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☀ markburdened | herald

       the breach was quite the sight to see, evee could at least agree with her to an extent. though it was difficult to see beauty in something that had brought so much pain and a lot of SIGNIFICANT CHANGES to her life. all she could think of when she looked at it was the brief fear and confusion she felt as she was faced down on the stone beneath the breach. 

       but like many difficult moments in her life, evee tried not to dwell on it too much even though it was admittedly hard not to when it just STARED back at her when she even so much as glanced up at the sky. even worse, it even looked up at her when she glanced at her left palm, baring possibly the strangest scar in the world.

       ‘ at the moment, no, ‘ she shook her head. ‘ though it does have it’s moments. ‘ evee uncurled her fingers to reveal the mark for the dwarf, not minding the curiosity of others too much. ‘ it WAS technically killing me when i first awoke with it. ‘

The Breach rumbled overhead, and she swore she heard the Mark respond in term. Like lightning and thunder. Thora just hoped it didn’t signify some greater oncoming storm, that the mages or Templars or-- anyone, could stop it before it got bigger.

“Oh.” She frowned, pity shining in dark brown eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.” The girl-- this Herald-- couldn’t be a day over sixteen. Andraste was a woman grown when she took up a sword in the Maker’s name, it didn’t seem fair to ask the same of a girl. Even if Thora couldn’t deny she wanted to see some glimpse of divine anywhere in the world. “They fixed it, then? I’m not... well, let’s just say magic isn’t my specialty.” That much was probably obvious. “But it looks okay now.”

Not a lot different from how most hands looked, honestly. Even active, it didn’t look so different from a typical mage.

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Lace Harding - “brittle”

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☀ shiftysmugglerlook | olek

His hand is on the knife in his jacket before he realizes who’s talking. Dusters outside his crew always scare him a bit. Thora isn’t the sort he usually has to worry about, at least, but her first words make him frown. He doesn’t work collections - no stomach for it. Is she sure she’s got the right dwarf?

Understanding hits him and he nods. “Need someone t’ translate.“ Easy enough. He has a bit of time to spare, and maybe she’ll give him a cut for his help. But he’s an optimist. “Alright, lead the way.”

Her gaze falls to where his hand pushes into the pocket of his coat. She sees it make a fist around something through the fabric, and her stomach drops as she braces for a knife in the gut. It doesn’t come. His gaze wavers, like he’s still waking up, just coming into the world.

“Just like that?” she asks, brow raising towards her hairline. Thora was convinced she’d have to promise him something, first. That’s how it usually goes. “Alright. She’s living down by the pier, wasn’t too tough to find the first time.”

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@justjasper’s Zirconia Cadash and Josephine, set around Trespasser.

Thank you so much for commissioning me, Jasper! I love getting to draw these tense, tender, quiet moments.

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☀ cantoinmaschera | feynriel

Feynriel pulls a little face. It says that, yes, he knows what she thought, it says that he’s used to it, that he heard it before from others who were less tactful and felt the need to say it aloud.

« I am as much human as I am Dalish, you could say. » He believed it more strongly, more defiantly, before actually arriving here. And to think that he could do so much! He could do so much! But he’s always with a foot in the Beyond and one in the waking world; a foot wearing a shoe, the other going bare.

He breathes out, his shoulders and chest deflating a little, and offers Thora a small smile, for her elvhen among the rest. So, a smuggler, like he guessed.

« Feynriel. Nice to meet you. I’m here for learning — one of those you’re bringing lyrium for. » Except that he doesn’t need it. He fluctuates across the Veil, sometimes staring through it like through a hole in a curtain, while he’s being stared at from the other side.

He looks away, towards where Kirkwall is, perched on the cliff edge of the mountains. « …Have you been to the city? », he asks suddenly, thinking of his mother. « Do you know how’s it going there? »

Oof, this is awkward. And even worse, she gets the distinct feeling she isn’t the first person to say some dumb shit to him.

“That’s, um...” Good for him? Interesting? “You sound like you’ve got quite a life’s story.” Which seems to be the theme around these parts. Things are more straightforward in Ostwick. “It’s good to meet you. Sorry about, y’know, assuming things.”

She nods. “I’m staying there a while. Boss’s orders.” The Dasher has a nose for the kinds of danger that drove profits up in their favour, and Kirkwall is rife with it. Ex-Templars hooked on the stuff, apostate mages who can’t get it through the regular channels, and Dalish clans who take a pack of criminals over the Chantry.  “It’s, uh--” A bit of a dump. “Things are getting more tense with the qunari, or at least it seems they are. For the most part they’re still cooped up in that compound, but they look menacing enough that they don’t have to do much to make people jumpy.”

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@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy you wanted Solas? Yes? Here’s Solas providing solace to an ailing Inquisitor.

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☀ mercysought | queen anora

   “Oh, I can understand that.” Anora gives her low chuckle that pours into a full laugh, a light a. Anora’s smile is genuine when her eyes return to the dwarf. The Queen still remembered during her teen years, the amount of trips that she had done with Cailan then to deal with business related to their country with their own hands instead of waiting for the guards to be deployed. Foolish, yes, something terrible might have happened and with so few Ferelden nobles it could have been catastrophic, but now Anora saw that that was how both of them had become so dearly loved their people “When I was younger and stuck in the middle of the middle of winter whatever sort of shelter I could find was already a blessing…” she remembered how they had their tents, but in the days where snow and wind were particularly rough… they had to seek and continue walking until finding something else. It wouldn’t have been the first time they had slept in alcoves in cliffs or abandoned wooden shacks. Anything in those situations were welcome “I would appreciate the tour greatly and I shall take your advice and suggestion on who should give me the tour, after all I don’t know master Sturhald or Solas.” 

Somehow, she doubts Anora knows what it’s like living in a shack. Or at least, she does until she remembers who her father was. The son of a farmholder, someone more than a nobody, but less than a Queen’s father. She looks at the woman before her, now, and wonders if she would’ve ever guessed if she hadn’t read it in a book. Would people look at her the same way one day, too? Forget the humble origins for the cleaner story? The idea makes her uncomfortable, and she wants to apologise... only she’s said nothing.

Thora rubs the back of her neck, embarrassed for something she’d been too polite to say. “If it would please you,” she says, “I like to think I know a little more of how it is today than either of them. The history of this place is fascinating, but-- it’s what we’re doing with it now that makes it worth coming all this way for.” She slides out of her seat, dropping to her feet. “Shall we? Or would you rather rest first, ma’am?”

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thora cadash x harding. set just after wicked eyes & wicked hearts. written for femslash february. ❤ @betterthanmaps

In the distance, the sky had cleared over Halamshiral. Storm clouds lifted to light the city proper with silver moonlight. Thora might have called it a good omen, but only if Celene were around to hear the lie. The night was theirs, unquestionably. Orlais would rise to fight at the Inquisition’s side, but it was what came after Corypheus that had her concerned. All she could think was– what if she’d just set Orlais back on the same path that had ended with Halamshiral on fire? From here, she couldn’t see the damage, only carefully trimmed hedges and a dark countryside. The city lay almost out of sight, just barely visible over the hills– just as it was meant to be.

An anxious sigh moved her as she leaned against the smooth stone banister, weary of the perfect posture she’d been forced to keep up all night. Just as her back bent, she heard the sound of leather boots at her back and she snapped up straight again. “You doing alright?” Harding’s voice carried from behind, a hand gently touched her shoulder.

“Yeah–” she said, teeth coming down on her bottom lip when she thought better of it. This night had seen enough lies. “I mean, not really.”

“Hm.” Harding hummed, eyes narrow a moment in thought before she pulled a plate from behind her back. A handful of stolen petit fours are piled onto the plate, far from the neatly arranged plates the servants had been offering all night. “Tiny cake for your thoughts?”

“Mm… n– actually, on second thought, why not.” With the night almost over, there wasn’t much reason to worry about getting sick on her uniform. Thora plucked one from Harding’s plate, taking an ungraceful bite. “Just– all of this, Celene, Briala… what happened to Gaspard.” She didn’t regret not giving him the crown, even without it he’d set his sights beyond Orlais’ borders. But that hadn’t meant he’d deserved the fate that was coming to him. “Nothing sits right.”

Harding sets the plate on the banister, humming quietly under her breath. “It’s all a little more complicated than sealing rifts and fighting nightmares, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me. Never thought I’d be more comfortable around demons than people.” Maybe she’d been spending too much time with Solas. Thora brushed a gloved hand over her hair, careful not to disturb the gold worked into her curls. “I just want to feel good about something tonight. Is that selfish?”

Harding shook her head, going silent for a good long moment before she spoke again, “I can maybe think of one thing.”

Thora’s eyes snapped towards Harding, swallowing a bite of the petit four she’d had in her mouth faster than was comfortable. She coughed, choking a little when Harding looked back at her. “I saw you when you were dancing with Florianne. Looks like those dance lessons we had paid off, huh?”

Her cheeks grew hot, looking away just as quickly as she’d looked towards her. It’d been easy, laying it on real thick with Florianne, but Florianne was a snake. Harding, on the other hand…

Well, it was difficult when you actually cared what the other person actually thought of you. Even when it didn’t make her heart beat faster just thinking about them.

“I had a good teacher,” Thora returned, lips parted in a wide grin despite her nervousness.

“Yeah, maybe.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It made me a little jealous, to be honest. Seeing someone else make their dancing debut with you.” She was joking, Thora could hear the laugh in her voice, but it sure did make her stomach flip.

“Don’t you mean: ‘Lady Inquisitor Cadash, vanquisher of the rebel mages of Ferelden?”

Harding snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. “I know what I said.”

Another silence passed between them, this one punctuated by the soft sigh of wind through the gardens, pushing the storm every further away. Thora took a slow, steadying breath, wondering how her next question measured to presenting herself to Orlais’ court. Bravery-wise, anyway. “Well, maybe you’d like her second dance?”

It was Harding’s turn to look pleasantly surprised, her lips parting in a silly little smile. Thora could’ve sworn she saw something like a blush burn beneath her freckles. “Are you serious?” Her face gets hot, and she swears the white brand on her cheek must be positively pink. Afraid that if she asks again she’ll start to stutter, she steps back from Harding and bows low, offering out her arm for her to take. Harding wordlessly slips her hand into hers, giggling when Thora presses her lips against the back of her fingers.

She tries to pull her away, back towards the the ballroom and into the public eye, but she feels Harding resist. “Wait–” she says, “Let’s just, stay out here.” Her other hand settles on Thora’s shoulder, stepping closer. “I think I’m through with sharing you for the night. We can hear the music well enough out here, let’s just…” She trails off as they start to move, recreating the same steps Thora had stumbled through a couple weeks before. “Let’s be selfish.”

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but does she know that I love her

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☀ aniente | ameridan 

“ That might be useful.   I had not thought about approaching it with any sort of technique,  but that would be the natural thing,  would it not?   Like studying,  only very…  here and now. “   If the Orlais of today was anything like the Orlais he remembered,  he could only imagine how much she’d had to learn too.

“ There is a memorial? “   That surprised him.   He had thought no one knew they were here,  that no one had found any of them  —  surely if they’d found Haron and Orinna it would not have been so difficult to find him,  too?   He had left clues,  in case that was all that was left.   Even if the ice ward on the fortress had only been broken for a short time,  if he and Telana could figure out how to use those devices to break it,  surely others could.   And Drakon…  Drakon had known where he was.   “ Who made it? “

“It’s saved me some awkward moments, no one likes to hear they’re below the Herald’s notice...” A wry smile plays along her lips. “Figuratively speaking.” Literally, well, most Orlesian nobles stood well above her eyeline. A faint blush steals into her cheeks as she recalls the occasions her memory failed her. Josephine was always quick to assuage their hurt feelings, but her own embarrassment was left to haunt her.

She honed in on his question, more eager to discuss that than her own shortcomings. “There is. Colette-- a student, her research uncovered it. As far as we can tell, the Avvar made it. They must’ve been a sight in battle, to get their attention.”

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thora cadash x harding. set just after wicked eyes & wicked hearts. written for femslash february. ❤ @betterthanmaps

In the distance, the sky had cleared over Halamshiral. Storm clouds lifted to light the city proper with silver moonlight. Thora might have called it a good omen, but only if Celene were around to hear the lie. The night was theirs, unquestionably. Orlais would rise to fight at the Inquisition’s side, but it was what came after Corypheus that had her concerned. All she could think was-- what if she’d just set Orlais back on the same path that had ended with Halamshiral on fire? From here, she couldn’t see the damage, only carefully trimmed hedges and a dark countryside. The city lay almost out of sight, just barely visible over the hills-- just as it was meant to be.

An anxious sigh moved her as she leaned against the smooth stone banister, weary of the perfect posture she’d been forced to keep up all night. Just as her back bent, she heard the sound of leather boots at her back and she snapped up straight again. “You doing alright?” Harding’s voice carried from behind, a hand gently touched her shoulder.

“Yeah--” she said, teeth coming down on her bottom lip when she thought better of it. This night had seen enough lies. “I mean, not really.”

“Hm.” Harding hummed, eyes narrow a moment in thought before she pulled a plate from behind her back. A handful of stolen petit fours are piled onto the plate, far from the neatly arranged plates the servants had been offering all night. “Tiny cake for your thoughts?”

“Mm... n-- actually, on second thought, why not.” With the night almost over, there wasn’t much reason to worry about getting sick on her uniform. Thora plucked one from Harding’s plate, taking an ungraceful bite. “Just-- all of this, Celene, Briala... what happened to Gaspard.” She didn’t regret not giving him the crown, even without it he’d set his sights beyond Orlais’ borders. But that hadn’t meant he’d deserved the fate that was coming to him. “Nothing sits right.”

Harding sets the plate on the banister, humming quietly under her breath. “It’s all a little more complicated than sealing rifts and fighting nightmares, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me. Never thought I’d be more comfortable around demons than people.” Maybe she’d been spending too much time with Solas. Thora brushed a gloved hand over her hair, careful not to disturb the gold worked into her curls. “I just want to feel good about something tonight. Is that selfish?”

Harding shook her head, going silent for a good long moment before she spoke again, “I can maybe think of one thing.”

Thora’s eyes snapped towards Harding, swallowing a bite of the petit four she’d had in her mouth faster than was comfortable. She coughed, choking a little when Harding looked back at her. “I saw you when you were dancing with Florianne. Looks like those dance lessons we had paid off, huh?”

Her cheeks grew hot, looking away just as quickly as she’d looked towards her. It’d been easy, laying it on real thick with Florianne, but Florianne was a snake. Harding, on the other hand...

Well, it was difficult when you actually cared what the other person actually thought of you. Even when it didn’t make her heart beat faster just thinking about them.

“I had a good teacher,” Thora returned, lips parted in a wide grin despite her nervousness.

“Yeah, maybe.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It made me a little jealous, to be honest. Seeing someone else make their dancing debut with you.” She was joking, Thora could hear the laugh in her voice, but it sure did make her stomach flip.

“Don’t you mean: ‘Lady Inquisitor Cadash, vanquisher of the rebel mages of Ferelden?”

Harding snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. “I know what I said.”

Another silence passed between them, this one punctuated by the soft sigh of wind through the gardens, pushing the storm every further away. Thora took a slow, steadying breath, wondering how her next question measured to presenting herself to Orlais’ court. Bravery-wise, anyway. “Well, maybe you’d like her second dance?”

It was Harding’s turn to look pleasantly surprised, her lips parting in a silly little smile. Thora could’ve sworn she saw something like a blush burn beneath her freckles. “Are you serious?” Her face gets hot, and she swears the white brand on her cheek must be positively pink. Afraid that if she asks again she’ll start to stutter, she steps back from Harding and bows low, offering out her arm for her to take. Harding wordlessly slips her hand into hers, giggling when Thora presses her lips against the back of her fingers.

She tries to pull her away, back towards the the ballroom and into the public eye, but she feels Harding resist. “Wait--” she says, “Let’s just, stay out here.” Her other hand settles on Thora’s shoulder, stepping closer. “I think I’m through with sharing you for the night. We can hear the music well enough out here, let’s just...” She trails off as they start to move, recreating the same steps Thora had stumbled through a couple weeks before. “Let’s be selfish.”

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“It’s kind of beautiful, in a way,” she says. If it’s not clear what she means, then the manner in which her chin is tilted, gazing up at the heavens makes it clear what she means. The Breach spirals, land just floating like the world’s law don’t matter (and if what Solas says about the Fade is true, maybe they don’t). “At least, in a terrifying way.”

She shakes her head, tearing her eyes away to look towards the Herald. Questions burgeon as she runs her gaze over the mark upon the young girl’s hand, wondering what Andraste might have looked like, or what she said. It feels wrong, though, looking for those kinds of answers in a kid.

“How are you holding up, anyway? That... mark.” Thora’s not sure what it is they’re calling it, to be honest. “It doesn’t hurt, I hope.”

☀ @markburdened | herald

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Dagna knows all the best ways to make things go boom <3

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“I think people forget that sometimes the person who tries to fix everyone needs fixing too”

—

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people who think the smaller person can’t be the “big spoon” are cowards

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psa: i have the sweetest friends

last night at 4am i casually recieve a message from @paper-records containing this wonderful drawing of blackwall done by the talented @lonicera-caprifolium ! i’m in love with it, especially the little touch of flowers! it’s made my week! 😍💕