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michaelmilligan · 3 years

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Destiel fix-it fic (post 15x19)

Okay so this is 1,8k of fix-it for that horrible shit we call an 'ending'. Yes, I am still not over the finale. No, I will not take criticism at this time. (I meant to work on a genderfluid Dean(na) fic which will likely have several parts, but this wouldn't leave my brain so here you go. No beta, just pure rage against the machine that churned out the finale.) (Also my first time adding a cut so if it doesn't work please tell me.)

Dean hadn't taken it well. Not that Sam could blame him. He himself was still struggling with everything that had happened. Chuck snapping everyone away, the fear and the desperation... But they won, and everyone was back. Well, everyone except Cas.

Dean had said “just us” and Sam had said the same and they had driven for a while and it had been good to be on the road, to finally be free. But at the end of the day, it wasn't just them, and that was good too. Great even. There were Jody and the girls. Eileen. Donna. Charlie and Stevie. Garth and his family. All these people they knew and loved, everyone they cared about. Everyone was safe. Everything was good.

Except for Cas.

It had taken a few days for it to really sink in for Sam that he was gone. After all, he hadn't been there when it had happened. Hell, Dean had never even really told him how it went down. But Dean's grief was undeniable, the way he drunk himself into oblivion, much like the last time they had lost Cas, when they had also lost their mom. Both losses had been temporary, but they hadn't known that at the time.

Now their mom was gone for good, up in Heaven and apparently happy. And Cas was gone too, probably in the Empty if he was dead. Sam missed him, of course he did. He was their best friend, the other father in their trio, however weird that sounded. Also Sam also missed Jack, not knowing if they would ever see him again, now that he was almighty and all that. But Sam handled it, he always handled it, and he had Eileen to keep him company, to hold him when he needed to cry.

Dean had noone, hadn't had anyone in years. Maybe he had never had anyone who would do that for him, and Sam was starting to worry about Dean's liver as well as his mental health. Not that any of them could be great in that department, but so far they had always been able to keep it together. Now Sam wasn't so sure.

As he walked into the kitchen, he half expected to find Dean slumped over, drooling onto the kitchen table with a half-full bottle of whiskey in his hand. Instead, the room was empty, no empty bottles in sight. Huh.

Sam set out in search for his brother, trying his room first but finding it just as empty. It took him several minutes before he ducked his head into the library, and finally saw Dean sitting at a table, several books open in front of him.

“Dean? What are you doing?”

Dean's shoulders tensed for a moment, but he didn't turn around.

“Research,” he said gruffly, sounding like he had woken up less than an hour ago.

“On what? You got a case?” Sam came into the room, looking over the books. He saw Enochian, an angel summoning spell, a dictionary... “What's this for?”

Dean pressed his lips into a thin line. “Cas,” he croaked out. “We've got to... there has to be a way.”

“Dean. I thought you said he was dead. You know we can't... There's no way to get him from the Empty.”

Dean gritted his teeth, looking like he was about to snap. “That dude almost got Lucifer out, but we can't get Cas back?” He sprang up, walking towards the nearest shelf just to stare at it.

“Dean. What even happened? How did... you never told me what happened,” Sam tried, hoping against hope that his brother wouldn't just clam up like every other goddamn time he tried to talk about something difficult.

“He... he just. Goddamnit, he said- He- he made a deal with the Empty and then-”

“Wait, what? The Empty was there? Why the hell would he make a-”

“No, I mean. Before. He made the deal to save Jack, back when... It agreed to take him instead of Jack, but only... only if... and he said...” Dean's shoulders were shaking as he leaned his forehead against the shelf. “He... he summoned it. The Empty. To take him away so it would take Billie too. And I... I couldn't do anything. There was... we had no weapons, nothing to fight the Empty, nothing to fight Billie and he...” Sam couldn't see his face, but he could hear the tears in his voice.

“Okay. Okay.” Sam let out a deep breath. It wasn't the first time one of them had sacrificed himself for the others. And like any other time, Dean couldn't let it go. Well, not that Sam had always been able to. “So you want to get him back. You think that's wise?”

Dean whirled to him, his eyes hard and full of tears. “What?”

“I'm just saying... Cas sacrificed himself to save you. And now you're going to endanger yourself to get him back, do you think that's really what he wants? And even if we had a way of getting to the Empty, who says that we're gonna be able to get Cas out, or that the Empty won't just snatch him again as soon as we're back on Earth?”

But Dean's face had completely shuttered closed. This was one of the times were no logical arguments would get through to him.

“I'll find a way,” he said, turning back to the shelf to sort through the books.

Sam sighed, and after watching his brother for a while, he left him to it, deciding to let him grieve in his own way.

It was about three days later when Sam heard a noise from the entrance. Frowning, he walked towards it, wondering if Dean had invited anyone. Eileen wasn't scheduled to come over, but maybe she had wanted to surprise him? He had told her not to come, didn't want her to see Dean like that, but then again when did she ever listen to him?

When he saw who was coming down the stairs from the entrance, Sam felt his eyes widen.

“Jack!”

The boy – God, whatever – smiled and raised his hand.

“Dean! Dean, Jack is here,” Sam called in the direction of the corrdor, then hurried over to him. He hesitated, not sure if you were supposed to hug the newly appointed God. But Jack was his son and he had missed him, so in the end he pulled him into a tight hug. Jack returned it, squeezing him and still smiling when they pulled apart.

Which was when Sam noticed the other figure coming down the stairs and he gasped. “Cas?” He looked at Jack, who just kept smiling, and Sam laughed and pulled Cas into a hug, too. Cas returned it, though a little more carefully than Jack, and his smile wasn't as bright. Maybe a little... shy? Embarrassed?

“Dean? Dean! It's- Dean, get your ass over here!” Sam called again, hardly believing their luck.

Dean jerked awake to a stiff neck and an aching back, hunched over on the library table, drool on a three-hundred year old book. He thought he'd heard Sam, calling for him, and he got up to walk out of the library in spite of his protesting body. “Sam?” he called as walked along the corridor, anxiety forming in his gut. What if something was wrong? What if they were under attack? What if the next big villain – whoever that might be after thee actual God – was here to get them? Or maybe just some regular monster, ready to tear them apart, taking them by surprise?

Dean pulled his gun and tread carefully, peering around each corner before rounding it. He heard voices from the entrance, and by the time he was almost at the door, he heard a laugh. It sounded like Sam... He still peeked around the door frame before getting in and saw Jack, just standing there, looking comfortable.

“Jack?” Dean made his way over to him quickly, not believing his eyes. “What are you- I thought you-”

“Dean!” Jack beamed at him and Dean couldn't not pull him into a hug.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi.” Jack squeezed him tight.

When Dean looked towards Sam, he also saw... no. This wasn't possible, was it? Dean pulled back, eyes wide, just staring for a moment before he turned towards Jack. “You- how-”

“I know I said I'd be hands-off, but...” Jack shrugged, looking apologetic. “I didn't want to be.”

Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, his eyes going back to Cas. His eyes were prickling, and he suddenly noticed how Cas evaded his eyes, peering up at him from beneath his eyelashes almost shyly.

“Thank you,” Dean said to Jack, aware of the tremor in his voice, and then he rushed towards Cas.

“You goddamn- fucking moron,” he hissed as he wrapped him in the tightest hug he might have ever given anyone. “Stupid fucking dumbass.”

“Uh,” Cas made, sounding insecure. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean gripped him the shoulders when he pulled back, then put his hands on Cas' face. “You fucking- what does that even mean, huh? 'It's in the just saying it'. What the fuck. What the actual fuck!”

Cas squinted at him, opened his mouth, closed it again.

“You-” Dean cut himself off, running out of words, so he kissed Cas instead. It was a rough kiss, and long, and Cas seemed to have trouble keeping up, his hands coming up to claw at the flannel on Dean's back.

Dean was vaguely aware of a gasp behind him, but he was still laser-focused on Cas, glaring daggers at him.

“You maybe wanna re-think that?” He shoved him.

“Uh, I- I do?” Cas said, still looking terribly confused, and Dean couldn't help but kiss him again, just as roughly at first but getting softer over time until they were just breathing each other's air.

“You fucking asshole. You could have said something sooner! Before you got your ass dragged to the-” Dean stopped, feeling his face going through several emotions at once.

Cas squinted at him. “So could you.”

Dean stared at him, hearing Jack say “What's wrong, Sam?”, and yet he still couldn't have cared less.

“Goddamnit, you're right, we're both dumbasses.” When Cas opened his mouth, he added: “No, Cas, 'trusting' really doesn't cut it here.”

Cas huffed out a laugh – and wasn't that a sight for sore eyes. Dean kissed him again, hearing Jack in the background: “Wait, is this something new? I always thought they were just not very public about it.”

Dean grinned against Cas' lips, and Cas smiled back as Dean pulled him into another hug.

Meanwhile, Jack was still talking: “You know what, I think they need a minute. And I want to eat Crunch Cookie Crunch. Do you still have any?”

#Destiel #Supernatural fanfiction #Destiel fanfic #How do you even tag #Deancas #deancas fanfiction #Finale fix-it #After this Jack tells them that he doesn't want to be God #'I'm three Dean. Three! I'm not even legally allowed to drive yet'#And Dean goes 'You're also not allowed to drive because you legally don't exist... but yeah okay I get it'#They find a way for Jack to give up his God mojo to power Heaven directly #And Jack comes back home #They live happily ever after #Noone dies or fucks off into the sunset #The End #Except of course it's not an end it's just the beginning of the rest of their lives #Quiet domestic lives #Occasional hunts or helping younger/less experienced hunters #But all in all just two guys being gay married raising a son together with their brother and his wife #Eileen is awesome and teaches Jack all manner of dangerous shit #Claire and Eileen hang out and she becomes a cool aunt #Jack and Claire are siblings (TM)#Anyway this is already too many tags you get the gist

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angry-goat · 3 years

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1-80 for whatever OC you want, go wild buddy i can't wait to read! 👀❤️

You saved me from boredom! Here’s my ver of Ornstein:

What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about? - Orn(y), The Lion/Lion Knight (1st one is what Ciaran & Artorias call him for short, 2nd one is made up by Artorias & last 2 are the most common strangers call him.)

What is the color of your OC’s eyes/hair/skin? - Yellow/gold, red (“Ariel red”), white.

How tall is your OC? - 9'

What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC? - I’d say the length of his hair. In a ponytail it's halfway down his back. Loose it is down to his ankles.

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night? - He's normally wearing his signature armor. For special nights (any day/night he’s not working) he wears a black shirt with rolled up sleeves and tight black pants.

What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearances? - Grumpy? Gruff?? Tired???

Does your OC have any markings, such as a birthmark or a scar? - Has a small flat mole under his right eye and small scar on the left of his forehead above his eyebrow (hard to see in my drawings but it’s there.)

How does your OC talk/what does your OC’s voice sound like? - I like to think of Bambi’s father from the 2nd movie but a tad less low (example at the end!)

What does your OC’s bedroom look like? His/her living area? - Ornstein (and Artorias’) living quarters have a bedroom which is a part of the “living room”. In separate rooms to the right there is a big bathroom, on the left a small kitchen. The main room is mainly dark golds and crimson while the bathroom and kitchen are white and gold.

What does your OC keep in a special drawer? - Lube...? Anything really special to him is either worn by him or hung up somewhere.

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother? - He left her around his teenage years to continue his training as a knight of Gwyn but his relationship with her was good. Every year on her birthday he silently prays that she is alive and well.

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her father? - His father died when he was around 2-3 so he doesn't remember him. He’s heard from his mother that he was a big and scary looking but a kind and gentle man. Had a pretty good sense of humor too.

How many siblings does your OC have and what is his/her relationship with them? - Had a sister 1 year younger than him. Around age 4 she went collecting herbs for their mother but got hungry along the way and mistook a poisonous plant for a safe one. Died later that night. Younger brother (around age 9) wished to hunt a manticore with Orn but Ornstein only got annoyed by the suggestion and kept training with his dummy. A hunter from the village returned from a hunting trip later to inform Orn’s mother that his brother was found dead near a manticore liar. He barley remembers his sister. Blames himself for his brother’s death.

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life? - Lord Gwyn for a short time.

What was your OC’s childhood like? - Lived in a small village. Spent most of his younger years learning different herbs and medicine from his momma. When he got old enough (13) he spent the day learning to fight and hunt for food.

What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how did that impact him/her? - Strongest childhood memories are his mother singing a lullaby to help him sleep, learning of his brother’s death, and silver knights visiting his village to look for possible future knights to train.

What is your OC’s imagination like? - Does Not have a huge imagination. His mind is filled with work, possible outcomes of problems and wishing to just relax with his husband. If not any of those than it's memories of wars with dragons and the occasional memory of NK and him hanging together. They had a friend/brotherly relationship.

How many times did your OC move as a child? Which area was his/her favorite? - Moved around a few times as a child when monsters proved too great a threat. Did not have a favorite location. They were all very similar.

What does your OC think of children either in general or about having them? - Does not really have an opinion on them at first. He gets easily annoyed so he is never around them (+ his work doesn't involve them.) In the kids AU he wished to create children with Artorias and they ended up making 2.

What kind of mother/father would your OC be? - Sadly not a good one. He thought he was ready but ultimately wasn't. He ends up treating his kids more like his soldiers as he is so used to being the captain and giving orders. He was also never home to connect with them.

Who are your OC’s closest relatives? - Mother.

Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)? - He considers Gough to be his closest friend. They both just enjoy being in each other's company. No talking necessary.

Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with? - The other 3 knights of Gwyn. Gough, Ciaran, and last but not least his partner Artorias.

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates? - He doesn't really hate anyone specific but for a while he was not too fond of NK for betraying his father and siding with the dragons. As you'd expect. Sometimes he dislikes Lord Gwyn for sending Artorias on such dangerous missions by himself.

If your OC has a soulmate, who is it? - Artorias.

Why does your OC and his/her soulmate work so well together? - They balance each other out I guess. If “opposites attract” is true then they are living proof. Ornstein taught Artorias what real love was and how to trust. Artorias was the first person he ever had feelings for and he also learned how to just have fun and relax while being around him.

What are some things your OC admires about his/her soulmate? - The first thing that caught his attention besides Artorias’ looks were his unique fighting skills.

How did your OC and his/her soulmate meet? - Artorias appeared one day as a stranger to Anor Londo and sought out Lord Gwyn. He introduced himself and told of his strengths. Gwyn agreed to introduce him to The Captain, Ornstein, to see if he was capable of being a good, trustworthy knight.

What is your OC’s level of education? - Learned how to differentiate herbs and medicine at a young age. As a teen and onward he got most of his knowledge from personal experience and reading.

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they? - None.

What is your OC’s opinion of school? What kind of student was s/he? - He believes knowledge is good but doesn't really trust schools. If you were his child you would be homeschooled and be reading large texts all day :)

What subjects did your OC excel at? - Fighting and commanding others!

What subjects interested your OC? - He enjoys reading and sometimes writing short stories.

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession? - Being a knight of Gwyn - Knight commander.

How is your OC working towards his/her dream job and/or achieving his/her current profession? - Gwyn saw lots of potential in young Ornstein and so he got training almost immediately.

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession? - Is honored of his position but sometimes wishes he could just quit and rest.

What is your OC’s biggest dream? - Already came true. He wished to impress Gwyn enough to be the knight captain (check!) and later wished to soulbond with Artorias (double check!)

How does your OC react to and handle stress? - Likes to be alone with his thoughts. Gets easily annoyed and grumpy (more so than usual). Is prone to yell more often at times but usually reminds himself a good commander does not let their emotions get the better of them.

How does your OC handle anger? - You’ll hear a lot of lighting and shouting in the training grounds aka he is breaking every single training dummy. If not all this then you’re being yelled at by him cause you did something wrong or are trying his patience.

How does your OC handle grief? - Same as above except he'll eventually tire himself out, curl up and cry on the ground. Would also probably destroy things of no importance to him in his quarters. The only time he’d feel this much grief was if his mate or child was to die. Normally if he is grieving he is very quiet. If he loses a comrade in battle he’ll spend a couple minutes praying for them at night and give them a moment of silence.

What is your OC’s greatest fear? - Losing Artorias and disappointing the city of Anor Londo.

What makes your OC happy? - Spending time with Artorias.

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have? - Dry.

What are some things that greatly upset your OC? - Disrespect. Peasants, knights, etc should stay in their place.

What are some things that annoy your OC? - Artorias. Sif.

If your OC has them, what are some regrets s/he has? - Not choosing to go after his brother.

How easily does your OC forgive? - Not easily. Is very forgiving when it comes to Artorias tho.

What are some of your OC’s vices? - None. In more modern times it would be smoking.

If your OC experienced trauma, what was it? - War and betrayal.

What secrets does your OC have? - None.

What are some of your OC’s morals? - Respect your elders.

What are some of your OC’s motivations? - Keeping Anor Londo safe and not disappointing his Lord. Seeing Artorias safe and sound.

What is the health of your OC? - He’s in good health. If he were a regular human some of his hair would have probably fallen out from stress tho.

Does your OC think with his/her head or heart? - Both. Tries as hard as he can not to think with his emotions.

What are your OC’s thoughts on death? - Doesn't really have a thought on it. He’s use to death.

What are some of your OC’s strengths? - Patience and tolerance for bullshit (sometimes.)

What are some of your OC’s weaknesses? - Putting his job before himself or family.

How does your OC take criticism? - Well, unless he feels that person is unworthy and/or doesn't know what they’re talking about.

What does your OC think of him/herself? - Thinks he must be at least a little good looking judging by the way Artorias looks at him. Is guessing by others reactions that he must come off a bit scary. Good.

If your OC could change one thing about him/herself, what would it be? - He doesn't know. In kids AU he wishes he were a better father.

What is the general impression your OC gives other people? - Grumpy old man.

How emotionally/mentally vulnerable is your OC with other people? - Ornstein is like a brick wall.

How does your OC display love? - Touch. Hugs, kisses, cuddles, sex positions that will squish Artorias.

What are some habits your OC has picked up? - Tends to forget to eat.

What is your OC’s favorite drink? - Herbal tea. Reminds him of his mother plus it helps him relax.

What is your OC’s favorite food? - Medium rare steak.

What is your OC’s favorite sweet? - Dark chocolate cake.

What is your OC’s favorite season? - Summer.

What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather? - Sunny. He becomes Scrooge, in the cold.

What is your OC’s favorite book? - History and fiction books.

What is your OC’s favorite movie and/or TV show? - None. No movies where he is! In modern times he’d just sleep through movies anyway.

What is your OC’s favorite kind of music (and song if there is one)? - Folk music? Arabic sounding music?? He mostly enjoys silence. More modern times he’d like some classical.

What is your OC’s favorite form of entertainment? - Sparring.

What is your OC’s favorite color? - Doesn't really have one but I guess it could be the blue that's associated with Artorias.

What is your OC’s favorite scent? - Artorias & the beginning of Summer.

What is your OC’s favorite animal? - He’ll just say “lions”. Not a huge fan of animals.

What is your OC’s favorite sound? - The sounds of Artorias cumming Nature.

What is your OC’s favorite time of day? - Night. As a child, nighttime always meant story time around the village. As a teen that meant he had some time to sleep. As an adult he can sometimes rest with his partner.

What is your OC’s favorite kind of ice cream? - None. It would probably be dark chocolate or vanilla.

What is your OC’s favorite dinosaur? - None. They’d remind him of dragons!

Video of Bambi’s dad so you can hear his voice! - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLF9u-Y_dlM

#Q&A #artoriasss

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railagraceart · 7 years

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A Noble Tale.

So before you read any farther, know that writing isn’t usually my thing. This is just something I wrote sper of the moment. I haven’t really looked over it either so just ignore the many errors I’m sure are there. However, feel free to share what you think about it. -------------------- DragonAge OC - Elbona Lavellan. A few things to know about her. - Elf, Dalish, rogue, hunter, spy, primary archer. - Lightly tanned skin, very slight showing of freckles on face, shoulder length white hair, bright teal eyes, simple light purple Mythal vallaslin (blood writing) under eyes. - Introverted, friendly, warm hearted, protective, firm, inquisitive/curious, learner, wisdom seeker, loyal, driven, hard worker, wanderer.

I was a solitary child growing up. My parents had a tendency to take in orphaned elves during our travels. Some of them were older than I was, and others younger. It’s not that I minded, our clan became my family more than just my parents. But because I hadn’t grown up with many of the elves my parents took in, I tended to feel disconnected with them. So I would often wander, hoping to find a place to be alone. Few of the other elves my age had a way of thinking similar to mine, and that led me to have very few friendships.

I often got along with the older elves best; any that were willing to impart knowledge with me, to teach me. Because of my interest in knowledge, I would read anything I could, doing my best to understand everything it had to give. Most of the information shared among the Dalish however, was given orally by the hahrens; so I became a patient listener, even more than I was naturally, and persistent in my questions until I gained an understanding.

At a young age I was given a bow and arrow, and they soon became my most trusted companions. I took to hunting quickly, and because of my natural stealth I became a master of treading unnoticed. At the age of 18 I received my vallaslin; I chose a simple design under my eyes for the goddess of protection, Mythal. The pain was harsh, but the silence was welcoming, and no matter the pain I forced myself to keep that silence. Despite how the ritual hurt I found comfort in letting my mind wonder what it would be like, now that I would be given the responsibility of an adult. I became an experienced hunter in my young age and was soon considered a respected protector and provider.

Despite my lack of social interactions, I think I may have been considered fondly by my clan; though I never truly connected with them. I loved them, but I felt I had little place among them. So I did what I knew was good for them; I became greatly skilled in the arts of knives, archery, and stealth, that way I could at least provide for them. Through our time traveling, we often encountered other races. And often my curiosity would lead to a great number of questions toward them. Some were happy to share, merely increasing my interest in the world around me. And all the vast differences on Thedas. Other travelers were less inclined to questions, and thankfully I could usually tell if it would lead to hostilities.

My clan became restless when the recent mage rebellion started disrupting our way of life. Because of this, our clan Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan gave me the task of spying on the meeting at the Temple of Sacred Ashes between the Divine and the feuding factions. Given my particular skill set and mostly unbiased opinion of other races(even humans), I was seen as the perfect choice to quietly observe and bring back news of the outcome. But no one could have expected the outcome given.

I saw many people at the conclave, high ranks from both sides were housed in the temple. I don’t know how long I was there before the explosion, and I don’t remember anything else that happened that day. I remember finding myself in a place I believe to have been the fade, giant spiders chasing me, and a glowing woman figure taking my hand. When I awoke again, I was in shackles and surrounded by soldiers pointing swords at me. And a painful, flaring green mark was on my left hand. A woman warrior with short black hair greeted me harshly, bombarding me with questions and believing I had caused the explosion that I didn’t even remember. I found out through the array of questions from the warrior, Cassandra, and another woman with red hair named Leliana, that I had been found stepping out of a rift with this green mark upon my hand. I also found out that I was the only one to survive the blast…. All those people... dead

I managed to convince them that I truly didn’t remember what happened, and Cassandra took me outside, then showed me what they were calling the breach. An extensive hole in the sky above a massive rift, where evidently demons had been pouring out for the past few days. I saw the hole expand slightly with a thundering rumble; and my mark flickered with piercing pain in response. I stumbled into the snow as the pain gripped me. Cassandra bent to my level, her eyes looked into mine; she told me that the mark expanded every time the breach did, and that it was going to kill me. But there was a possibility, however faint, that it could help close the breach. That I could help save these people.

She seemed a little surprised when I told her that I would willingly help. As though she thought the shackles on my wrists, the harsh words to my face, or the swords to my throat would change my moral standing. If there was a chance I could save innocent people, I would take it. Her demeaner softened slightly towards me as she helped me to my feet, and guided me through the camp. Even without being told, I could tell that every person we passed thought I was guilty. It’s not that I could blame them for thinking it. Their holy leader and many others ripped away from them, and I survived? Looking in their faces I could see their terror, their utter lack of hope. But were they not more afraid of losing what they had left? A hole in the sky dropping demons who demolish everything in their path, and in their fear they looked for anyone they could blame, so they would see me executed that moment if they could.

When we made it through the main gate, Cassandra released me from my shackles. A decision she would be glad she made. We pushed through the roads toward where the temple once stood and she told me what had happened as we went. The path dropped onto a thickly frozen lake and a couple demons charged towards us. Cassandra told me to stay behind her as she went to face them on her own. Luckily I found a simple bow and arrows among the dead. I aided Cassandra until the demons had fallen, then she pointed her sword at me as if I would strike her down with the very weapons I just used to save her life. But by her demand, I offered to leave them behind. She paused, then pulling her sword away told me to keep them. “I should remember that you agreed to come willingly” she informed me, and that she didn’t want to leave me defenseless. So we marched on.

A little farther on a small rift hovered above a fight between four demons, a dwarf, and an elf. Cassandra runs to their aid and I shoot the demons from a short distance away. Once the demons had fallen, the elf grabbed my wrist and forced it toward the rift. A strange link formed between the rift and my mark, and when he pulled my hand back, the rift sealed. I glanced at my hand a moment before looking back at the male elf, asking him what he had done. He just gave me a slight smile as he replied “I did nothing. The credit is yours”. He then informed me he had theorized that because the magic that opened the breach also placed the mark on my hand, it might be able to close the rifts left in the breach’s wake. Being that he had been correct, they believed it might even be able to close the breach itself. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation”. And suddenly, I felt like a heavy weight had just been dropped on my shoulders.

The dwarf approached me, with what I found to be best described as his own kind of swagger. He had half of his red hair pulled back behind his head, a friendly face, and moderate amount of chest hair he seemed fond of putting on display. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong”. He finished his sentence with a wink towards the warrior who stood behind me. She only scowled at him and turned in disgust. He seemed somewhat pleased at her response. I smiled at his introduction and asked him if he was part of the Chantry, which earned a chuckle out of the elf and a light hearted comment as to whether I was serious. The dwarf hardly glances at him before giving me his attention once again, and informing me that he was technically a prisoner, like myself. Cassandra stepped forward in defense, saying she had brought him to speak with the Divine; though clearly that was no longer necessary. He then commented on how it was lucky for them that he was around to help with the current circumstances.

After that I complimented him on his intriguing cross bow, and he gave me a wide, prideful grin. “Ah, isn’t she?” he glanced around at the beloved weapon rested on his back as he told me her name was Bianca. I made an amused question of him naming his crossbow Bianca, and he just nodded “Of course. And she’ll be great company in the valley”. Cassandra objected to him being involved any farther, but Varric reminded her of their current state in this fight. And the truth of the matter was, no matter what she thought, he was right. She needed him. Cassandra merely turns once more in disgust. I didn’t mind the thought of him tagging along, I believed him to be a rather amusing addition.

Once the short argument between the two made its abrupt end, I turned to greet the elf at my side with a smile, and he greets me in kind. His delicate ears pointed back more than they did up, much like my own. His head was cleanly shaven against his long jaw line and tall thin frame. His eyes and brows narrow, but in a way that was almost welcoming. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live”. Varric piped up beside me “He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept’”. I asked him about the mark and Cassandra let me know that Solas was an apostate who was well versed in such matters. “Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra” he then told us that through his travels he had learned much about the Fade, more than that of any Circle mage. And that he came to offer his help against the Breach, being that if it was not closed, everyone would be doomed regardless of origin. When I thanked him for his help with the mark he told me I could thank him if we were able to close the Breach without killing me in the prosses. I commended him on his actions, and he simply informed me that it was the sensible thing to do, though sense seemed to be in short supply.

He then turned to Cassandra, informing her that he had never seen magic like that which had branded my hand. And that he found it difficult to believe that even a mage could have such a power as that lodged in my palm. She acknowledges his statement and implores us to move onward. Solas and Cassandra took up the front and Varric looks up at me “Well, Bianca’s excited”, then we followed after the other two. Climbing over rubble left behind from the blast Solas warns of demons ahead of us, and Varric called up to Cassandra “Glad you brought me now, Seeker?”. She made little effort to reply her annoyance before rushing at one of the four demons. I found it strange just how close Varric liked to be to the fray; while Solas tried to stay at more of a distance, standing only a few feet in front of me. Cassandra, as expected, kept herself right in the middle of it.

The demons fell and I subconsciously checked the wellbeing of my new comrades, who seemed relatively unscathed. I found myself leading the odd group when Solas spoke up from behind me; “You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?”. I could tell when we met that he was not Dalish, but somehow it still felt strange having an elven companion that was not of my clan. I inquired of his knowledge regarding the Dalish, and he told me he had wandered many roads and crossed paths with my people more than once. My people? The way he spoke of them was as though he did not connect the Dalish with our kind, like we where not all elves. I told him we were both of the same people, and his response was almost hesitant, as if he did not quite expect such an answer. “The Dalish I met felt… differently on the subject”. Varric quipped asking why elves can’t just play nice for once. In all honesty, I wondered the same thing. I respected my history, but I didn’t hang on it’s every word like some elves did, and I certainly didn’t hate other elves just because they saw things differently. Dalish, City elves, apostate elves, we are all elves, even though we have been raised differently. But Solas seemed to see the Dalish with a particularly harsh distaste. And I wondered why.

About that time my mark flared, I muffled a short cry as I gripped my hand and took a sharp breath. The three eyed me with some concern and Solas tells them that we must hurry, before the mark consumed me. So I grit my teeth and moved on. As we trudged up the snow covered hill, I heard Varric ask me if I was innocent. I still didn’t remember what had happened, and I told him as much. “That’ll get you every time” he told me, then added how I should have spun a story. Cassandra spoke her disapproval saying how that’s what he would have done; Varric shrugged back at her and told her how “It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution”. Despite how they disagreed, I found myself entertained by their banter.

Cassandra voiced a concern for Leliana as we fought off more demons, Varric assured her that with Leliana’s resourcefulness, she would be fine. A little farther on and we reached the gate to the forward camp, which of course was blocked by a rift and more demons. We helped the soldiers overcome the demons and I used the mark to close the rift. Cassandra called up for them to open the gate and after some passing comments on how I did well and how that stupid mark was good for something, we walked in. Supplies and soldiers were scattered around the long slender camp. I saw Leliana arguing with a man from the chantry and found, much to my annoyance, that I was once again the topic of discussion. Leliana looked relieved at our arrival, this other person, Chancellor Roderick I was told, eyed me with disgust. It took less than two seconds to know that this man was going to be trouble for me for as long as he could manage it. Leliana attempted an introduction, but then this Roderick fellow cut her off with an “I know who she is”, and as this great authority I order this criminal to be bound and sent off to be executed. Like we didn’t have bigger problems. Cassandra scowled at the man, informing him through an array of insults that she did not take orders from him. He sent his own insults back in kind on how she supposedly served the Chantry. Leliana reminded him that they served only the Divine, and after he brought up how Divine Justinia was dead and how a new Divine would be elected, I knew the conversation was going nowhere. And we didn’t have time for that.

I tried to bring the conversation back to the current threat by reminding them that closing the Breach was a more pressing issue. Which just turned him back on me and how I was obviously the one who caused the problem to begin with. He told Cassandra to call a retreat, that the position they held was hopeless. I stood as they discussed how there was still a possibility to close the Breach, and the best path to reach it. But again, they couldn’t agree. I flinched as I felt the pain of the mark jolt through my arm. I could almost feel the slight concern from the elf and dwarf behind me. Though I was yet to decide if that was for me personally, or because if I died, we were all dead. Then suddenly Cassandra turns to me, “How do you think we should proceed?”. And all I could think at that moment was, are you serious? So I asked, if they were really asking me my opinion on the matter. I heard Solas comment on how I had the mark, and Cassandra nodded. She told me how I was the one that they had to keep alive, and since they couldn’t decide, they thought it best that I did. So I betted for Cassandra’s plan of a charged assault, which I gathered with leave us with less casualties. I knew it wasn’t likely I would live through whatever was happening, and if I was going to die, I would do anything I could to keep others from doing the same.

Cassandra set the plan in motion and we once again headed onward for the temple. Soldiers ran ahead of us as we headed up a stone stair case. My heart ached as we reached the camp above; exhausted fighters were trying to rest, tend to the wounded, sharpen weapons, or cover the dead. To think that they could fight so bravely, yet still be lost. The weight on my shoulders just grew heavier. Solas warns of another rift and moments later a soldier’s body is flung down our next flight of stairs. I heard Varric ask something about the number of rifts as we assisted those in the assault; Solas comments on how we must seal it if we are to pass, and Cassandra just rushes me to do so. Once the demons fell, I pulled back and closed the rift. Solas commended my efforts, saying I had become quite proficient sealing the rifts. Varric simply states what we were all thinking, on how he hoped it would work on the big one.

I saw a soldier approach us from the side, one that I assumed to be a commander. An assumption Cassandra soon confirmed. He had short blond hair, a thick fur collar, and a heavy set of Templar armor. He congratulated Cassandra on closing the rift, which she graciosity led him to give me the credit, that it was my mark that completed the task. I gave him my full attention as he turned to me, “Is it? I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here”. I felt a hollow in my stomach at the last of his statement. And all I could tell him was that I couldn’t promise anything, and that I would do my best. He nodded his approval of the statement with a simple “That’s all we can ask”. Then he informed us that our way to the temple was clear, and we quickly continued on.

We dropped from the broken road down toward the ruins of the temple and I heard Solas in slight awe from behind me, “The Temple of Sacred Ashes” and Varric soon after “What’s left of it”. The ground was heavily scorched, fire still clinging to wooden objects and statue like corpses. We walked through what was left of the great stone building until we reach an open space. My heart drops as I see the true size of the rift. I heard Varric comment on how high up it was and I wondered if I would even be in range for the mark to work. Leliana broke the momentary silence as she came up from behind us, glad that we made it. Cassandra told her to direct her archers around the walls of the temple, she nodded her acknowledgement and started putting the archers in position. Then Cassandra turned to me “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”. All I could think was no, but it’s not like that really mattered. So I told her I would try, even though I wasn’t sure I would be able to reach it, much less close it. Solas told me that this rift was the first, and if we could seal it, we might seal the Breach as well. I could only hope that I managed to seal it.

With archers filing around the edge, we made our way towards the stairs. Suddenly a loud voice sounded from the fade “Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice”. Cassandra asked what we had heard, and Solas guessed that it had been who created the Breach. As we continued, I saw some sort of unnatural spikes of red substance I had never seen growing from the rock. Then I heard Varric speak to Cassandra, and I got an explanation. “You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker”. Even though it was a substance to help magic users, I had come into contact with lyrium previously. But this stuff? This stuff was wrong. The lyrium I had seen was always blue, and I believe it only had an effect on you if you ingested it. This red lyrium though, it practically radiated some sort of unstable magic. That alone was enough to keep me from wanting to touch it; but between the tone in Varric’s voice, and his uneasy body language, I didn’t even want to get close. Varric asked why it was there, and Solas informed him that magic could have drawn on the lyrium under the temple and corrupted it. Varric just shook his head “It’s evil. Whatever you do don’t touch it”.

Another echo from the Fade sounded out as we hurry down the steps. The person from before spoke again, saying to keep the sacrifice still. Then a woman calls out for help, and Cassandra recognizes it to be Divine Justinia’s voice. I stepped down onto the floor of the open space, the others close behind. My mark flares again and farther echoes of the scene played out in visual form. I heard my own voice as my figure stepped into the vison, Justinia called out to me, told me to leave and warn the others. But the strange, shadowy figure before her acknowledged me by complaining of an intruder, and telling someone I should be slain. With a flash of light the images vanish, and Cassandra once again sees fit to bombard me with question I could not answer. I told her I didn’t know, and Solas told us that the Fade was bleeding in, what we had seen were echoes of what had happened here.

“This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily”, Solas let us know that he believed with the mark the rift could be opened again, and closed properly. But of course, that meant we would probably get the attention of demons on the other side. So we prepared for a fight, and I opened the rift. Though I had never seen one in person, I recognized the huge creature that came out as a Pride demon. It was easily the size of a house turned on its side. The archers fired, the people on the ground charged, but the demon didn’t seem anything more than agitated at the attack. They continued wearing it down, and I pulled away from the group to disrupt the rift. After doing so it seemed to daze it temporarily, and a few smaller demons appeared. I did what I could to help take them down, and keep my allies alive; but it was a lot to take on. I could feel myself waning, so much was going on, and I had never been prepared for something like this. Eventually the smaller demons were taken down, and the Pride demon fell. And I gave the rift all I had, praying that it would be enough to finish this. I felt my body fall back as I pulled, sealing the rift. The remnants of it shooting up towards the Breach, and releasing large burst of energy when it reached it. I felt my body collapse as my mark flared, my vision darkened and I soon found myself unconscious. I didn’t remember anything after that.

I woke up in a cabin, raising up to find an young elven girl with a package of some sort. When she saw that I was awake, she suddenly looked afraid, dropping the box she had been carrying. She franticly apologized saying she hadn’t known I was awake. I was utterly confused, but I tried to calm her, telling her it was okay; but then she just dropped to her knees, and begged me for my forgiveness and blessing, that she was just a humble servant. I had begun to wonder what I had done to cause such a reaction from the poor girl, until she spoke again, and it started to make sense. “You’re back in Haven, my lady. They say you saved us”; she told me how the Breach had stopped growing, as did my mark. And how it was all people could talk about for the past three days, while I was unconscious. I had hoped the danger was over, but she told me the Breach was still in the sky, so I supposed it wasn’t. I felt bad for her, the way she nearly tripped over her words, and commented on how she was just telling me what other people said, as though I would be offended by her speaking to me. She told me that Lady Cassandra would want to know I was awake, “at once!” she said. I asked her where Cassandra was and she informed me that she was in the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor, ending her sentence with a reiteration of “at once!”. She had hardly finished speaking before she scurried out the door.

I sat on the edge of the bed a moment to observe the room, then rose to examine some papers on the nearby desk. “Vain hope: Someone better at this than me takes over before the survivor expires. Notes in case”, this was followed by series of notes that I assumed pertained to my well being from the past few days. Evidently the person who had been charged to care for me, was either replaced or accompanied by a mage. That didn’t surprise me given the magical nature of the mark, which was probably the cause of my illness in the first place. Observations on my condition and some treatments that had been used were listed. Apparently I had muttered things in my unconscious state, something about to many eyes, and something called the grey. I didn’t remember making any sort of movements or sounds while I slept, that somewhat disturbed me. I was happy to see that the healer chosen was kind enough to see me as a patient more than a prisoner and seemed to care what happened to my life. Especially under the context that two locals had tried to kill me already. I looked in the box the young elf left behind to find a set of clothes, which I changed into shortly after.

Satisfied with my knowledge of the space I grasped the nob of the door, my since of surroundings prickled at what lay beyond. I opened the door and instantly became thoroughly unnerved at the sight before me. Two soldiers guarded my building, and just past them a path was carved out between a thick gathering of people who watched my every move. As I made my way through the crowd I could hear them whispering, though it wasn’t quite what I had expected. Listening I found out that they no longer thought I was guilty of the explosion, but that Andraste had sent me. I couldn’t understand these people. One moment they would kill me for a crime I didn’t commit, and the next they whispered reverence just short of worship toward me, giving me the title Herald of Andraste. I felt a little better once I got away from the large group; seeing only a few people here and there as I made my up to the large, stone structure at the back of the camp. I stepped through its over sized doors into the main room. Candles lit the sides of the thick hall until I reached its end, stopping just before the door.

I could hear Cassandra arguing with Chancellor Roderick over what should be done with me. The Chancellor still wanted me executed, but I was pleased that Cassandra believed I was innocent. He brought up how I had failed to seal the Breach, trying to convince her of my guilt. Cassandra, however, would not be swayed. And she did not seem like the type to change her mind easily once it was made up. The conversation then turned as to who served who and I decided I had no farther reason to eavesdrop, so I made my entrance. I opened the door and it was like my mere presence offended the man. He ordered the guards inside to chain me and prepare me for transport. Cassandra just told them to disregard the order, and leave the room. They gave her a respective salute and closed the door behind them. The Chancellor scowled at her and told her she was walking a fine line. Her response to him was that the Breach was still a problem and that she wouldn’t ignore it. I tried showing my support for her statement, telling him I had done what I could to close the Breach and nearly died in the process. He looked down on me and simply commented on how convenient it was for me that I had lived through it. My frustration level with that man, was becoming rather high. And by the tone in Cassandra’s voice, I wasn’t the only one. “Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face”.

With that the whole conversation suddenly turned on its head. Leliana, who had been quietly listening by Cassandra’s side, spoke up. She mentioned how the Divine didn’t expect such an attack from whoever set the explosion. That the person responsible could have died in the fire, or that they could have allies who still lived. I watched his face twist at her implication, and seemed awestruck that they considered him a suspect. Particularly since they had ruled me out as one. Leliana let him know he was not the only one to be considered, but he turned it back on me. Again trying to persuade them otherwise, asking if they really thought that the fact I lived and I had a magic mark on my hand was just a coincidence. Cassandra told him she thought it was providence, that The Maker had sent me when they needed it most. Even I felt the need to ask if she really felt that way. That I was some heaven sent savior, even if I was a Dalish elf. She just told me that she was not one to question The Maker’s will, and that humans were not the only race who had a concern for the fate of the world. Leliana reminded me that my mark was their only hope of closing the Breach. The Chancellor objects that it isn’t for them to decide, and I saw the look of complete frustration on Cassandra’s face. I watched as she turned grabbed a dense book with an embellished cover, and slammed it on the table in front of him. She asked him if he knew what it was, but clearly didn’t intend to get an answer from him. She informed him that it was a writ from the Divine that gave them authority to act, and as of that moment she declared the Inquisition reborn. I hid a smile as she continued, jabbing him in the chest as she forced him back towards the door. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval”. I was rather happy to see the displeased look on his face as he silently left the room.

Leliana let me know that rebuilding the Inquisition was the directive of the Divine. To find those who would stand against the chaos. But that we weren’t ready, we had no leader, no numbers, and no Chantry support. Cassandra stepped up, saying we had no choice, it had to be done. And that they needed me by their side. I could tell she didn’t want me to feel forced into the responsibility, which I appreciated. But she was right, without me they didn’t have the mark, and without the mark, they were doomed to fail. I asked them what the Inquisition of old was, and they explained that it had preceded the Chantry. That it was made to bring together people who would restore order in a world gone mad. And after that it became the Templar order, but the Templars had lost they’re way. We needed people who would do what had to be done all under one banner once again. Being a little confused I asked if they were still part of the Chantry. Cassandra snorted at that thought, Leliana explained that the Chantry would take time to choose a new Divine and wait for her direction. But we could not wait, we were on our own, and would probably stay that way. I told them that if they were truly trying to restore order, that I would willingly help them. Cassandra shook my hand with an approving smile, and everyone stepped away to start putting the Inquisition in motion.

I wandered through the high bordered camp, Leliana was sending off her messenger crows, and Cassandra walked past, inspecting the work around her. I also saw the Commander I had met on the field nailing posters up for the Inquisition. I paused at the Chantry building as Leliana and the Commander joined me, Cassandra not far behind. And we watched as the largest of the Inquisition’s banners unfurled its full length from its high placement. ------------------------ I have a little more written, but this seemed like a good cut off point, and I’m not sure if I will complete it. I hope to add a picture of Elbona at some point though.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor #Elbona Lavellan #oc #fanfiction #my story #my fanfiction #a noble tale

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