s the only one with the ability to seal rifts, she must “lead from the frontlines” to do so. ➺ However, those who compare her to Kordillus I expect her to follow his example and spread the Chant to all corners of Thedas through conquest, forcing them to submit to Orlesian rule. ➺ They are frustrated (even angered) by her continued commitment to peace.

➺ Operating within Orlais is much simpler because she’s the empress and she knows how to handle the nobility. ➺ Operating within Ferelden, however, becomes damn near impossible. ➺ They are forced to allow her access to the rifts to seal them, but she is only ever accompanied by Michel and 2-3 members of the Inner Circle (usually Vivienne, Solas, and/or Cassandra). ➺ There is a group of Fereldan knights and a representative of the crown (probably Arl Teagan) sent to “aid” her. They are cold at first, but she manages to win them over eventually.

➺ Additionally, relations with Nevarra quickly deteriorate. ➺ Beind Herald actually makes it more difficult to maintain peace. ➺ Tbqh, war is on the horizon, and I don’t mean the war against Corypheus. Whether Orlais or Nevarra will make the first move is anyone’s guess.

INNER CIRCLE CONSIDERATIONS.

➺ Final decisions about the Inner Circle ultimately fall to Michel.

➺ I assume Sera doesn’t offer to join up. Even if she did, Michel would most likely turn her away. ➺ Vivienne undoubtedly still joins up. She could do so while maintaining her position as Enchanter to the Imperial Court, though. ➺ Of course, she is given the snowy wyvern heart. ➺ She is supported as Divine. ➺ It’s debatable as to whether Blackwall / Rainier joins up, but he has too much spine and too little sense, so we’ll assume he does. ➺ This is one of the few DA:I judgments Celene would handle herself. She wouldn’t allow the Inquisition to have him once he hands himself over tbqh. His ass gets hung for his crimes. ➺ Michel could talk Celene into sending him to the Wardens, though, and I think he would. ➺ The Iron Bull most likely gets turned away. (Then again, Michel does like to think he’s clever and can outwit people.) ➺ After what happened with Imshael, Michel most likely tries to kill Cole. ➺ Dorian is probably allowed to stay on account of the aid he’s rendered. ➺ I can’t imagine Michel encouraging reconciliation with his father. ➺ Cassandra, of course, is there from the start. ➺ Her companion quest is completed, and Celene herself would encourage her to rebuild the Seekers. ➺ Varric is also there from the start. ➺ His companion quest is completed. ➺ Solas is, once again, there from the start. ➺ Honestly, I’m not sure Michel would even receive his companion quest.

➺ Michel would likely favor Josephine’s plan of elevating the du Paraquettes, but Celene would favor Leliana’s. As this is one of the quests I can absolutely see Celene being involved in, her opinion would win out. ➺ Michel could convince her to change her mind if he wanted to, though. ➺ Leliana ends up steeled. ➺ Cullen is supported in breaking his lyrium leash.

MAIN QUEST CONSIDERATIONS.

➺ Champions of the Just — It’s highly debatable as to whether Corypheus would even attempt the gambit with the mages. He might, but ultimately the Inquisition wouldn’t go for it. It’s too great of a risk for an organization whose position in Ferelden is already so precarious. They would have precisely zero trouble attracting the attention of Lord Seeker Lucius / Envy, though. Their questline would become available almost immediately. Celene would be involved in this quest in her role as Herald, but she would ultimately allow Michel to announce the final decision because he is Inquisitor. However, he knows her mind, and, I would say, even agrees with her. He would tell the templars to rebuild as the Inquisition’s partners. The fact that the Order was originally a part of the Inquisition will be emphasized, and this partnership will be used to further play up the angle that the Inquisition is technically Chantry-aligned, not Orlais-aligned.

➺ Here Lies the Abyss — I don’t think this particular quest would be much affected. Celene would be involved in the siege at Adamant, but you know they’d try to keep her away from the heart of the battle — keep her safe on the sidelines. However, because it’s so important to the storyline, I say that the bit where they end up physically in the Fade still happens. Hawke is left behind. The Inquisition allies with the Wardens. However, because Blackwall / Rainier is supposedly a Warden-Constable (making him the highest ranking Warden present), he is the one chosen to lead the Wardens / become the new Warden-Commander. This undoubtedly causes him to turn himself in much sooner.

➺ Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts — This quest never happens. Because the War of the Lions ends with Gaspard’s death after Celene closes the Breach, there was never a need for this ball. Florianne was subsequently exiled from Orlais even though Celene didn’t really see her as a threat. (Better safe than sorry.) However, she did obtain an audience with Celene, ostensibly to beg her pardon. It was then that she attempted to assassinate the empress. She failed and was killed herself. ➺ Her remains are still delivered to the Inquisition to be judged, however, and Michel returns the trade routes to Celene.

DLC CONSIDERATIONS.

➺ Jaws of Hakkon — Celene would make at least one trip to the Basin to seal rifts and receive some updates, but the bulk of this quest would be handled by Michel. He’s the one who discovers the truth about Ameridan — which is made public knowledge — and slays Hakkon. Professor Bram Kenric’s writings on the subject are supported by Celene and subsequently popularized at court.

➺ The Descent — Handled entirely by Michel, who I would wager completes it. Celene’s just glad she never had to meet the Nug King.

➺ Trespasser — Never happens. The Inquisition disbands not long after Corypheus’ defeat, making an Exalted Council unnecessary. (The Divine — in this case, Vivienne — could choose to keep the Inquisition intact, but Celene would not be pleased about it.) The storyline with the Viddasala, Solas, the Inquisitor (Michel), and the Herald (Celene) could still happen. It just wouldn’t happen during an Exalted Council. Most likely, Celene hosts a ball to which leaders from around Thedas (especially Nevarra and Ferelden) are invited as an attempt to prevent war. Michel, although no longer a chevalier, would have resumed his duties as Celene’s champion, and thus he is in attendance. The Anchor meltdown, chase through the eluvians, identity reveal, etc. still happen. ➺ In addition to losing her arm, Celene narrowly avoids war, but tensions have heightened further. Her ball was a failure. Thanks, Solas.

#this is very surface level tbh #there are a lot of complicated politics to go into here #but like . . . that's a lot #each thing would need its own post #I'm not proofreading this rn #I'll proofread it later #⊰ headcanon | herald ⋄ you forget to hide the little tells ⊱

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dergonageloser · 7 years

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In which Fenris is the Inquisitor, snippet #2

I need a title for these

Hawke burst through the doors of the Chantry, rustling some loose papers and blowing out a few candles as she swept inside, her jaws set and steel in her eyes. Cullen stood near one of the pillars close to the door leading down to the dungeon. He looked up, startled, and visibly tensed when his eyes landed on her.

Before he could say anything, Hawke demanded, “Where is he?”

Cullen nodded his head to the dungeon.

“He’s in a cell,” he replied.

“He what?”

Cullen swallowed, but straightened up and squared his shoulders. “Cassandra and Leliana are holding him for questioning.”

“Are they.” Without waiting for a response, Hawke pushed past him and strode to the dungeon entrance. She ignored the footsteps behind her that belonged to Cullen, who hesitantly followed her at a distance.

The air was even cooler past the door, raising goosebumps on her skin as she descended the stone steps. Dim lanterns swung idly from the arched ceiling, swaying the shadows on the wall. There was something of a commotion further in, clinks of metal and terse voices bouncing off the stone.

As she approached, she saw Cassandra directing a few soldiers, and Varric helping them. They were lowering a limp figure to the rugged bedding on the floor. Hawke’s breath rushed out when she recognized the figure, a lean elf with white hair that stood out in the dark of the dungeon.

“Fenris,” Hawke breathed, rushing forward. But then, she stopped, her eyes landing on his wrists. A surge of anger welled up in her chest, and she whirled on Cassandra.

“You chained him?” Hawke snarled, disbelieving.

Cassandra looked up, her scowl deepening.

“He’s our only suspect,” she replied. “We’re taking every precaution necessary.”

“Necessary?” Hawke echoed. “Absolutely not, take them off.”

“I cannot.”

“You bloody well can.” Hawke looked down at Fenris. His eyes were closed, head lolling to the side, brow slightly furrowed. The sight of him with his hands bound with metal cuffs made her stomach flip unpleasantly.

Varric lightly touched the chains. “Seeker, you might want to take Hawke’s advice on this one.”

“And if he wakes up and decides to escape? Or harm someone? No, that is took risky.” Cassandra began to turn away, as though dismissively, but Hawke grabbed her arm.

“You clearly don’t know Fenris,” Hawke snapped, stepping into Cassandra’s space. She was at least half a head taller than Hawke, but after the staring down the Arishok, it wasn’t much of a comparison. Unconsciously, Hawke’s hand drifted towards her staff. “If you really think he’s a criminal or he’s at fault for this, then fine, lock him in a cell, I don’t care, just take those bloody things off.”

Cassandra’s nostrils flared. “What of that mark? What will you do about that?”

Hawke opened her mouth to speak—or rather, spit some expletives along the lines of what the hell are you talking about?—but a green light flashed in her vision. She looked towards the source, body tensed for some demonic magic of sorts, but her eyes widened when she saw Fenris’ hand.

It pulsed again, spilling light from glowing green vines wrapping around his hand. At the center looked like a glowing emerald, somehow pushed into his very skin.

Fenris’ jaws clenched and his face contracted a slight, his breath hitching, but he didn’t awake.

Hawke dropped to her knees at his side, taking his face in her hands. His skin was clammy, pale, and his breathing was ragged even as the pulse of light faded. She swept his hair from his face, feeling his forehead. A little warm, perhaps his body’s response to this foreign magic.

Magic. Oh, he was going to be terribly upset.

Hawke pushed back a thought before it formed, as it had started to sound like if he ever wakes up. Instead, she looked up at Cassandra.

“Explain,” she said.

Cassandra was displeased at being ordered about, but she replied anyway. “We do not know what it is, but it seems to be connected to the Breach.”

A soft click echoed behind Hawke, and she jerked around to see Varric gently slipping the chains from Fenris’ wrists. His limp arms fell to his side, but it sounded as though he were able to breathe just a little easier.

At Cassandra’s scowl, Varric lifted his hands defensively. “You remember that Fenris can actually phase through objects, right? What do you think he’d do if he, a former slave, woke up in chains? That’s tossing oil on the fire, there, Seeker.”

Hawke gave him an appreciative smile, but then looked back down at Fenris. She took his hand in hers, studying the green light. She turned it over, looking at the palm. Narrowing her eyes, she tentatively raised her finger to it, caressing it lightly with her own magic. The light brightened, pulsing again, and Fenris’ breath hitched once more as he tensed in his sleep.

“Sorry, dear,” Hawke murmured. She looked at Varric, then Cassandra. “It feels like the Fade.”

Cassandra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We have prior experience with the Fade,” Varric supplied. “I think Hawke can make a pretty good judgement on that.”

The door to the dungeon opened, temporarily lighting the room before it closed again with a loud clang. Metal footsteps on stone. Hawke turned her head to the guard as he stood approached the cell.

“Lady Cassandra,” the guard spoke. “An elf says he wants to talk to you.”

“Later,” Cassandra retorted.

“He says it’s about the Breach, ma’am.”

She looked up sharply, her eyes narrowed seriously. “Very well, I will come—”

“That won’t be necessary,” a new voice uttered.

Hawke was immediately on her feet, hand to staff, facing the intruder. A pale elf with a shaven head, dressed in rags like a nomad, though he lacked the Dalish markings. A staff was tied to his back. He looked to all of the weapons now pointed at him, raising his hands in surrender.

“Forgive me,” he said, lowering his head in deference. “I thought it pertinent I come as soon as I could.”

“Who are you?” Cassandra demanded, lowering her sword only a little.

“A traveler,” the elf replied. “My name is Solas. I saw what happened from a ways away, and I felt I should lend assistance.”

Varric stood up, wiping the dust from his pants. “That’s a nice staff you got there,” he said idly.

“An apostate,” Cullen murmured, his voice sharp.

Solas glanced at him, the corner of his lip twitching. “Yes, I am a mage. And that is the man that bears magic related to what is occurring above us.”

“What makes you think you can help?” Hawke asked. This was new to everyone. Weird shit has happened before—many times, in fact—but this was a first for a gaping hole in the sky.

“I have studied much in my travels, particularly the Fade,” Solas answered. “That—” he nodded to Fenris. “—looks like Fade magic.”

Hawke looked at Varric, but he only shrugged. Cassandra looked as though she were just about to kick him right out of Haven, but Hawke straightened up before she could.

“Can you fix this?” Hawke gestured to Fenris’ hand, kneeling down again as she took his other hand in hers.

A pause, as the guards looked to Cassandra for an order. She must have nodded her head, because they stepped back and there was a presence right next to her.

Solas knelt down next to her, peering at Fenris with a studious eye. He held his hand over Fenris, then looked to Hawke.

“May I?” he asked.

Hawke nodded, and he gently picked up the hand with the glowing mark. Turning it over and around with delicate fingers, he was silent but focused, so very careful of what he was holding as though it would fall apart.

Cassandra muttered something to the guards, a few of them filed out of the dungeon, Cullen among them. Hawke didn’t know where they were going, but Cassandra seemed to be mostly at ease now, despite two apostates sitting next to her prisoner.

Solas then moved his examination upward, checking Fenris’ pulse and breath and other such things. After a considerable amount of quiet, he said quietly, “I do not believe I can remove it just yet, but I think I can make sure it doesn’t kill him.”

Hawke’s shoulders and neck tensed, her gut pierced with cold. “What do you mean?”

“The mark is interacting poorly with the lyrium in his body,” Solas explained. “How did he come by these?” He indicated to the lines of lyrium tracing along Fenris’ skin.

“A pretty nasty Tevinter magister,” Varric responded from where he stood, leaning on the wall and acting a little too casual. “Something about making the perfect weapon, except with a person.”

Hawke clenched her jaw. The man had been dead for years, and she still felt glimmers of hatred for him every once and a while. Solas, for his part, seemed to understand immediately, and she was surprised to see a similar anger hiding behind his frown. If Varric noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Time for a subject change. “Can you wake him up?” she asked.

Solas didn’t answer immediately. But then, “I can try, but there’s only so much I can do when such a powerful magic is at play.”

Hawke pursed her lips, reaching for Fenris’ good hand again and stroking his fingers.

Cassandra came to stand next to them. “If you are able to wake him, how long do you think it will take?”

“How important is he to you?” Solas responded with a question of his own.

A glower, and she replied, “He’s the only survivor from the Conclave. I need information.”

Solas nodded. “I see.” He pulled his pack from his shoulders, setting it and his staff to the side. Opening the pack, he rummaged inside it and withdrew small pouches and flasks. “I do not know the answer, but I advise to wait at least four or five days. If he’s not awake by then, I am not sure he ever will be.”

Hawke’s fingers tightened around Fenris’, and she glared at Solas. “How can you be certain?”

“I’m not,” Solas replied coolly, reaching to loosen Fenris’ gauntlets and sleeves. “These things never are, but five days is enough to exhaust any attempts to revive him. Beyond that, there wouldn’t be much else we can do.”

Hawke wanted to cry. She wouldn’t, not while she wasn’t alone in the room, but a familiar pressure started poking behind her eyes. Fenris breathed softly, though shallowly, looking as though wherever his mind was, he wasn’t particularly enjoying it. She couldn’t lose him. He was some of her only family left, and it would be her fault once more if he died now.

Hawke stroked Fenris’ hand with her thumb. “Alright.”

#fenris #hawke #f!hawke #fenhawke #inquisitor!fenris #dragon age #dragon age 2 #dragon age: inquistion #tink's writing #solas #cassandra #cullen #i'll post these in ao3 soonish #make it a Thing #not much of a thing but still a Thing

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somevirtualnolife · 7 years

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Banned Books

1904 words Rating: G Pairing: Mage Trevelyan x Cassandra Summary: Reagan has some new books for the Skyhold Library. Cassandra is less than impressed. Previous One Shot: Frostbitten Author’s Notes: Gotta love that slow-burning love~ but hey, at least they’re getting somewhere this time! We all love Cassandra, but I do hope you guys are enjoying Trevelyan as well. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Inquisitor, I wanted to discuss the latest upgrades to Skyhold…What… are you reading?” Cassandra had stopped dead in her tracks, frozen at the top of the steps of the Inquisitor’s chambers.

“Hm? What this? Surely, even from that distance, you of all people would be able to recognize the very first chapter of Swords & Shields,”

“That’s not what I- Why do you have that book!?” she demanded as she approached Reagan’s desk and he quickly stood up and moved around it, keeping the book out of her reach.

“I picked it up on our last trip to Val Royeaux. I figured it would be some nice casual reading for our hardworking recruits. I thought to myself, why do we only have dull history books and reports? Why not read about the knight captain and her exciting adventures? Builds up moral and all that,”

“Then why are you reading it?” Cassandra demanded, essentially on the tips of her toes trying to reach for the book.

“Me? Well, you gave such a glowing recommendation, how could I resist?” he said, a big smile on his face. “Besides you said I couldn’t read the latest chapter. You said nothing about the first one,”

“Well, you still can’t read it!”

“Why not?”

“Because… well, because I forbid it!”

“Should’ve made that order before you made me Inquisitor, Lady Pentaghast,”

The Seeker let out a grunt of disapproval as she often did with the mage as of late. Reagan had gotten used to it by this point. Previously her annoyance would have thrown him off, but they had gone through enough that he honestly found it endearing. If Cassandra showed you any sort of emotion and didn’t immediately stab you, then you probably should consider it a compliment.

With one last chuckle, Reagan finally gave the Seeker the book. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop reading it. I can see your fist tightening and I’ve already seen what you could do to people on your bad list,”

“You were purposely aggravating me. Don’t think I just don’t go around hitting people because I feel like it,” her cheeks had a slight tinge of pink as she quickly clutched the book close to her chest.

“You’re right. My apologies, Cassandra. I do of course, value our friendship very dearly and wouldn’t want to make you too upset,” the mage gave a slight bow. “I just couldn’t resist. What could possibly be in here that you essentially have a book club with Dorian and Cole, but not share with the Inquisitor? Something I shouldn’t read? Perhaps something offensive about mages in there?”

“Now you’re just being purposely naive,” she said, rolling her grey eyes, her cheeks still tinged with pink.

“I honestly don’t know. I only made it to the tenth page,” he replied, his green eyes looking out at the balcony. “The part where the knight captain meets the mysterious rogue and she-” when he turned back to look at Cassandra, he noticed that she started to slowly back away. “Cassandra...? What else is in that book?”

Before she could turn around completely, Reagan managed snatch the book back from her. As tight as her grip may have been, in seemed that the mage’s curiosity was stronger.

“Wait! Stop! You gave me your word you wouldn’t read anymore of it!” she said, scrabbling to get it back, but it was too late, as Reagan quickly turned around and the sound of pages being turned could be heard.

“It was clear that the two were far past being mere partners to solve a crime,” Reagan started to read aloud. “The knight-captain let out a gasp of pleasure as the devilish rogue kissed her neck and slipped his hand beneath her tunic and into her-”

“STOP READING,”

“Oh wow, this certainly does get quite descriptive, doesn’t it?”

“What do you think I meant when I meant smutty literature!?”

“I suppose I thought something along the lines of a cheesy confession, or a romantic kiss of sorts. Not something quite as… explicit,” It was a little harder to come along books like this in the circle. Enchanters were quite snobbish about their books. The Circle was a place of knowledge and one shouldn’t be filling their head with such poorly written drivel.

Reagan then noticed that the pounding of her fists on his back had stopped. He turned around once more to see that the Seeker had covered her face with her hands, clearly attempting to hide her embarrassment.

“Cassandra, it’s really not that bad,” he said with bit of a laugh, placing his left hand on her shoulder. “If anyone is going to be viewed in a different light, it will be Varric,” Would he be able to see his companion the same way on the battlefield without picturing steamy session between a rogue and knight-captain? Also, was the based on real events? Was this supposed to to be Hawke? Aveline? Perhaps a female version of Cullen? He had so many questions for the dwarf the next time they had a chat.

“There are more embarrassing things out there, I assure you. Or did you already forget one of our first conversations where I managed to make a complete and total idiot of myself? And every other conversation after that for the following month,”

The Seeker finally took her hands off her face. “Is… that really how you felt? Were you truly that embarrassed?”

“Maker, I feel like I’m saying the wrong thing half of our conversations together,” Reagan laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yet you still manage to put up with me and treat me the same as you always do, day in and day out,”

“You judge yourself too harshly,”

“So do you,”

Cassandra finally let out a small chuckle. A rare occurrence from the Seeker. “It seems we’re both terrible at judgement then,”

“And we both have something to be embarrassed about,” Reagan added.

“Though I must admit, I don’t understand why you’d be embarrassed talking with me. I know that I was a bit cold when we first got to know each other, but surely our conversations have been pleasant since then,”

For once, during this whole conversation, it was Reagan that had managed to find himself into an awkward position. He always told himself at the beginning, whatever he felt with Cassandra was mere infatuation and that he would grow out of it. Their the banter, the occasional flirting, none of it would lead anywhere beyond friendship. At least, that was what he felt. The Seeker was concerned about more important things. As he should be as well. He should be.

But after all this time, it was quite clear that he wasn’t.

His green eyes glanced away from Cassandra. In fact, they attempted to dart all over the place to make sure he didn’t directly meet with hers.

“Well. It’s difficult to explain,” he finally replied. Yes, that’s a completely reasonable answer and completely not cryptic at all.

“Is it?” She replied, quirking a brow.

“When I’m around you, I feel as though it’s hard to really say what I want to say,”

“You’re saying I’m a bad listener?”

“No, no that’s not what I mean. I just mean that… when I’m around you, I feel that I can’t be completely honest about my feelings,” Why was it so difficult for him to say?

“Oh, so I’m bad company,” she said, crossing her arms once more.

“That’s not what I meant,”

“Then what do you mean?”

“For a woman who reads as much smutty literature as you do, you’d think you’d be able to read the subtext of what I’m trying to say!”

“Or perhaps you’re so poor at your choice of words, I can’t even pick up what subtext you’re talking about!”

“Oh for- Maker’s Breath, Cassandra!”

Reagan wrapped his arm around her waste and pulled her in close. Finally, their eyes locked on each other, saying nothing. It was so quiet for a moment that you could almost hear the sounds of their hearts beating. He had never been this close to the Seeker before, and could admire all the details of her face. The specks of blue in her grey eyes, her high cheekbones that gave her that stern look, the scar on her left cheek, the smudge of dirt from her being outside all day. He placed his hand upon her face and caressed her cheek lightly. Maker, in his eyes, she really was breathtaking.

The moment could not last though, for it was almost as though Cassandra had snapped back into the reality, realizing what was happening and before Reagan knew it, he felt a very strong shove right under his chin and he found himself looking at the ceiling rather than the Seeker. He felt himself stumbling backwards until he slid up and over his desk, until a loud thud could be heard behind it.

Cassandra gasped, seeming to be a little surprised with the amount of force she used. “Reagan, are you alright?”

“Yep. Fine,” he grunted, but seemed to make no effort of getting up.

“I apologize,”

“No, no. I quite deserve that,” Touching someone intimately without their consent was fair grounds for being shoved across the room. Especially a Seeker. He should’ve considered the outcomes rather than the ideal that he had in his mind.

Perhaps it also made things a little clearer about their… whatever this was. He had flattered her and teased her for some time now, and she often shot back with something cold, witty, or even returned the compliment. Those little back and forth were always something he looked forward to. When the world feels as though it’s about to end, it’s nice to have something… normal. But perhaps he misread those moments. A josh between friends.

Although Reagan couldn’t see it, Cassandra continued to stand there, with an unsure look on her face. As though she had a million things she wanted to say, but didn’t know what to say first. Just as she was about to open her mouth, there was the sound of knocking on Reagan’s door.

“Inquisitor? Everything alright?” a guardsman called out. “I was making my rounds when I heard a loud thud,”

“Everything’s fine,” he replied, finally pushing himself up from behind the desk. “Tripped grabbing some documents for the Lady Pentaghast is all,” his eyes met the Seeker’s once more.

“If you say so, Inquisitor. Oh, and when you’re free, you’re needed in the War Council Room,”

Of course he was. Maybe it was for the best. He finally just forced a half smile. It was really the only thing he could think of doing to ease the tension in the room.

“Perhaps we should talk about the upgrades to Skyhold another time. Is that alright with you?”

Cassandra seemed hesitant, but nodded. “Yes, that’s probably best,”

She then picked up the copy of Swords and Shields that the two of them had managed to drop on the floor after all… that. Her grey eyes looked over it once more and back at him.

“You’re still not allowed to read this,” was all she managed to say at the end, before quickly heading down the stairs.

Reagan waited for the sound of the door to close before he let out a groan of frustration.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. What was he going to do now?

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da:i fanfic #inquisitor trevelyan #cassandra pentaghast #inquisitor x cassandra

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starcityhq · 7 years

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EVENT 001 — ANNUAL UNITY FESTIVAL — PLOT DROP

The mayor, a fat, arrogant man, takes the stage, a number of the VIPS who were at his dinner on stage with him. The elegant stone fire pit in the center of the stage has a table next to it stacked high with old capes, cowls, figurines of superheroes and other memorabilia from the time before the ban, ready to burn.

He moves to the microphone, a grin on his features, and the crowd falls silent as he’s about to speak—

And with a thump, the power goes out. All the street lights, all the traffic lights, the stage lights, everything, goes out. Everyone, too shocked to say anything, falls even more silent. Nothing is happening. No one is moving. No one is breathing.

It’s when the lights come back on that all hell breaks loose as bullets are sprayed into the crowd, the mayor falling to the stage, dead before he hits the ground.

As the festival descends into chaos, no one even notices that the memorabilia is gone.

Under the cut, you’ll find OOC information for every character who was at the masquerade! If your character isn’t listed below, please, send a message to the main so we can fix it! The character groupings don’t mean that you have to have a chatzy or that you have to interact only with people in your group, but instead, it’s a guideline for where your characters are in the aftermath of this plot drop! Feel free to continue threads from before the drop, but remember that any threads taking place during this plot drop should be at least started by MIDNIGHT, EST tomorrow, APRIL 12TH. After that, you can feel free to continue threads, but refrain from starting any new threads.

SELINA KYLE, DANIELLE MORENO, JOKER, HARLEEN QUINZEL, LEONARD SNART, STEVE ROGERS

As soon as the blackout happens, SELINA knows that this is her chance. DANI picks up on this as well, and both of them manage to get away with all of the memorabilia, with some help from LEONARD. On their way out of the festival, however, they run into JOKER and HARLEY, who are waiting for DANI to give them what they asked for. Selina begrudgingly hands over some of the memorabilia she had stolen, if only to get JOKER out of her hair. SELINA and LEONARD take half of the memorabilia to her safe house, while JOKER and HARLEY take the other half after paying DANI.On his way back onto the stage JOKER runs into STEVE.

HARRY OSBORN, TONY STARK, JAMES RHODES, JUBILATION LEE, MALLORY BRICKMAN, PEPPER POTTS, ADRIAN VEIDT, GARFIELD LOGAN

For the VIPS on the stage, as soon as the shooting starts, they’re immediately ushered off the stage. HARRY and JUBILATION are taken directly towards OSCORP, the tower only a couple of blocks away from the festival. TONY and PEPPER are pushed towards a squad car, but pull away, going into the crowd to search for their friends, immediately running into JAMES. GARFIELD is separated from his adoptive parents, and ADRIAN offers to help find them.

BRUCE WAYNE, DAMIAN WAYNE, DICK GRAYSON, JAMES GORDON, HARVEY DENT, JASON TODD, TIM DRAKE, BARBARA GORDON

When HARVEY sees that the mayor is on the ground, he drops to his knees, pressing both hands over the bullet wound in his chest to try and stop the bleeding. JIM gets on his radio and immediately starts directing officers to evacuate the festival and get medical personnel on stage to help. BRUCE offers his handkerchief to help stop the bleeding while his kids and partners gravitate towards him. He directs DAMIAN and DICK to go look for the missing memorabilia while asking BARBARA and JASON to try and patch into the streetlight system and figure out how the lights suddenly shut off. TIM and BRUCE immediately start looking for clues, trying to piece the situation together.

CLINT BARTON, KATE BISHOP, CONNOR HAWKE, OLIVER QUEEN, ROY HARPER, DINAH LANCE, THEA QUEEN

JASON immediately tackles ROY when the shooting starts before running up to the stage. Before ROY has time to react, CONNOR is dragging him towards a nearby building. OLIVER and DINAH are already climbing up the side of the building, where CLINT and KATE are already on the roof. After butting heads with CLINT for a moment, OLIVER takes the lead, directing CLINT and KATE to the building across the festival while sending CONNOR, THEA and DINAH down towards the crowd to help evacuate people from the street, leaving OLIVER and ROY on top of the building just in time for OLIVER to get hit—and hand ROY his bow.

(TIME-DISPLACED) HANK MCCOY, BART ALLEN, CONNER KENT, KYLE RAYNER, ARTEMIS CROCK, CASSANDRA SANDSMARK, KORIAND’R, ROSE WILSON, RACHEL ROTH

Before anything starts, ROSE sees it happening in a precognitive flash. She immediately reaches her hands out to both BART and HANK, ordering them to get down, pushing them both to the ground. People in front of them both fall, dead from gunshot wounds. CONNER immediately comes over to help BART up, while KYLE, RACHEL, AND KORIAND’R start ushering the people around them away. ARTEMIS and CASSANDRA start looking around for the people who are shooting, but ROSE drags them away from the scene, seeing nothing but trouble ahead.

FLASH THOMPSON, WADE WILSON, GWEN STACY, KAREN PAGE, MJ WATSON, BILLY BATSON, PETER PARKER

When the shooting starts, GWEN immediately goes to MJ. FLASH and MJ were together, and the three of them manage to move about the crowd. WADE notices PETER off to the side, and grabs him by the arm to go with the others. KAREN, realizing that BILLY is alone, does what she thinks she has to do—not knowing that he’s perfectly capable of caring for himself—and pulls him towards the small group of people shifting out of the way, guiding FLASH over as well. The eight of them duck into an alleyway and wait for everything to quiet down.

ALEXANDER POWER, JACK POWER, SAM WILSON, KATIE POWER, ANDREW PULASKI, JAMES GORDON JR., LUCUS TRENT, CAITLIN SNOW, FELICITY SMOAK

SAM and ANDREW immediately go into work mode when the shooting starts. SAM starts guiding his drone to scan for any suspicious figures above them while ANDREW starts guiding people to safety. ALEX looks for DICK for a moment before giving up, instead finding KATIE and JACK and following ANDREW to safety. LUCUS stands by to help ANDREW, rounding up JAMES, CAITLIN, and FELICITY, all of them ducking into a nearby store and waiting for things to die down.

BUCKY BARNES, BOBBI MORSE, NATASHA ROMANOVA, ORORO MONROE, PEGGY CARTER, BARRY ALLEN, CHARLIE ROSE DUBOIS

BUCKY and NATASHA are together during the blackout, and immediately know that they’ll need to act fast once the lights are back up. They, along with BOBBI, ORORO, PEGGY, BARRY, and CHARLIE start guiding civilians away from the festival.

(TIME DISPLACED) BOBBY DRAKE, FOGGY NELSON, LOGAN HOWLETT, MATT MURDOCK, (CURRENT TIME) JEAN GREY, LAURA KINNEY, CLARK KENT, JON KENT, KARA DANVERS, SHIERA HALL, ROSEMARY ATKINSON

BOBBY acts without thinking when the shooting starts, immediately putting up a wall of ice and watching a number of bullets slam into it. MATT tackles FOGGY to the ground when the bullets slam into the ice, not realizing that the bullets that he heard coming towards them were stopped for a moment. JEAN immediately starts dragging BOBBY away from the ice wall, not wanting him to be associated with the use of his powers, while LOGAN and LAURA follow closely behind. MATT starts running towards the building where he heard shots coming from, immediately slamming his shoulder into the door to push through and run up the stairs to where he can hear someone disassembling a gun. CLARK, SHIERA, KARA and JON start to fly towards the opposite side and fan out, looking for shooters in the top floors of that building. ROSEMARY catches up with JEAN, BOBBY, LOGAN and LAURA, and the five of them realize that people are watching them—having noticed BOBBY put up the ice wall—and must decide what to do next.

FRANK CASTLE, JAMIE MADROX, JULIAN KELLER, LEOPOLD ZOLA, LESTER BENJAMIN POINDEXTER, EMMA FROST, FELICIA HARDY, YELENA BELOVA, CHATO SANTANA, EDWARD NYGMA, GRANT WILSON, MICK RORY, OSWALD COBBLEPOT, ENIGMA, ISABELLA FLYNN, KOMAND’R, LISA SNART, SARA LANCE, MICKEY IVANOV, ALEKSANDRA NOVIKOV, VALENTINA VEDRAN, Pamela isley

VALENTINA’S vision starts again, this time from the point of view of the same spot she’s currently standing in. She manages to duck out in time, grabbing YELENA’S arm on the way The two follow behind FELICIA, KOMAND’R, and CHATO— all of them making it to an allyway that was being used as a hideout by PAMELA, OSWALD, EDWARD, ENIGMA and ISABELLA. FRANK remained unfazed, his eyes searched the crowds for any sign as to who could have caused this. GRANT, utterly bored by what’s going on, runs into LESTER, EMMA, and LEOPOLD, all of whom are watching from that same alleyway with the same disinterest. MICK runs into LISA and SARA and the three of them leave to look for LEONARD. MICKEY, JAMIE, JULIAN and ALEKSANDRA all take cover in one of the vendors’ stalls, waiting for everything to end.

(TIME DISPLACED) SCOTT SUMMERS, TOMMY SHEPHERD, (CURRENT TIME) WARREN WORTHINGTON, (TIME-DISPLACED) WARREN WORTHINGTON, ANNA MARIE, REMY LEBEAU, LORNA DANE, (TIME-DISPLACED) JEAN GREY, WANDA MAXIMOFF, HOWARD REYES, LEORA MORETTI, MARNIE BOND

(TIME DISPLACED) SCOTT and (TIME-DISPLACED) WARREN hear the gunshots go off and immediately look for (TIME-DISPLACED) JEAN and HANK. Unable to find HANK, they meet up with (CURRENT TIME) WARREN, ANNA MARIE, WANDA, and REMY , who quickly decide they need to make a hasty exit before one of the time-displaced gets hurt in the wrong timeline. HOWARD looks for NORA running into TOMMY. Both of them see LEORA and LORNA held at gunpoint by an unidentified assailant and decide to help.

AMERICA CHAVEZ, MEGAN GWYNN, JAY GARRICK, JOHN CONSTANTINE, ARTEMIS OF BANA-MIGHDALL, IRIS WEST, JESSICA CRUZ, LOIS LANE, NORA FRIES, ZATANNA ZATARA,

AMERICA, MEGAN and ARTEMIS OF BANA-MIGHDALL were all participating in small talk by the bar when their smiles fell. ZATANNA quickly realized this had been the blackout Valentina had mentioned and managed to move LOIS, NORA, JESSICA and IRIS away from the side stage before the shooting began. When the first shot was heard JOHN’S cigarette fell and he ran, bumping into JAY along the way.

#starcevent #starcmasquerade #starcadmin #starcstarter

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pikapeppa · 4 years

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Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Moments of Happiness

Chapters 57 & 58 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) are up on AO3! Don’t be fooled, I took one long chapter and chopped it into two. Together they’re about ~10k words.

In which Fenris and the crew pal around at the Winter Palace before the Exalted Council begins. Also known as the calm before the storm. 😭

Read on AO3 here.

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Hawke shook out another pair of trousers and hung them in the finely-carved armoire. “…and that passage made me think of that time when I tried to have you close the mark as though you were closing a rift, but that didn’t work. Which in retrospect was maybe a stupid suggestion since you can’t close a key with a key, if that even makes any sense.” She turned back to the cedar travelling chest containing their clothes. “Honestly though, all these Chantry-sanctioned treatises are worth shit for trying to figure this out. I wonder if it might be worth reaching out to Morrigan to see if she has any interesting ideas. At this point, I’d be willing to try anything to get that fucking mark off of you.”

“Mm,” Fenris said. “That’s a good idea.”

“You think so?” Hawke said. “Perhaps I’ll ask her if a little blood magic might remove it.”

“You could,” he said vaguely.

She laughed. “Fenris! You aren’t even listening to me!” She threw a pair of socks at him, and when they bounced off of his book, he finally looked up.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I… what were you saying?”

“I was trying to talk about the anchor,” she said pointedly.

“Oh. Yes.” He glanced balefully at the mark. The lines of cursed light used to be contained in the main fissures of his palm, but they had started to spread over the last couple of months. Nowadays when the mark flared, its ghastly green light spread down to his wrist and almost all the way to his fingertips.

He closed his hand and looked up at her. “Did you find something in your books?”

“Nothing earth-shattering yet.” She went back to hanging their clothes in the armoire. “I’m still trying to translate that one really old elven tome I found in the little library in Skyhold, but it’s extremely slow-going.” She paused in her unpacking and peered at him. “Are you all right? You’ve been awfully distracted since we left Kirkwall.” Her eyebrows rose with worry. “The mark isn’t hurting more than usual, is it?”

“No. I’m well,” he assured her. “I was just thinking… you should eat more dark green vegetables.”

Her eyebrows jumped up, and she barked out a laugh. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He tapped the book on his lap. “This book. It says that pregnant women should eat dark green vegetables three times a day.”

Hawke narrowed her eyes at the book, then wandered over to the couch where he was sitting. “Is that Enchanter Jolen’s compilation?”

“Yes,” he said. He showed her the book, which was titled Andraste’s Little Blessing: Rites and Rituals for Welcoming A New Child.

She handed the book back to him with a grin. “Well, that’s not a bad one. Although it does recommend that pregnant people should read the Chant of Light every night in thanks for the blessing of a child, and I’m sure as shit not doing that.”

He looked at her in dismay. “Is this book not a reputable source, then?”

“No no, it’s fine,” she said. “But we should dig up a copy of the Ralaferin clan’s writings if you really want to read up on pregnancy.”

“A Dalish text?” he said in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, it’s much more down-to-earth,” Hawke said. “Though it doesn’t have the same modern medical suggestions. And it’ll be hard to get your hands on a copy, I studied from one that Merrill had back in the day…” She frowned thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Actually, you can keep reading Andraste’s Little Blessings. It’s preachy and sort of privileged, but it’s fine.”

“All right,” he said warily. He watched her for a moment as she bustled back over to the bed and continued unpacking their clothes.

He leaned forward. “Perhaps you should sit down. This book says that pregnant women–”

“–should spend as much time as possible on their asses doing nothing, right?” she interrupted.

“Er, yes,” he admitted.

She shook her head in amusement, then sashayed over to him and closed the book. “Fenris, don’t fuss at me, all right? I promise I’ll relax when I need to. Besides, pregnancy is the easy bit. All I have to do is eat a lot, not drink too much wine, make sure no one bashes me in the stomach. That’s easy. The hard part is raising the kid when it comes out. You have no idea what sort of chaotic little monster you’re going to get.”

He slung one arm along the back of the couch. “Knowing you, it will chaos personified,” he said dryly.

She chuckled and playfully pinched his chin. “That’s the sweetest compliment I’ve had all day.”

He smirked, but he couldn’t help but study her smile. She sounded jocular, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was joking.

He took her hand. “Since when does chaos disturb you?”

She snorted. “Since I’m responsible for raising it and making sure it doesn’t grow up into an asshole, of course.”

“We will be equally responsible for that,” he said firmly. “You are not doing any part of this alone.”

Her smile softened. “Such a smooth talker,” she said. “That’ll get you everywhere with me.” She slowly straddled his lap and draped her arms around his neck.

He gazed at her seriously. “This is not idle talk. I mean it. If anything scares or worries you about this, I need you to tell me.”

“Okay, okay,” she murmured. “I’ll tell you, I promise.” She placed a small chaste kiss on his lips.

He parted his lips slightly, and Hawke followed his lead and kissed him more deeply. For a long, luxurious minute, Fenris leaned into her kiss, slowly sliding his palms up her thighs and over her hips, and as his thumbs circled her hipbones, she traced his lower lip with her tongue.

A spike of interest stirred between his legs. When Hawke tilted her hips and pressed down against his groin, the interest surged more strongly still.

Then someone knocked on the door.

A palace servant’s voice called out. “Inquisitor? The delegates from Orlais and Ferelden have been asking if you require assistance.”

Fenris dropped his head back on the couch in frustration, and Hawke sighed. “That means they’re wondering what’s taking you so long to come out and mingle,” she said.

He nodded in resignation, then called out to the servant. “No assistance is necessary,” he said. He tilted Hawke’s chin down and kissed her firmly, then lifted her off of his lap. “We will continue this later,” he warned.

She grinned at him as she rose from the couch. “Ooh, I hope that’s a promise.” She peeled off her shirt and winked at him before sauntering over to the armoire to change.

He tore his eyes away from her swaying hips and roughly adjusted himself before changing into a more formal shirt and jacket. A few minutes later, he and Hawke were strolling through the chattering crowds of nobles toward the upper level of the palace.

As soon as they reached the upper level, they spotted Cassandra standing with an older Fereldan man. She was impossible to miss, really, given her obscenely tall hat. The second she laid eyes on them, her face lit up.

Hawke chuckled. “Someone looks in need of rescuing from some very dull company.”

He gave her a chiding look. “Don’t say anything to get her in trouble.”

She widened her eyes. “Me? Get someone in trouble? I would never.” Her eyes were twinkling with mischief, however, and Cassandra also seemed to notice Hawke’s shit-eating grin, as she quickly greeted them before they could say a word.

“Inquisitor. Champion. It is good to see you both.” She gestured to the stern-faced man at her side. “This is Arl Teagan of Redcliffe. He represents Ferelden at the summit.”

“Oh, lovely!” Hawke said. “How is Alistair doing? Still as handsome as ever, I trust?”

Teagan frowned. “I suppose, though that is hardly important.” He nodded to Fenris. “Inquisitor. Good to meet you.”

“You as well,” Fenris said politely. He glanced briefly at Cassandra, who pulled a tiny apologetic face.

Thankfully, Hawke lightened the dour mood. “Forgive me, I have to ask – Arl Teagan, I understand that you’re a fan of the Grand Tourney. You’re a great rider yourself, aren’t you?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “I was, once. I am too busy running the bannorn now, as I’m sure you can understand.”

She blinked innocently. “Oh, but you must have been something to see in your riding days! Would you be so kind as to tell me a tale or two?”

His scowl deepened. Then he harrumphed. “I suppose I could spare a moment for a story.”

“Wonderful!” Hawke simpered. She linked her arm with Teagan’s, then winked at Cassandra and Fenris before pulling him away.

Cassandra shook her head fondly. “She is the same as always,” she said. “Charming almost to a fault. I am happy to see it.”

Fenris nodded; Cassandra’s assessment was accurate, after all. “You look well,” he said. “From what I can see of you, that is.” He glanced in amusement at her outfit.

She made a disgusted noise. “I will never grow accustomed to these trappings, I swear.”

Fenris smirked. “Based on that letter you sent, I understand you’re especially fond of the hat.”

Cassandra shot him a sideways smile. “You got that letter before you left Kirkwall, then? I am glad. I hope Varric enjoyed it.”

Fenris huffed in amusement. “He did, yes.” He declined to tell her that her overused copy of Swords and Shields had been mentioned in the letter.

Cassandra smiled more widely, then sighed. “I suppose we should discuss the Exalted Council. I am supposed to be impartial while speaking for the Chantry, but I confess that neutrality is beyond me. I may be the Divine, but I will always be your friend, and I can hardly ignore the fate of the Inquisition that I began.”

Fenris nodded. When he and Hawke had arrived this morning, Josephine and Leliana had given them the full run-down of the situation, which could be summarized in two sentences: Orlais wanted to acquire the Inquisition as a vassal and thus acquire their power and army, and Ferelden wanted to disband the Inquisition completely.

“The delegates are short-sighted and selfish,” Cassandra said brusquely. “They do not see the full scope of what you have done these past few years. The Inquisition is still needed. They do not yet understand that.”

Fenris shrugged and glanced around at the assembled nobles and politicians. He hadn’t yet told Cassandra that he’d been planning to quit the Inquisition anyway before the Exalted Council had been announced.

“We shall see what happens, I suppose,” he said. Personally, dissolving the Inquisition didn’t seem like a totally undesirable result to him. From the most selfish perspective, it would mean that Fenris would finally be free. From a more logical perspective, however, he truly felt that the Inquisition had served its primary purpose, and the more involved they got in political affairs, the more they would be stepping beyond their bounds. In his more bitter moments, Fenris sometimes felt like the Inquisition was becoming the way Solas described the making of a demon: like it was being twisted away from its original purpose into something else entirely.

And Fenris did not like the idea of the Inquisition becoming so twisted that it was no longer recognizable.

Cassandra peered at him carefully. “Are you all right, my friend? You seem troubled. Not that you have no reason to be. I mean–” She winced. “That was hardly comforting. I apologize, Fenris, I wish only to express my concern.”

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “I’m better than expected given the situation.” He thought of Hawke’s pregnancy, and his belly jumped in a happy – and nervous – way.

She looked at him in surprise. “That’s… that’s good. I’m glad to hear it.” She sighed again. “I must return to mingling with the bureaucrats. But if you need me, I’m ready to assist. Unconditionally.”

Fenris gave her a small half-bow. “Thank you, Your Holiness.”

She snorted at the formal title. “You are welcome, Inquisitor.”

He smiled at her jab, then looked around for Hawke and Teagan. The Arl was embroiled in a discussion with some other Fereldans, so Fenris quickly slipped into the crowd before Teagan could corner him.

A moment later, he saw Hawke standing with – of all people – Dorian.

Fenris raised his eyebrows, equally pleased and surprised. He hadn’t expected Dorian to be here. As he approached them, he realized that Hawke and Dorian were speaking with an Orlesian man, and that Hawke seemed to be flirting with the Orlesian, much to Dorian’s barely suppressed amusement.

Hawke smiled seductively at the Orlesian. “...and I can only imagine that your control over the Chateau is much firmer than your father’s,” she said. She slid her gaze slowly over the length of his body. “Hmm, very firm indeed.”

“That is kind of you to say, Serrah Hawke,” the Orlesian said coolly. “It is only unfortunate that my governance of the Chateau is a result of you killing my father.”

What? Fenris thought in alarm. But Hawke only batted her eyelashes. “Oh no, my lord, that’s not true.”

“I believe the truth is quite clear, Champion,” the Orlesian retorted. “If I recall correctly, I appeared on the scene to find two dozen bloody qunari corpses and my father crushed beneath his pet wyvern at the base of a cliff.”

Fenris stared at him. Now that was a familiar story.

Hawke blinked innocently. “I promise you, my lord, it wasn’t my doing. It was the wyvern. I do believe the poor beast was rabid.” She turned to Fenris with a smile. “Fenris, you’re just in time. This is Duke Cyril de Montfort.”

“All right,” Fenris said warily.

“He’s the Duke of Chateau Haine,” Hawke said sweetly. Too sweetly.

And suddenly Fenris realized who this man was. He was the son of that filthy Duke Prosper – the Duke that Fenris himself had booted off the edge of the cliff for calling Hawke a whore.

“Ah,” he said. “Er…”

“Inquisitor,” Cyril said with a deep bow. “Your lady wife was just reminding me of our shared past. She appears to have forgotten that she was responsible for my father’s untimely demise at our chateau a few years ago. Were you aware of this?”

Fenris hesitated. Cyril clearly didn’t realize that Fenris had also been present at that party. Not surprising, perhaps, since he and Anders had been skulking around in the corners trying ineffectually to sneak into the castle.

“I am aware that there was a situation at Chateau Haine a few years ago,” Fenris said carefully. “It’s fortunate that you were capable of stepping seamlessly into your late father’s shoes.”

“Exactly what I was thinking!” Hawke said brightly. “And what handsome and large shoes they are.”

Cyril cleared his throat and smoothed a hand along the front of his doublet. “You are not wrong,” he said. “The Montforts pride ourselves on being very capable leaders. And very good judges of character.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Fenris said. He turned to Dorian. “A word, Lord Pavus?”

“Certainly, Inquisitor,” Dorian said. As Dorian and Fenris moved away, Hawke continued to shamelessly flirt with Cyril. “My lord, I must ask – did you have those shoes custom-made for your size? You know what they say about men with large shoes…”

Dorian smirked at Fenris, and they chuckled. “She never gives up, does she?” Dorian said quietly.

“Never,” Fenris said, with an affectionate glance at Hawke. He clasped Dorian’s hand in welcome. “It’s good to see you. But what are you even doing here?” In order to be here now, Dorian would only have been back in the Imperium for a few weeks after their trip to the Frostback Basin. Had he been chased out of Tevinter again by a new batch of assassination attempts?

Dorian tutted. “Did Josephine not tell you? Terribly remiss of her. I am the Tevinter ambassador to the Exalted Council, at your service.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Tevinter ambassador?”

“Yes indeed,” Dorian said cheerfully. “‘A reward for my interest in the south’, if you can believe it.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “A convenient excuse to get rid of you because you are making too much noise in Minrathous, then.”

Dorian threw his head back and laughed. “Ah Fenris, how I’ve missed your subtlety. But yes, you’re right. It’s a token appointment, so consider me at your disposal.”

Fenris narrowed his eyes. “Hmm,” he said.

“Oh dear, you’re wearing the face that says you’re thinking,” Dorian said. “Don’t hurt yourself, now.”

Fenris gave him a chiding look. “If you really were just causing too much trouble in Minrathous, they would have killed you. Why send you away?”

Dorian’s smile faltered for a split second. Then he laughed. “You know, it’s both endearing and obnoxious that you’re from home. There’s just no hiding anything from you.”

Fenris waited in silence, and finally Dorian sighed. “My father is dead,” he said bluntly.

Fenris raised his eyebrows as Dorian went on. “Assassinated, I believe. I received notice this morning: a perversely cheerful letter congratulating me on assuming his seat in the Magisterium.” He shook his head slightly. “We only met a few times while I was home. He didn’t say anything about keeping me as his heir. This ‘ambassadorship’ was his doing. He must have wanted me away when the trouble began.”

“So you are truly a magister now,” Fenris said slowly.

“I certainly am,” Dorian said pleasantly. “I can’t wait to degrade the Magisterium with my presence! A new outfit is required.”

He wasn’t meeting Fenris’s eye. Fenris studied him shrewdly for a moment before speaking. “How do you feel about this appointment?”

“It’s both a blessing and a curse, pardon the trite cliché,” Dorian said. “But I won’t be entirely without support, as you know. Maevaris and I have been whipping the Lucerni into shape, and now we’ll be an actual faction in the Magisterium. I’ll teach them manners, take them shopping… it will be fun!”

Fenris eyed him appraisingly. “I expect you’ll be busy on your return home, then.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “First item on the agenda will be finding my father’s killers and killing them back. Then I’ll find those giving Tevinter a bad name and kill them. They’re most likely the same people, so that should make the job easier.”

“I see,” Fenris said.

Dorian tsked. “Now Fenris, I know what you’re thinking. The power is going to go to my head and turn me into an abomination and so on.” He delicately arranged a lock of his hair. “I’ll have you know that being an abomination would make me terribly unattractive, so I’ll continue to be my usual principled and heroic self, don’t you worry.”

Dorian’s blasé attitude and his lack of eye contact… Fenris gazed at him with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, then folded his arms and leaned back against the banister. “That’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking that I am sorry for your father’s loss.”

Dorian looked at him with open surprise, and Fenris shrugged. “He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but you were… fond of him. For that, I am sorry.”

Dorian stared at him for a moment longer, then let out a little laugh. “That was very nearly nice, thank you.” He sighed and twisted one of his rings. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

“You just received the news this morning,” Fenris reasoned. “I suspect it will be some time before it sinks in.”

“Yes, of course. I just…” He trailed off and turned around to face the sprawling palace below, and they were silent for a moment.

Fenris broke the silence. “I am also sorry for the weight of the mantle you are about to assume. It will not be easy. Especially not given… well, everything about the Imperium.”

“I know,” Dorian said softly. He shot Fenris a small smile. “Luckily, I’m not a fan of the easy route. Why else do you think I stay friends with you?”

Fenris snorted. Then Hawke skipped over to them and hugged Dorian from behind. “An overdue hug for my favourite magister!” she chirped.

“He told you his news, then?” Fenris said.

“Yes!” she said brightly. “And I told him we need to have a party tonight to celebrate.”

Fenris frowned. “To celebrate what, exactly?” As far as he was concerned, nothing that Dorian had told them was good news.

Hawke poked his belly. “To celebrate the Tevinter Imperium automatically becoming a better place with Dorian as one of the boys in charge, of course,” she exclaimed. “We’re going to call it a Gird-Your-Loins Party, because Tevinter had better–”

“–gird their loins for Dorian’s rising status,” Fenris said dryly. “I see. Well, I suppose a small party in our suite…” He trailed off; Hawke was smiling sheepishly.

He gave her a stern look. “What did you do?”

Dorian snickered, and Hawke lifted one shoulder in a coy manner. “I might already have sent someone to tell Josie to book that fancy spa area downstairs for the party.”

“What?” Fenris blurted. “No. We can’t have a party there. That’s far too public.”

Dorian lightly smacked his arm. “Ashamed to celebrate with the fresh new magister, are you?”

Fenris frowned at him. “That is not why.” He turned to Hawke and lowered his voice. “I don’t want to… Celebrating with all of these strangers around is not my idea of a good time.”

“I know, I know,” she said soothingly. “But we’ll start the party in the spa area, then move it to our suite when you’re ready to get drunk.”

Fenris wrinkled his nose. “If the party will end up in our suite, why are you insistent on starting it in the public spa?”

“Because it’s public,” Hawke said. “It’s strategic and fun, you see? If we have an enormous lovely Inquisition party and make friends with all the Orlesians and Fereldans, they won’t speak against us because they’ll love us so much!”

Fenris sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was just like her to assume that making friends was the solution. “Hawke…”

She cut him off. “Sorry, Fenris, I have to go tell Josie more details about the party,” she chirped. She kissed his cheek and started to leave, then stopped and snapped her fingers. “Oh, by the way, I buttered up that Duke Cyril fellow for you. He’s not angry about the whole Chateau Haine thing anymore, but I might have made him climax in his trousers.”

Dorian broke into incredulous coughing, and Fenris gaped at her. “Excuse me?” he demanded.

She held up her hands. “I didn’t touch him, I swear. I think he’s just kinky that way. I’ll tell you more later!” She hurried away through the crowd.

“Please don’t,” Fenris called after her.

Dorian, meanwhile, was laughing fit to burst. “Andraste’s ample bosom, I will miss you marvelous fools. I would say you should visit, but–”

“That will never happen,” Fenris said flatly.

“I wasn’t truly going to ask,” Dorian said. “It would be far too dangerous for you, anyway. But I do think I might have a solution, which I’ll show you later.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow, unsure what he meant by this. “All right. I suppose I’ll look forward to that.”

“Good. You should,” Dorian said cryptically. He stepped away from the banister. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have very busy and important business with Varric.”

Fenris huffed in amusement. “Pray tell.”

Dorian grinned. “A running bet on how long it will take before Cassandra threatens someone during the Council. Do you want in?”

Fenris hesitated, then shrugged. “All right. I’ll bet five royals that she doesn’t threaten anyone and retains her calm.”

Dorian shook his head in mock dismay. “I can’t decide if that’s adorably loyal to Cassandra, or utterly foolish. You’re on.”

Fenris smirked, and they parted ways. Dorian made a beeline for Varric, and Fenris made his way through the lower courtyard to see if he could take refuge with any other familiar faces.

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Read the second half of the banter here on AO3!

#fenris #fenris fic #Lovers in a Dangerous Time #fenris the inquisitor #fenquisition #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne #trespasser dlc #pikapeppa writes

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talesfromthefade · 7 years

Text

Eloise Trevelyan x Cullen Rutherford || SFW || 2406 words

“Ellie,” he ventures softly, one hand reaching out for her arm before hesitating halfway between them, uncertain whether his touch might be welcome. It has never been more so, but the young mage doesn’t know quite how to tell him so, watching sadly out of the corner of her eye as his arm drops before he makes contact. “Are you alright?”

“I-” she hesitates, biting her lip. “It’s foolish,” she mumbles softly, feeling a traitorous flush creeping up into her cheeks as she shakes her head.

“Tell me anyway?” The request and his expression, the desire simply to help in whatever capacity he is able, is so plain and earnest on his face telling him no seems suddenly far worse than the embarrassment of sharing the truth.

“Do you still love her,” the brunette asks softly before she can lose her nerve.

“What?”

“Warden Amell,” Eloise continues. “Marina. You knew her when she was still an apprentice, saw her become an Enchanter. ’A lovely woman,’ you said,” she reminds him.

“I-” Cullen considers frowning a little.

“I see,” Eloise nods, biting the inside of her cheek to fight down her tears.

“Ellie, wait,” he calls a bit desperately as she turns on her heel and flees the room. She doesn’t stop or look back, however until she’s reached the quiet attic alcove where Cole often resides. She doesn’t immediately see him, but trusts as she sits down in a lone chair in the corner that he will come- her desire to see him and her hurt calling out to him like a siren’s song. He appears at her sides seemingly between blinks, frowning sadly as he studies her.

“I need to be unseen, Cole,” she tells the spirit, before he can ask or say anything. There is, only one way to reach the safety and solitude of her chambers, and it will mean walking passed untold number of eyes- both friendly and entirely unknown strangers- through the great hall to get there. Any number of them staring at her unkempt and emotional state, any of them able to inform an inquiring Commander of where she has gone. “Can you help me.”

“Always,” the spirit nods without a moment’s hesitation. “But… Varric says sometimes it helps to talk about the hurts instead of trying to forget them-”

“I will,” Eloise nods in agreement. “But not yet.” It’s all too fresh just now. The young woman isn’t truly certain where she’d even begin relating it all to anyone else. “Please,” she pleads. “I just need to be alone for a while.”

“Alright,” he nods. “Take my hand?” She does, following beside him at a leisurely pace across the courtyard and through the hall until they’ve ducked behind the door and pause on the steps leading up to her room. They’ll look for her here eventually, of course, but not right away, not with no one having seen her head this way.

“Thank you, Cole.”

“Yes,” the spirit nods. “Thank you for letting me help.” Eloise doesn’t really know how the spirit feels about the gesture exactly, but she hugs him gratefully before turning back and making her way up the steps to the safety of her quarters and collapsing on her bed, grabbing and dragging a pillow into her chest and clutching it tight.

As ever the young mage feels like a fool, a child playing at knowing what she is doing- at being competent, an adult… she should have known better. Some part of her must have done. Cullen is a number of years older, but hardly past his prime and undeniably attractive on both a more superficial and a deeper more spiritual level. He will have had other loves and lovers before.

But it hurts, seeing the way he had lit up when Marina Amelia, the hero of Ferelden had walked through the gates of Skyhold, even if the other woman had made a very pointed beeline and public display of affection with her fellow and eagerly waiting warden Alastair. They are absolutely besotted with one another, she knows. Anyone with eyes could see it. That dopey grin of unadulterated happiness has not left Alistair’s face since her unexpected arrival, and Marina for her part, seems just as delighted, every bit as eager to catch up with him. From what the young mage has had the opportunity to hear about or observe herself, the former Warden Commander’s initial meeting with the leader of the Inquisition’s forces was… awkward.

They seem to have found their footing now, however, if the scene she stumbled upon with the pair side by side talking and laughing on a bench in the gardens earlier that afternoon is anything to go by. She pushes down a flare of jealousy rising up from the pit of her stomach at the thought. Marina is here to help them in their fight against Corypheus. The Inquisition cannot afford to turn down any assistance or advantage available to them. And it’s clear the other mage has no intention of straying from her lover.

That doesn’t mean she can’t have Cullen’s heart wrapped around her little finger, however. Warden Amell simply seems to have that effect on people. She is a stunningly beautiful and- Eloise reluctantly assesses-‘lovely’ woman. She’s no real right to be jealous or angry. Marina is no more responsible for her flawless ivory skin and long blonde tresses, than she for her plainer olive skin, dark brown locks, or scarred brow and cheek. More importantly, however fondly she’s come to regard Cullen there isn’t any understanding between them of any relationship besides their regular friendly chess matches and sometimes walks along the battlements trading news, reports, and occasional jokes and smiles. She’d never dreamed after what she survived in Ostewick that she might ever let a Templar- even a former one- so close. That she might allow herself to begin to fall for one. But more and more Eloise had found herself hoping…

It doesn’t matter anymore, she thinks defeatedly, burrowing her face into the pillow she’s been crushing against her and hugging tight, letting lose a muffled and frustrated shout. She feels the tears, hot and fat pouring out, beginning to soak the pillow, but doesn’t fight them anymore. Foolish, she thinks, scolding herself. To think that she could be happy in the midst of all of this. That she even deserves to be. That someone like him could ever…

A gentle series of knocks on the door interrupts her inner-monologue. The young mage stands, crossing the room to check her reflection in the mirror, brushing off tears with the sleeve of her robes and fixing the more flyway and wild strands of her hair, until she’s decided she looks- presentable at least for whichever member of her inner circle is calling upon her. Josephine, with another proposed meet and greet with some important noble or other perhaps, she muses as she makes her way to the door to admit the advisor. In her time with the Inquisition, particularly since accepting the role of Inquisitor, Eloise has become far better and more patient in the ways of the game than she ever was as a younger girl. Had she not suffered the misfortune of being 'cursed’ with magic, it’s entirely possible she would have proved everything her mother and father once hoped for as the next head of house Trevelyan, though she shudders to think what manner of suitors they might have proposed for her.

But it is not the young and bright Antivan woman who waits on the opposite side of the door. “Eloise,” Cullen starts softly as startled and wide hazel eyes meet his own amber ones, the young mage’s mind already frantic grasping for excuses, someplace else to quickly flee to. “I-” he hesitates, suddenly seeming to realize where they both are, the possible impropriety of his being her quarters, and blushing ever so slightly. “Could we talk? Please,” he asks gently.

She doesn’t want to. Doesn’t need to hear whatever excuse or apology he may have to soften the blow or attempt to soothe her bruised pride and ego. She’s grown sadly accustomed to not being anyone’s first choice. Even here in the Inquisition she knows Cassandra and Leliana had sought out Marina and Hawke to lead them all before a strange twist of fate had delivered her to them. Whatever it is he’s come to say, Eloise is quite sure she hasn’t hardened herself enough yet to hear. But she nods, not trusting her own voice yet where her throats feels like it’s swollen shut, and gently steps back to let him in.

He closes the door behind himself, but waits to follow her up the stairs, pointedly stopping near her desk far from the bed and her more personal effects. His hands glide for a moment, seemingly on instinct towards the familiar stance of resting on the pommel of his sword before he catches himself, and Eloise notices for the first time that he has taken the time between when last he saw her to shed most of his usual armor in favor of a more relaxed tunic and trousers. He’s still armed, because it wouldn’t really do to be caught off guard, but stops himself before he can rest in his sword as he so often dies, and instead allows one to travel up to run through his hair and rub the back of his neck. A nervous habit, she recognizes with some confusion, though she can’t imagine what he might be nervous about. She is human, yes. Grieving a bit for something she had no right or reason to dare hope for, but is he really so afraid she might not be able to handle his rejection? That she might allow it to affect things between them professional or make he or the Inquisition pay for her childish mistake?

“You asked me if I still loved Marina Amell,” Cullen begins finally, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, then presses forward. “The truth is… I don’t know,” he admits with a small frown. Eloise nods, mostly on instinct, even as her heart clenches, encouraging the other to continue. “Even now, it’s difficult to sort out how much of it was idolization and youthful infatuation on my part- perhaps hers as well. I think, perhaps I did- love her once. And I think-” he hesitates again, worrying his lip a little as he considers how best to proceed. “Maybe, when you love someone- really love them, that you always do, no matter what happens or however much time passes.”

Eloise looks away, first at the stone floor, before turning her gaze over his shoulder to the mountains beyond the balcony. She will hear him out, but meeting his gaze-those bright and burning amber eyes- seeing what can only be pity there is too much for her to bear now.

“But things change. Just as we all do,” he presses on, cautiously reaching out to take her hand and hold it between his own. “I read once somewhere that there are many kinds of love, but never the same one twice,” he smiles a little, the expression pulling a little at the small scar that rests above his lip, and Eloise does her best to keep her composure. “I didn’t think to find love again. For many years I wasn’t ready to, and many more I didn’t think I deserved to. I’m still not entirely convinced,” he admits truthfully, in a rather uncharacteristically vulnerable declaration of feeling that simultaneously breaks her heart and makes her long to hold and comfort him.

“You’re the Inquisitor,” he continues, shaking his head. “We’re at war. These last few months, I’ve cherished every moment we have spent together, but I never really thought it was possible. Seeing the way you became upset about me spending time with Warden Amell this afternoon… it gave me hope,” the commander admits causing the young mage’s gaze to snap immediately back to his in utterly bewildered surprise. “Not that, that was my intention in speaking to and spending time with her,” the Commander adds hastily, a bit more like himself, or at least the side of him the young mage has seen more of in their stolen moments of peace and solitude together. “Is that wrong? To hope? Am I foolish to-” he begins, but Eloise cuts him short, rushing forward to close the gap between them and stopping his speech and train of thought as her lips crash into his.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing precisely and is entirely grateful when after a moment’ shock Cullen takes over, enthusiastically returning the embrace and kiss, arms wrapping around her and pulling her close. The young mage’s hands fly about searching and learning his body through the cotton of his tunic, before one comes to land over his breast, thrilling at the way she can feel the muscles his armor often hides, can feel his heart beating, hammering beneath her flattened palm. The other continues traveling, first across the expanse of his back to pull and hold him close, his neck to keep his lips pressed to hers, then finally tangling in his hair as his own larger hand has done in her rich brown curls.

“Ellie,” Cullen whispers breathlessly, smiling softly, and Eloise feels as though her heart is fit to burst.

“No, Cullen,” she replies finally, beaming and shaking her head when they break away ever so slightly to catch their breath. “It isn’t foolish.” Though perhaps they are, for dancing around this and one another for so long, she thinks fondly, mind still reeling that this can possibly be anything more than a dream.

“Maker El, I-” Cullen replies a bit breathlessly. He bites the inside of his cheek. Courage Rutherford, he thinks steeling himself, you’ve said everything but and she hasn’t thrown you from her quarters yet. Maker’s breath, but it’s only now occurring to him where they are, the impropriety of it all being alone together in her chambers. “You are-” he begins again, before shaking his head with a soft huff of amusement. He’s never been known for poetry. Short and direct, more than anything. “I have never felt anything like this,” he manages finally.

“Neither have I,” Eloise replies, unable to hold back the smile that spreads across her face, “but I like it.”

#eloise trevelyan #tales:eloise #cullen rutherford #cullen x trevelyan

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quickspinner · 7 years

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Let Me Forget the Sky, CH 1

A DA:I Fanfic

The differences between them seem as large as the riven sky, but the cause that unites them turns out to be the least of the bonds between them. The Inquisitor and the Commander’s romance, told in the moments between, with as little game recap as I can manage.

Prologue ** Chapter 2 ** Fiction Master Post

Chapter 1: A New Idea

He was certain there must have been a time when life was “normal” but he wasn’t sure there was anyone in Thedas who remembered what it was like. First the Blight and the years of upheaval it caused, then the chaos of the mage-templar war, and now…that.

Cullen stood outside of his command tent and stared up at the rift in the sky, glowing a sickly green. Solas said that spirits were being drawn through the rift against their will, the trauma turning them into demons. Cullen respected Solas’ efforts to help, though the mage’s attitude sometimes grated, but it had been difficult enough for Cullen to make some kind of peace with his feelings about mages. It was still too much to ask him to feel sorry for demons, whether they had any choice in the matter or not. A cold, clammy feeling mixed oddly with the perpetual lyrium ache in his gut. He wondered if the demons he’d fought during the battle knew. Could they sense those who had been touched before? Was it a weakness they were drawn to or a warning that he would not be taken easily?

He shook himself from dark thoughts and scolded himself to focus on the things he could change. The Inquisition had been declared and denounced. They were on their own now, the only ones willing to do what must be done. Cullen had made great progress in trying to put his past behind him, and he could not allow himself to fall back into that place now. Especially not when they might need the rebel mages to close the Breach.

The thought of an entire horde of mages descending on the camp made his skin crawl despite his efforts to be neutral. Many of those mages had been out of the Circle’s control for some time. There was no knowing how many of them were corrupt. It was easier dealing with individual mages like Solas, Vivienne, and Lavellan, people he could look in the eye and know as more than mages. It was work to control the paranoia that whispered to him in Meredith’s voice when the mages were a faceless group of which he knew little.

He went his rounds through the soldier’s camp, speaking individually to his lieutenants and making sure to check on the newest set of recruits. They had come trickling in as word of the Inquisition spread, giving various reasons for joining up but all sweeping the camp for a glimpse of the Herald of Andraste as they spoke to him. He answered a few questions–yes, she was Dalish, yes, she was a mage–and deflected others–was she really the Herald, was she as beautiful as Andraste–and wondered what they would think when they met her.

He listened patiently to Rylen’s blistering opinion of Havens logistical disadvantages, an opinion which he shared but, as Commander, couldn’t properly voice in such terms. “Threnn is working on it,” he told his second, knowing it would do little to soothe Rylen.

“Threnn is useless,” Rylen snorted. “And that merchant, Segrit or whatever his name is, he’s a crook. Half the soldiers are in debt to him already. The only one doing anything about this mess is the Herald. Seems like a little bit of a thing, but I guess she knows how to get things done. Maybe we should’ve hired a Dalish quartermaster if they all work this fast.”

“Has the Herald spoken to you?” Cullen asked, a little surprised at Rylen’s praise. Generally the Knight-Captain was stingy with it.

“Not directly, no,” Rylen admitted. “But every time she comes back to camp she delivers another batch of supplies. If we have to have a Herald of Andraste, I’m glad we got one that doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty.” Rylen seemed to hesitate, and Cullen raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t like Rylen to hold back.

“How do you want me to handle the camp talk, Ser?” Rylen asked. “The slurs–knife-ear and such, and rumors about the Dalish.”

Cullen frowned. “You’ve been hearing such things?”

“Mostly from the career soldiers,” Rylen told him. “The recruits coming in from the country, they mostly come because of the rumors of the Herald, but the others, the ones who aren’t so starry-eyed, they talk like they always do about women and elves.”

“Make sure you keep me informed about what they’re saying,” Cullen said after a moment of thought. “If there’s any true danger to the Herald, we’ll need to know. On second thought, I’ll speak to Leliana about it, her people are better equipped to follow up on rumors. In the meantime, we’ll make some public examples.”

“Got it,” Rylen grinned. “Knock some heads, do some shouting.”

“Make it clear that kind of talk won’t be tolerated anymore,” Cullen nodded. “I’ll do the same if I hear it. It probably won’t change their minds, but…”

“Don’t care what they think as long as they keep it in their heads,” Rylen shrugged. “As you say, Commander. I’ll take care of it, best I can.”

Cullen nodded and glanced up at the sun. “Carry on, Captain,” he said, shifting his sword to rest more more comfortably on his hip, and turned away, heading into the Chantry for the war council. He was early and therefore a little surprised to find everyone except Lavellan already gathered. He hesitated slightly at the door, but Cassandra tipped her head in invitation and he joined them, closing the door behind him.

“Commander. I’m glad you’re here. Before the Herald arrives, I would like to have a brief discussion regarding appointing an Inquisitor to lead us.”

“Ah–” Cullen looked at Leliana and Josephine for help, but both might as well be wearing Orlesian masks for all the expression they displayed. “I’m sorry, I just assumed…”

“I would not have spent months scouring half of Thedas for the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion of Kirkwall if Most Holy had wanted me to lead this Inquisition,” Cassandra said with a shrug.

“I understand, but surely the situation is different now,” Cullen replied, advancing to his accustomed place at the table. “There is no more time to find someone else.”

“That is not entirely true. For the moment, this council will suffice. What must be done now can be done without an Inquisitor,” Cassandra replied. “There is still time to see if there is someone else more capable.”

“Someone else–” Abruptly Cullen understood. “You can’t mean Lavellan?”

“You disagree?” Leliana asked, her voice, as always, deceptively soft and smooth, giving nothing of her own thoughts away.

Cullen hesitated. “I’m…not sure exactly. She’s not–” he paused, collecting his thoughts. “I knew both the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall, as did you, I know.”

“I met Hawke only briefly,” Leliana demurred.

Cullen gestured acknowledgement. “Even before she was taken by the Wardens, Seriana was a presence. She was only an apprentice but when she walked through the halls, people - mages and templars alike - made room for her without even thinking about it. And Hawke was,” he shook his head, “Hawke was like a force of nature. She barely made an effort to hide what she was, but it hardly mattered because even the Knight-Commander was reluctant to take her on, with good reason as it turned out. The Herald is different, she doesn’t have that overpowering charisma. She’s quieter, less noticeable. And she seems…uncertain. Or perhaps just uncommitted.”

“Perhaps a little of both,” Leliana mused. “It’s true that she doesn’t have the same confidence or presence as our first choices. But consider the position she is in. I have been doing some checking and the Lavellan clan interacted with humans far more than most Dalish, but she has still found herself in a world - in a religion, even, that is not her own. Perhaps it is well that she is an…unconventional hero. Proof that the Maker can use anyone to his good purposes, as long as the vessel is willing. Perhaps she will stand as a reminder that we are all the Maker’s children, and the differences we draw between us are nothing in His eyes.”

Cullen grunted. “Now you’re talking publicity and politics. Not my area.”

“Have you so low an opinion of my faith?” Leliana asked, a teasing smile tugging her lips beneath her hood.

“No, of course not,” Cullen said immediately. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply–”

Leliana waved away his apology. “At any rate, there is nothing for us to do but wait and see. I think there is more to her than what we have seen. When she has gotten her footing a little, seen for herself what is at stake here, then we can judge the truth.”

“I believe Leliana is right,” Josephine put in. “There is also this: because the Dalish are so insular, she is without many of the biases that most of us are burdened with. Mage, templar, Orlesian, Ferelden, these distinctions mean less to her than they do to us.”

“That is true,” Cassandra said drily. “For the most part, the Dalish hate all humans equally.”

“Many of them with good reason,” Leliana put in.

Josephine shrugged. “Yet she has not rejected this whole operation out of hand. She handled her first brush with nobility rather well, if a bit more sarcastically than I would prefer. But then, she is not the only one among us with that problem.” She raised an eyebrow at Cullen, who merely rolled his eyes back at her. Josephine smiled and continued thoughtfully, “Of course we know very little about the Dalish and there is so much variation between clans, it is hard to say anything with certainty, but commonly there are very few mages permitted in any single clan. I do think she is too young to be the clan’s Keeper, nor do I think they would send their leader into such danger. However, from speaking to her, I believe it is very likely that she was apprenticed to the Keeper, and next in line to lead the clan. If so, she is no stranger to responsibility or leadership, which is promising.”

“Hopefully that means she will be comfortable leading a team in the field,” Cullen said thoughtfully. “The Dalish must field small units by necessity, so surely she has experience in that area, though she may not be used to coordinating with larger forces.”

“She is a capable enough fighter, I will grant her that,” Cassandra observed. “Though she may yet prove too difficult to work with. She was even prickly with Solas.”

“The Dalish don’t have a high opinion of city elves,” Leliana pointed out. “And Solas can be a bit…prickly himself.”

“Very true,” Cassandra conceded with a small nod. “And I must say that her interactions with civilians so far have been considerably less antagonistic than her responses to us.”

Leliana’s soft tone was sober, almost sad. “Consider, also, that the first thing we did was clap her in irons and accuse her of the murder of hundreds. She is a mage, and an elf - a Dalish elf at that. I doubt she believes there is any justice to be found for her in a Chantry trial. She has no choice but to remain with us and do as we ask, for now. If she tries to leave Chancellor Roderick will have whatever remaining Chantry forces he can gather hunting her. But we must win her to our cause if she is to lead us, even as a figurehead.”

Cassandra sighed impatiently. “It is useless to speculate more. We will do what we must, and we will all have to adapt as the situation evolves. We simply don’t know enough - about anything. What happened at the Conclave, the Breach, the Herald. We can do little until we have more information. All I ask is that you all observe her and consider whether she may be fit for the role of Inquisitor.”

“Is that really our plan?” Cullen asked incredulously. “Wait and see?”

“We will not sit idly by,” Cassandra said, a bit tartly. “There is more than enough to be done before we are secure enough to make any major moves.”

“True enough,” Josephine said, and at that moment, the door opened, and Lavellan stepped inside. “Ah, Herald. Welcome,” Josephine smiled and bobbed her head slightly, as if they hadn’t just all been discussing Lavellan behind her back. “Shall we begin?”

With this new idea in mind, Cullen studied Lavellan as the meeting went on, as covertly as he could manage. She was serious and thoughtful, soft-spoken but decisive. Capable, he thought, but hardly inspiring. He remembered that flash of humor from her that had caught him so off guard the last time they’d spoken, the lopsided smile that had completely disarmed him, and wondered if that momentary connection was a sign of something more. Eventually Josephine caught him distracted, and he put the matter aside to focus on what was in front of him. All in all, he thought as the meeting ended and he moved toward the door, they’d gotten a surprising amount of work done. His mind flew back to the thousand other concerns he had to manage, and he was already a million miles away when a quiet question stopped him in his tracks.

“Commander, may I speak with you?”

Cullen halted, jolted back to reality. “Yes?” he said rather stupidly, trying to bring his focus down to the elven woman in front of him.

“I don’t want to keep you,” she said, gesturing to the door. “Shall we walk while we talk?”

“Of course,” Cullen said, resuming his step but pausing to allow Lavellan through the door first with a slight, habitual bow. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“That is actually what I wanted to ask you,” said Lavellan, pausing just a breath to let him come along side her as they moved into the hallway. “I understand we’re having trouble getting the wounded tended to. Is there anything we can do about it?”

“Not unless you have a bevvy of healing mages secreted away somewhere,” Cullen replied grimly. “The healers we have on hand are doing their best, magical and otherwise, but there simply aren’t enough of them to deal with the refugees and our soldiers.”

“I don’t, sadly,” Lavellan sighed through her nose. “My clan would not part with our healers even temporarily, and my talents don’t lie in that direction. Our Second was a much more talented healer so I didn’t pursue it, and while I know some of the herbalist healers’ crafts by necessity, what I know is more about supplies and preparation than application. But perhaps I can review the poultices and brews your healers are using and see if I know anything that can help. Is there nowhere we can send for aid?”

He glanced at her and saw that she knew there wasn’t, but shook his head anyway, since she’d felt the need to ask the question. “We may get a few people trickling in who can help, but it’s not as if we can petition the Circle to send us some healers.”

“Magic isn’t the only way to heal, just the fastest,” replied Lavellan. “What about other sources? Are there schools for other kinds of healers we can apply to? Even apprentices would be something, and could ease the load on Adan and whatever mages we have.”

Cullen shook his head again, pausing to hold open the big chantry door for her. “If we had more influence, we might be able to recruit at such places in Denerim or Val Royeaux, but as it stands most of our influence is among the country folk we’ve been protecting from demons, rogue mages, and templars. The healers there seldom have more than one or two students at a time, like Adan.”

“And they’re badly needed where they are,” Lavellan muttered thoughtfully.

“You seem very concerned,” Cullen observed. He hadn’t thought her so invested in their cause.

“The Dalish do not send our hunters out without support, nor leave them to languish from their wounds,” Lavellan said tersely. “And I am not one who can watch suffering without action. Where will your army be, Commander, if your men die from lack of care? What good will the Inquisition do if it cannot even look after its own?”

“I do not need you to lecture me on what my men suffer,” Cullen retorted. “I know it well, I assure you.”

Lavellan opened her mouth to respond and then stopped, taking a deep breath. “Of course,” she said after a moment. “Forgive my harsh words, Commander. I know well the frustration of trying to do much with little and I don’t mean to lecture you.”

“Well,” Cullen said, finding he couldn’t be really angry with her when she seemed so honestly concerned, “I suppose it is your turn.”

She laughed at that, short and sharp but it made him smile. “Well. Now we’re even, aren’t we? Perhaps we can discuss a solution more amicably.”

“I welcome any advice you can give us,” Cullen told her. “But I fear that the best thing we can do is spread the Inquisition’s influence and deal with that.” He waved a hand at the Breach. “If that doesn’t bring the support we need to get a full complement of healers then nothing will. In the meantime, keeping the healers we have well supplied must be a priority. Trade lines have been a problem. Haven is very isolated. The roads have improved significantly since the temple was discovered, but between the explosion and the chaos of the war, finding people willing to bring trade up here is difficult.” He sighed, his frustration showing on his face. “We haven’t so many soldiers that I can afford to send them out shopping, nor to guard servants who go out to gather supplies.”

Lavellan chuckled a little and he raised his eyebrows. “Sorry,” she shrugged, still grinning. “It’s just–welcome to the life of the outcast, Commander. These are problems the Dalish face every day, but hopefully that means I can help there. I’ll stop by your tent later, we can discuss strategies for getting what you need. In the meantime, I’ll bring in what I can myself.”

“That would be appreciated, Herald.” Remembering his conversation with Rylen, he added, “I understand you’ve already been a great help with the supplies. Thank you for taking the time.”

“Thank you for speaking with me, Commander,” Lavellan said, putting a hand on his arm. He tried not to flinch. “I know you’re very busy and I appreciate you taking the time to discuss the problem with me, even if there is nothing more that can be done.”

“Of course,” Cullen said, and Lavellan turned away. Cullen lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck as he watched her go, feeling vaguely unsettled. For a mage to so casually touch a templar–former templar–was rather unusual.

“A copper for your thoughts, Commander.”

Cullen jumped. “Maker’s breath, Leliana!”

“My apologies,” she said, but he could hear the laughter in her voice. “I was just wondering what you thought of that little encounter.”

He didn’t bother to question why she’d been listening. “I hardly know,” he admitted. “I’ll admit I haven’t known her for very long, but she just–never seems to be what I expect.”

“Perhaps that is because she isn’t what you expect,” Leliana suggested, folding her arms as she looked towards where Lavellan had paused to speak with Threnn. “I understand your concerns. But you must remember, Seriana was a circle mage. She learned early on that the Circle could be an ugly place and so she wore her power as openly as she could. It gained her respect and safety but it also isolated her. I didn’t know Hawke as well, but my instinct is that she may have had an innate tendency towards aggressiveness, but she cultivated it once she realized it kept people at a distance. As an apostate, and as powerful as she was, people were probably already uneasy around her without realizing why. Being so pushy gave people a reason for their uneasiness, so that they were less likely to look too closely. But our Herald is different. She had no need to hide, but neither was she surrounded by those who were her equal in power. An entirely different approach was required, and that is why she seems so surprising to us.”

“What you’re saying,” Cullen said, shifting his weight back and resting his hand on his sword hilt as he considered, “Is that she’s learned not to show too openly what she is, so that she doesn’t frighten people.”

“Yes and no.” Leliana shook her head slightly. “You’re still thinking like a templar. You say that as if her intention is to deceive, to convince people she is not dangerous when she really is. Yet she is accomplished, in control of her power, and she is not a maleficar. She is in fact, not dangerous, any more than any other warrior in perfect control of their weapon. Perhaps if you stop looking for the double motives behind her action, you will stop being surprised at them.”

“Strange advice to come from you of all people,” Cullen said, and then regretted it as unkind. “But thank you. I will think on what you’ve said.”

“I know you will,” Leliana said with a smile, as she passed by towards her own pavilion. “Consider also if more mages might be like her if they weren’t raised to fear both themselves and the world.”

Cullen rolled his eyes as he turned away. He and Leliana had gone over their differences of opinion on mage rights many times by now but she remained steadfast in her belief that mages should be free. She had been there when the Wardens took back Kinloch Hold. She had seen the aftermath of the chaos in Kirkwall. If that wasn’t enough to convince her, he doubted any words of his would do so.

As he continued back towards his command tent he glanced once more back at Lavellan, thinking again of Cassandra’s words. He wondered what Cassandra had seen out in the field with the Herald, what made her think Lavellan could walk in the steps of heroes.

Well. Time would show. For now, he had work to do.

Chapter 2 ** Fiction Master Post

Author’s Note: This setup chapter was a little difficult for me, and I hope it doesn’t drag too much, but the next section is mostly complete and will pick things up a little bit. Thanks for reading!

#commander cullen #cullavellan #fics

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l8rose · 7 years

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Dead Gods Still Dream

Dead Gods Still Dream Chapter 35: Kirkwall

The travel to Kirkwall went quicker then I thought.

Abelas rarely let me keep watch and my nights were filled with strange dreams. Solas visited almost every night but the dreams were weirder on the nights he did not arrive as if he was keeping the stranger parts of the fade at bay.

One particular dream had been about the hall where Radinan had held me captive or at least I believed it was that place. The ceiling was completely gone and there were always stars overhead as if I was looking into the night sky. The place was stripped clean of anything that hinted at people. No chairs, no tables, nothing.

The spirits were there, or at least it looked like them. They were in the guise of demons with the Desire demon always the one who came to talk to me. Each and every time, I woke up before anything could be said.

Both Abelas and Solas believed they were trying to tell me something but their grip on the fade was tenuous at best. They had been changed too much by stepping through the rift I made.

It was just another thing added to the long list of things I had to fix.

I was still thinking over it all when we arrived at the gates of Kirkwall.

I could barely remember what the city looked like but it was a lot less friendly looking then what I could remember. We could see the giant statues as we approached, rising into the sky like fearsome protectors. I had no idea why Varric wanted to live in a place like this but then, people called the strangest places home.

“I do not like this place.” Abelas voiced his concern in ancient Elvhen as we approached. He quickly went silent as we neared others walking on the road.

I nodded in agreement to him but said nothing as I led the way into the city proper. There were guards but no one stopped us from entering.

It was just as one would expect of a large city. People everywhere. Beggars, merchants, guards, and everything in between. It bustled with life and energy.

Occasionally, someone would glance towards Abelas but otherwise ignored me. His armour did stand out quite a bit compared to what everyone else was wearing. I realized I would have to find something less ancient Elvhen for him if he truly did want to attempt to fit in with the people when he needed to.

We stayed close as we went through the throngs of people and I tried to remember where Varric would be in all of this. It had been years since I had seen him last and I simply could not remember where he would be.

The press of people around me made it harder for me to think. Their voices rising in a cacophony of noise made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself but it was hard. I had not encountered this many people in years. There had been far less at Solas' keep and they had all parted for me to pass.

“We will need directions, I think.” I said over my shoulder to Abelas who nodded in agreement.

Forcing our way through the crowd, we managed to get off the main street. I realized then that Abelas was frowning at me.

“What is it?” I asked in ancient Elvhen.

“Rest here. I will find information.”

I scowled but he was quickly on his way back out into the group of people before I could say a word.

People still moved about the side street but it was a relief not to have someone jostling my horse every few seconds. I gently stroked the creature's neck and I was just glad the creature was far calmer in the crowd then I was. I did not even want to consider what it would be like to wander through here with a skittish horse.

I stopped petting the horse when I felt something beside me. It was almost like a sudden increase in heat next to me but it also flickered, like a candle.

“I told Varric you are here.” Cole's voice came from between the horse and the wall.

He looked almost human as he stood there. That big hat shadowing his face as he kept to the shadows.

“Cole!” I said with a smile before sliding off the horse to give the spirit a hug which he awkwardly returned. “It is good to see you, Cole.”

He felt as real as any other person but I knew better.

“You are tired.” Cole said with a tilt of his head.

“It's nothing.” I shook my head and tried to alleviate his concerns. “Just...”

“Not used to the people.” Cole finished for me. “Big. So many people. Hard to think.”

“Yes, well. I haven't really been in large crowds without something bad happening.”

“Nothing bad will happen. He will protect you.”

“I don't want people to protect me, Cole.” I wrinkled my nose.

“I know.” Cole bobbed his head. “You are strong, but he sees. He knows. Endless sleep, endless dreams.”

“Abelas won't let me do much on my own.” I said with a small laugh.

“Abelas...?” Cole cocked his head. “Oh yes. He sees too. Not as much but he sees.”

I blinked, realizing that the first he was not Abelas. I had the feeling that he was referring to Solas but I was not entirely sure about that.

“Cole?” I questioned.

“Ah, there you are.” A voice from down the side street had me glancing over the horse towards a group of town guards walking in my direction.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Cole had vanished once more. Sighing, I stepped from around the horse to get a better look at the people approaching.

The speaker was a woman with red hair and a uniform that clearly marked her as being the leader of the group of guards.

“My apologies, Lady Lavellan, we were only just made aware of your arrival.” Something about the way she carried herself almost reminded me of Cullen. Almost like she was being crushed by a sense of duty but yet loved every moment of it.

“Ethara is fine.” I responded, wrinkling up my nose.

“Ethara.” A small smile cracked the stern line of her face. “I am Guard Captain Aveline, Varric sent me to fetch you.”

“Oh... you're that Aveline.” I stared at her.

Strangely, the Tale of the Champion was one of the things that I could remember clearly. Perhaps because I had read it so many times. Seeing Aveline here was a bit surprising.

“I thought you left Kirkwall after the Chantry -” I continued.

“Don't believe everything you read in Varric's books.” Aveline said with a small laugh, cutting me off before I continued. “I remained in Kirkwall after Hawke and the others were forced to flee.”

“Well, pleasure to meet you, Miss Aveline.”

“If I'm to call you Ethara, you may call me Aveline.” She said with a small nod before gesturing to my horse. “If you'd mount back up, we'll lead you to the Keep.”

“Certainly but I need to wait for my companion to come back.” I responded as I climbed back into the saddle. “He went to ask about where Varric would be.”

Aveline flashed me a strange look, like she was about to question that but thought better of it. She nodded over towards two of the guards before speaking to me.

“What would he look like?”

I did my best to give a description of Abelas, from the horse to the armour. The guards quickly made themselves scarce as they followed her orders to seek him out.

“There, they will inform your friend where you can be found. Varric was fairly insistent that I get you up to the Keep as soon as possible.” Aveline motioned for me to follow.

I thought about it. About refusing and just waiting there for Abelas to return but there seemed to be a sincerity about the woman that made me want to go with her.

I also had the sneaking suspicion that Cole had informed Varric that I was drained.

I turned the horse in her direction and urged it forward. The guards all fell in step near the horse with Aveline walking just ahead of me.

She led us through the streets, keeping to the back ways instead of the main streets. I eyed her back suspiciously until we came out in front of a set of stairs leading up to a rather large building. There were more of those statues but it looked like they had gone through some effort to at least make it look friendlier.

“You'll need to leave your horse here, I'm afraid.” Aveline said as a guard stepped forward to take the reins of my horse. I must have looked startled as Aveline quickly spoke again. “Don't worry, nothing will happen to the horse and there are plenty of guards here. You'll be alright. Varric's offices will be up the stairs to the left once you enter the Keep.”

I shot her a questioning look before climbing off the horse.

She merely smiled and beckoned for me to continue on my way. I was not quick enough to ask as she had turned to speak to another nearby guard, clearly giving him instructions about my horse and general guard behaviour.

Sighing, I climbed up the stairs on my own and entered the building.

I remembered what Solas' Keep had been like, teeming full of elves, but this was completely different. It was full of people from all the races of Thedas. Elves, humans, dwarves, even a qunari or two. They were all chattering away at one another, some louder then others.

Guards stood along the walls and at the foot of the stairs.

It seems the city had done alright since the days of the Champion. I would never believe it if someone told me that the Qunari had ransacked the Keep. The damage was almost nonexistent at this point.

I straightened myself as I walked. My head held high like the Inquisitor I was supposed to be.

Thankfully, no one really cared about the lone elf walking up the stairs towards the Seneschal's office. I was only stopped by the guard standing at the door.

“State your business.” His tone was gruff and his gaze was harsh.

“I'm here to see Varric Tethras.”

“You and every other person.” His voice became downright dismissive.

“He's expecting me.” I said with a shrug. Caution had me keeping my name to myself, given that Cassandra was supposed to be impersonating the Inquisitor in the South.

He stared at me but did not move.

“Just go tell Varric that his expected guest is here.”

The guard next to him just rolled his eyes before stepping into the room. I had no idea whether he was irritated with me or his fellow guardsman.

I could not really see much through the small crack, nor could I really hear anything.

The other guard came out shortly before nodding to me.

“You can go in.” He said simply.

I stepped between them and through the door but I could hear the first guard complaining to the other. I tuned him out as I shut the door behind me.

I turned around and found myself caught in an almost rib crushing hug from Varric.

“It's damn good to see you.”

I returned the hug even as I felt a little teary eyed. I had only seen Solas, Cole and Bull since I returned from behind the veil. The full weight of that hitting me like a blow.

“Hey now!” Varric said, a small chuckle coming from the dwarf. “No crying. If you start, then I'll start and that will just be terrible.”

“It is good to see you, Varric.” I said, giving him another little squeeze before letting him go.

“Come on, sit down.” He stepped away and motioned towards the desk on the other side of the room.

The papers were piled high beside a quill that looked like it had been used quite often. Two chairs were situated around it, one clearly having been moved from the other side of the desk.

I quickly glanced around the room as I walked over. A window to let in light, a small fireplace, a lot of shelves full of books and parchments. It looked every inch the room of a Lord.

“I forgot that you had taken over Kirkwall.” I smiled as I sat in the chair.

“Yeah, Dorian told us about you being through time and stuck behind the veil.” He grimaced a little as he sank into the opposing chair. “That must have been hell of a thing. How did you manage to get out?”

“The Breach tore holes in the veil,” I answered, knowing that he meant my imprisonment in the fade. “It took a while before I was brave enough to try going near one of the little rifts but I managed to get through one. Remember that rift we closed that had no demons around it?”

“I thought that had been a little strange.” He chuckled. “That was you on your way out?”

“I didn't quite mean to but yes, that was me.”

“Took out a full rift worth of demons by yourself, getting quite powerful kiddo.”

“You do realize I'm now thousands of years older then you, right?” I could not help but smile at him.

Varric had always been one of those guys that you could not help but laugh and smile with. Sure, he was capable of some pretty large lies but he was not cruel or evil. Every lie he had said had always been for a good reason, or at least the ones I knew he had said.

“Let's not think too hard on that.” He shook his head with a grimace. “At least not until I'm good and drunk.”

“If we had the time to get you that drunk...” I laughed.

“Right, problems in Thedas.” That grimace deepened. “That's why you're here, isn't it? Dorian said something about the elves taking you to spend time in uthenera.”

“Yes,” I stopped laughing. “Apparently I overstepped my skills a little and needed to rest. Dorian managed to pass on the message that things were going badly but he was really, really out of it.”

“I imagine he's mentioned the war in Tevinter then?” Varric said with a quirk of his head. I nodded and so he continued. “We've had an influx of people fleeing the conflict, a lot more elves coming south then staying there.”

“I thought they had a community in the Arlathan Forest?”

“They do but the refugees coming south? Those are kids. Old people.” He sighed. “They wouldn't admit it but they're all the ones the others sent south to keep safe.”

I stared at him in surprise. This Myal in the north was sending away all those who could not defend themselves. That meant they had to be gearing themselves up for battle. There was no other reason why they would do such a thing.

“Do you know that for certain?” I found myself asking.

“Yes.” Varric nodded. “They won't talk to my people but they will talk to the Sabrae Clan.”

“The Sabrae Clan?” The name was familiar but I just could not place them.

“Dalish elves that live just outside Kirkwall. I can arrange for you to meet with their Keeper.” He paused for a moment, thinking about that. “Actually, I probably should do that anyway. She'll be pretty upset that I didn't bring you to visit her if you left without going.”

“You're on good terms with the Keeper of a Dalish clan?”

I was a little sceptical of that. Varric was a friendly man but the Dalish were not that keen on outsiders, especially ones that were not elves and generally not with the people ruling cities. Clan Lavellan had been different but that difference had cost them their lives.

“Of course. It's my old friend Merrill.” He said with a grin that reached ear to ear.

“That's the one from the book?” I asked although I was a little surprised. If I remembered the story right, she had attempted to make a deal with a demon which had ended badly. I really could not remember how terrible but just that it had been bad.

“Yes and I know what you're thinking.” His eyes twinkled. “After the destruction of the chantry, there was a lot of problems here in Kirkwall and with the elves. Merrill is the one who pulled them all together. Dalish and city elves. Things aren't the same here as they are elsewhere, elves aren't as hated because of the things her and Carver pulled off.”

“Her and Carver?”

“Ah yeah, left that out too.” A slightly sheepish look. I assumed it was just another thing he left out of the book as I had no idea about this Carver. “Carver Hawke has pretty much been by her side ever since they left Kirkwall. He's pretty accepted by the elves in the clan as well.”

I did not believe that. There was accepting that the Clan was more like Clan Lavellan and friendlier with outsiders but to have an actual human in the Clan and tied to the Keeper. That was just a little too unbelievable.

I suppose being related to the Champion of Kirkwall might have helped a little with it but it was still surprising.

“Trust me. It's the truth. Clan Sabrae has taken in a lot more then just Carver when it comes to humans.” He was back to smiling again. “They've even taken in some elf blooded kids. It's mostly elves there but they seemed to take after a particular elf that decided to save the world regardless of what everyone else thought of her.”

I felt a blush creeping all the way to the tips of my ears.

“You made an impact, even here. Especially since I was walking proof.” He shrugged before getting up. “After the Chantry, you doing all that was what people needed to realize that if we all don't work together, things were never going to change. Merrill started that change here by rounding up Clan Sabrae and anyone else who needed a home.”

“I definitely need to meet this Merrill then.” I nodded with a smile even though I sincerely hoped that he had not been promoting me as someone larger then life to them.

“You'll also be pleased to know that there are survivors of Clan Lavellan there as well.”

“Really?” That was a pleasant surprise. “I thought they were all up near... “ I paused, not quite remembering the name of the other city.

“Wycome.” Varric provided with a look of sympathy but it was clear that gave him an opening to something that was bothering him. “Look... I know it's not a question you've really been thinking about... but how much do you actually remember?”

“What? Why?”

“Dorian said that you were gone for thousands of years. I can hardly remember things from a few years ago if it's not written down.”

“I can remember enough.” I did not meet his eyes. “I remember the Inquisition, I remember my friends and most of the important stuff.”

“Ethara...”

“It's not a big deal, Varric.” I sighed. “I was only the Inquisitor for what...? Five years? Prior to that, I was just trained to be the next Keeper of Clan Lavellan. I ended up spending more time in Elvhenan then at either of those.”

“Still, it's not something to dismiss. Especially if you're going to be jumping head first back into politics like the others want.”

“So you know about what's happening with the Inquisition as well?”

“Of course. That and the shitstorm up north.”

“What can you tell me about the leader of the elves in the north?” I asked, only too happy to divert the conversation away from myself.

“Not much. She's a young elf, Dalish and she's promoting you as the goddess of the people. She's apparently capable as a leader as there aren't many complaints from the ones that do come south.”

“That doesn't help much.”

“Well, does it help in knowing that they're not actively searching for something in the forest?” He provided, watching me keenly as he spoke. “They did a few sweeps through a small area and then disappeared into the deeper parts. A few groups of them split off and that's about all we know. If there is something in there that they want, then they know where it is already.”

“That helps. Troubling but helpful.” I admitted.

“You know something?” He quirked an eyebrow as he asked.

“It really was the location of Arlathan.” Was all I said.

I honestly did not know what had happened to the city. I had spent my days with Mythal in her temple outside the city proper before venturing to the Alinuris. I just knew that was where it was.

I guessed Solas knew more about what happened with Arlathan but I did not want to bring that up with him.

“That's what most people assume.” Varric sighed. “There's something else you should be aware of.”

“What's that?”

“Remember those people that kidnapped you?”

“You mean Ellendra and her companions?”

I would always leave it at just that. The less people that knew, the better. Especially given that she had been part of a group of cultists led by my father.

That was a conversation I really did not want to have right now.

“Yeah.” Varric looked away from me as he spoke. “They've been popping up all over Thedas now. Not large numbers but enough that it's clear they're looking for something. My guess is that they're trying to find where you are... or Solas but I'm going with you as they had you prettied up when we got there.”

I frowned and looked down at the glove covering my crystalline hand.

“There are some here in Kirkwall.”

My frown deepened but I did not look up. I knew what Abelas had said earlier, that I was still too weak from what I had done. I was not sure if I would be able to stop the Cultists if they came after me while I was in this particular state.

“Damnit.” I muttered under my breath.

“We've managed to route them out but they come back every few months. Aveline caught one trying to sneak in here while I was out.” He half-laughed, half-snorted as he thought about it. “As if I would keep documents about where you were lying around.”

“That is going to make me getting back to Skyhold a lot more difficult.” I said.

“I'm thinking there might be a way around that.” Varric's voice went thoughtful for a moment.

I glanced over at him to see that he had that expression on his face like he was working things out.

“Merrill might have the answer, that's if Solas didn't completely lock down her eluvian.”

“Merrill has an eluvian?” I sucked in a breath of air, startled by that revelation. I had assumed that either Solas or Morrigan had control of the eluvians. “I thought you wrote that Hawke had destroyed it?”

“That's much better then she repaired it and it did nothing, right?” Varric said with a thin smile. “It's a long shot but if it actually does work, we might be able to get you back through there without having to cross through all of Thedas.”

“So, when do I get to meet this Merrill?” I asked.

“As soon as your chaperone shows up.” Varric said with a laugh. “Cole did say you weren't alone.”

“Oh right... Abelas.” I had not forgotten about him, I had just gotten so distracted with talking with Varric that I had forgotten he was not nearby.

“Not Solas?”

“No.” I answered, not quite looking at him.

“Well, not gonna pry into that one.” He shook his head before laughing again. “You're free to come and go as you please in Kirkwall, my home is your home for as long as you're here. When Abelas shows up, I'll have Aveline take you to meet Merrill.”

“Thanks Varric.” I said with a smile, truthfully meaning it.

We continued to talk for what seemed like hours. He reminded me of what things I had said or done as the Inquisitor and I told him what my life had been like since I disappeared. I did not get into too much detail about the time travel as he clearly said that whole thing gave him a 'headache'.

I began to feel a bit on edge as time wore on.

“I think I should have Aveline look for him.” Varric said, whether it was because he noticed my behaviour or he simply realized that it was far too long.

“Thank you.”

“You get some rest until then.” He said as he got up. One hand motioning to a set of doors leading further into the keep. His personal rooms, I guessed. “No arguing. Go lay down.”

I grumbled but I could not help but deny that I was feeling drained. I knew I could trust Varric and his friends to look for Abelas so I slipped into the other room and fell asleep the moment I laid my head down on the pillow.

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