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saintlethanavir · 3 years ago

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Inquisitor as a Companion: Updated

Inquisitor’s Name: Calliope Tarenan Lavellan

Alternate Name?: Calliope Tarenan Himanaris

Race, Class, & Specialization: Dalish Elf, two handed warrior, Reaver ; mage, necromancer (loyalty and/or romance dependant)

Varric’s Nickname for them: Shortstack

Default Tarot Card: Death (Upright: Endings, change, transformation, transition)

Loyalty Tarot Card: Judgement (Upright: absolution, rebirth, inner calling)

Romance Tarot Card: The Star (Upright: Hope, faith, purpose)

Hostile/Unloyal Tarot Card: Death ( Reversed: Resistance to change, personal transformation)

How they are recruited:

The Inquisitor will come upon a dalish elf loitering in front of the Chantry after completely the prologue. They’ve been trying to get the attention of any guard that walks by though most completely ignore them or say they’ll send word to the proper people. Upon the Inquisitor leaving the Chantry they call out in an annoyed tone to them, a definitive mix of an Irish and French accent.

If they’re an elf: “Will you not help a fellow elf, falon? Lot of people coming and going, ignoring my requests. Could you spare some time?

If they’re not an elf: “Would you kindly tell your people to stop pulling my leg? I need someone to actually help me and not completely ignore my requests. Think you can do that?”

At that point the Inquisitor can:

1. Apologize for the people before them not taking them seriously and ask what’s going on

2. Sigh heavily and commiserate, make a sarcastic comment about shemlen if Dalish, and ask what’s wrong

3. Tell them their tone is probably what put them off but if it helps them feel better they’ll do their best to help.

With any of these options, Calliope will say that a friend of theirs is being held in the Chantry on an assault charge. Their brother, Elessar, accidentally nabbed a templar in the shoulder while out in the woods surrounding Haven. The Templar is fine and they’d rather not let their friend rot down there. If you answered with Option 3. Calliope will be short with you, and you will start with a lower approval score.

The Inquisitor can then tell Calliope to move on or that they will release Elessar personally, and they either owe them and would like to speak to them, or that they just want to speak to them.

If the Inquisitor tells them to move on: Calliope will break into the Chantry and get their friend out. Later on in Skyhold there will be a chance to recruit them if you go down to visit a prisoner, both Elessar and Calliope were arrested for spying on the group as they settled into Skyhold. If you recruit both of them during this scene you will start out with the lowest approval you can obtain with them.

If the Inquisitor breaks Elessar out: Calliope will express their interest in repaying the Inquisitor or say that they want to repay their debt as quickly as possible so they can get back to their clan. You can either dismiss them at this point or take them on as a companion.

Where they are in Skyhold: In the reading nook Dorian stands in, usually sitting at a table and idly reading a book about dragons. You can also find them hacking apart training dummies near the tavern.

Things they Generally Approve of:

Sarcastic dialogue options

Supporting magic/mages

Supporting Elves

Criticism of the Chantry/Circle/Templars

Fighting Dragons

Being friendly towards spirits

Things they Generally Disapprove of:

Cruel/harsh criticisms of magic

Supporting the Chantry

Supporting the Circle/Templars

Criticism of Elves

Major decisions:

Greatly Approves Allying with the Mages

If in the party: “They have spent enough time in cages. Let them spread their wings, let them be free.”

If Inquisitor is an elf/mage: “Falon/Lethallen, you know just as I that magic can only be stunted under oppressive influence. Let them be free of their cages, it’s up to them what they do with their freedom.”

Back at Haven: “You did the right thing, never doubt that. They’ll be singing your praises tonight.”

Disapproves Conscripting the Mages

If in the party/Back at Haven: “You would have them trade one cage for another? Lovely.”

If the Inquisitor is an elf/mage: “I hope you release them eventually. A caged dog will bite the hand that feeds it.”

Greatly Disapproves of Allying with Templars:

If in party/Back at Haven: “You would trust a bunch of fools who believe they have a right to cage other people? That’s rich.

If the Inquisitor is an elf: “Fen’harel ma ghilana, garas quenathra. They will be the end of us all, da’len. May you learn from your mistakes.”

Slightly Approves of Conscripting the Templars:

If in party/Back at Haven: “At the very least they have to do what you say, no? I hope you know what you’re doing. “

Approves of letting the Wardens Stay

If in the party/Back at Skyhold: “The wardens have a chance to make up for what happened, thank you for giving them that chance. “

Slightly Disapproves of Exiling them

If in the party/Back at Skyhold: You didn’t exile the Fereldan Wardens did you? I wonder what will happen when the next Blight comes. I hope I’m not here to see it.

Greatly Disapproves Briala/Celene getting back together and/or Celene being on the throne/saved. Slightly Disapproves Gaspard ruling alone, and Approves of Briala puppeting Gaspard

If asked their opinion at the Winter Palace: “You should put Briala at the center and let the Empress die. She burned down the alienage, elves lost their families and lives. It was bad enough Halamshiral was taken from them once.”

If the Inquisitor is an elf: “I will help you end Empress Celene myself if it comes down to it. Briala is who I would choose. I hope you would as well.”

Greatly Approves Allying with the Ancient Elves and doing the Rituals

Disapproves Killing the Ancient Elves

Slightly Disapproves if a non elven Inquisitor or Morrigan drinks from the Well of Sorrows

Approves if an elven Inquisitor drinks from the Well of Sorrows

Any decision made to make a mage Tranquil will result in Calliope becoming hostile towards the Inquisitor and romance/loyalty is cut off

Friends in the Inquisition: Iron Bull, Dorian, Varric, Sera, Cole, Leliana, brief friendship/romance with Solas.

Romanceable?: Calliope is romanceable by male inquisitors of any race or class! Flirting is available the moment you get to Haven, though they are a lot more receptive to kind/non rival Inquisitors. A full romance is available after Here Lies the Abyss and if you continue to flirt with them, express interest in them. They will slowly reveal to you that they suffer from hallucinations (both auditory and visual) and have since they were a child, they have gotten worse since their magic appeared at the age of seven. Pressing on this matter the first time will result in them saying they don’t wish to speak more about it, but maybe in time they can tell the Inquisitor why they don’t just use their magic to alleviate some of their stress.

After Here Lies the Abyss the Inquisitor can approach Calliope about what the Nightmare said to them, as it called them Lethanavir. A non elven Inquisitor may be confused as to what that means or at least curious, but an elven Inquisitor knows that’s the title of Falon’Din. Calliope will of course explain if the Inquisitor is in need of it, but they’re just as confused as them about what that could mean for them specifically. They will joke about past lives and memory loss to lighten the mood, but will confide in the Inquisitor that what they hear in their hallucinations are the sounds of the dying. Last words and breaths. Their visual hallucinations come at times of high stress and will sometimes involve watching someone they know or don’t know die. Sometimes they become paranoid that the person is truly dead and has been replaced if it’s someone they know. They believed for some time that practicing their magic would alleviate some of these instances but it never has.

Though they don’t believe it’ll help much, an Inquisitor can either support them in building their magical talents or telling them it may not be worth it. If they support Calliope they will seek out the help of the Inner Circle Mages, and if Dorian is within the Inner Circle they will latch onto his teachings. It is also possible in the course of this romance to begin a polyamorous relationship with Calliope, Dorian, and the Iron Bull if the Inquisitor expresses interest in all three of them. It is also entirely possible for Calliope and the Inquisitor to engage in a polyam relationship with Solas, but eventually Calliope will break off the relationship with Solas for ‘personal differences’. This is also true if Calliope is not romanced and Solas isn’t pursued at first or not at all by the Inquisitor. Then if Dorian and Iron Bull are not Romanced, or if one or the other isn’t romanced, they will enter into a relationship with both or one of them.

You will get a dance scene in Halamshiral if you take Callie along with you, though the scene will go a little differently depending on what you’ve done so far in the game. If Here Lies the Abyss is done after Halamshiral you will not get a dance scene with Calliope but you will be able to flirt with them as per usual.

Upon finding them in the palace gardens sitting on the pool where you toss the coins:

Inquisitor: How are you finding the party? It must be nice to know what everyone is talking about.

Calliope: Ah yes, I love hearing about the various affairs of nobles and how they’ve been abusing their staff. At least the food is good, but I wouldn’t touch the ham no matter what Dorian says.

Inquisitor, flirting: Do you think you’ll have time for a dance later?

Calliope (if in a relationship already): Vhenan, I will be whisking you away to the dance floor no less than three times if I have my way.

(If not in a relationship yet): I think I can pencil you in for at least one. Though I will be leading, I hope that’s alright (laughs).

A romance will be locked in after Halamshiral or the completion of Here Lies the Abyss if Halamshiral was done first. They will meet the Inquisitor in their quarters and begin to show off what they’ve learned, commenting that their twin helped them perfect a barrier spell which they use on the Inquisitor. They will then share a tender moment and kiss, pushing the Inquisitor down on the bed. However, the Inquisitor can either choose to tell them they want to spend time with them but wish to not be physical, or they can continue that particular scene. Either way they’ll wake up the next morning with Calliope smiling at them and telling them they love them in Elven.

There is a repeatable kiss scene with Calliope in the Inquisitor's quarters as well as a tarot card change! They will go from a two handed warrior to a necromancer as well, though will still use a sword along with their magic. At the end of the game there will be a cut scene where Calliope follows the Inquisitor into their rooms, then sweeps them into a near crushing embrace.

Calliope: We survived, I cannot believe we survived.

Inquisitor: You sound so thrilled!

Calliope: (laughs) Asshole. You know what I mean. I am...just happy that we’re here together at the end of it all.

Fear: The Dark

What the Nightmare says to them: “Ah, Lethanavir. The Darkness will only consume you again, why do you struggle so? Wouldn’t it be better if you laid down and gave up?

Small side mission:

Whose Faithful Sing: Calliope has tasked you to help them give final rites to the Dalish elves who have helped the Inquisition but died in the process. Take their remains to the Emerald Graves, the Dales, and the Hinterlands to lay them to rest. (Grants Approval all three times).

This quest is given to you after unlocking the Emerald Graves on the War Table.

Companion quest:

In the Dark, All is Revealed: This quest is given to you when Calliope asks to see the Inquisitor post Halamshiral and romance scene (if you romanced them). There will be a cut scene where Calliope lets the Inquisitor know that their twin brother recently joined the Grey Wardens after the events of Here Lies the Abyss, citing that he wanted to actually do something for the world for once. While Calliope had their reservations about this, especially because of the false Calling, Elessar did this anyway though has not had his Joining yet. He was recruited into the Grey Wardens of Ferelden and went with them on an excursion to the Deep Roads to block off some darkspawn hordes only to get trapped in a cave in. Calliope wants your help to get Elessar out of this situation.

If Calliope hasn’t been romanced, and you are at low approval, and you tell them you can’t do this for them they will permanently leave the Inquisition. Refer to end card section for what happens post DAI and Trespasser. If you take this quest however keep reading!

Calliope and the Inquisitor will go to the Storm Coast where the cave in happened and search for Elessar. They encounter the main group made up of grey wardens and Legion of the Dead soldiers, who mention the Elessar was cut off from the main group with Carver Hawke (Bethany Hawke if Carver did not survive DA2, or an unnamed senior warden if either are unavailable). After fighting through a horde, Calliope mentions that they’re having trouble with seeing things and that there are voices in their head. A romanced Inquisitor can ask if they’re alright and they’ll just say that they’re fine, it’s nothing.

After another horde, there will be a cut scene where Calliope faints after they fell all the darkspawn. There’s a moment where the party freaks out only for Calliope to open their eyes wide and sharply inhale, with a two toned voice saying that there’s something big coming. And an ogre will show up! Their abilities will be slightly more erratic,either as a necromancer or a Reaver and halfway through the fight Carver (or whoever it was) will show up with Elessar. The twins begin to fight in sync and act much in the same manner until the ogre is felled and the Inquisitor can ask questions. The twins will reveal that they are Falon’Din and Dirthamen, a revelation to both of them, as the gods needed time to reveal and dedicate themselves to the cause. They explain that they are inhabiting the bodies of the twins not unlike how the Old God soul is inhabiting Keiran (if he was the result of the Dark Ritual. If he was not born they will liken it to being reincarnation. All references to being an abomination are met with scorn. They will then ascend to the surface after the gods release their holds, and the Inquisitor can interrogate the twins. Both mention they had no idea what was going on and will need some time to process, but they promise they’ll keep the Inquisitor posted. If they’re not elven they will also explain who the gods are.

Once back at Skyhold a cutscene will trigger with Calliope asking to talk to the Inquisitor in their quarters. They’ll reveal that they’ve talked to Falon’Din, or what they believe is Falon’Din, and that while things are still murky they’re grateful for the Inquisitor helping them and their twin brother. If the Inquisitor is romanced, Calliope will mention that they understand if the Inquisitor is no longer interested, but the Inquisitor can reassure them that they still are and this doesn’t change who Calliope is as a person.

End Cards/Trespasser:

If loyal to the Inquisitor: ‘Calliope promised to stay at the Inquisitors side, as a bodyguard and friend. The Tarenan Clan are steadfast allies to the Inquisition, who hopes this will finally be a step towards peace for the Dalish.’

If romanced: ‘The Inquisitor and their paramour, the Lethanavir made quite the ripple amongst Chantry officials when they announced their partnership. Maker help anyone who should stand against them. Though some still grumble about and supposed elven god being in love with the Herald of Andraste.’

If they left the Inquistion: ‘Not much is known about what happened to Lavellan/Himanaris, though some say they’ve spotted the elf in the Emerald Graves. Though it was only ever for a moment. They left behind whispers of death and revenge, so the soldiers say.’

Trespasser: ‘They found traces of Lavellan/Himanaris between a section of Crossroads where it seems they have amassed quite the following. Dalish elves flock towards rumors of the reincarnation of Falon’Din and Dirthamen, but whether or not those rumors can be trusted is yet to be seen.’

If romanced: ‘What transpired at the Council leaves many questions for Calliope, but they know they will always have their Inquisitor close at hand. Come what may they will not let the growing threat of Fen’Harel and his plans overshadow theirs. There are fewer grumbles from the Chantry about their relationship with the Inquisitor, but the fires have been stoked once more after Calliope proposed. What will come for them next, its anyone’s guess.’

If loyal to the Inquisitor: ‘Promises to the Inquisition were made and they will be kept. Plans have come to fruition between Dorian and the Lethanavir, scouring the lands for any trace of Fen’harel and his spies (if Dorian is not romanced). Rumors have spread that the Magister may have even taken on Calliope as his paramour. The Magisterium has certain words for the pair, but they always fall on deaf ears.

#dragon age #calliope lavellan #this is a long one folks lmao

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crackinglamb · 5 years ago

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Fluff-uary Prompt 29 - Bonus Fluff

(DA - Hawke/Varric)

Hawke literally fell out of the Fade.

Solas had told her to focus on what she wanted, and so she had. She didn't know how long she'd traveled, or how far – was measurable distance even a thing in the Fade? – but she'd finally gotten to a spot where the Veil was thin. The Old Song swelled in her mind, drowning out everything else. She pressed her hand and the crossbow bolt she'd never let go of into the place where the Song was loudest, forcing her way through. For a moment she'd been in freefall, weightless but shifting, and then she'd been on pavement in the dark of night.

She landed on her knees and vomited bile before she was able to look up and see where she was. It was hard to tell in the gloom. Tendrils of fog curled around the foundation of buildings and obscured roads and for a moment she froze, her first instinct to think that she was still in the Fade. She shook her head and looked again; the fog wasn't green. She'd had enough of green fog to last her several lifetimes. She knew she was in Kirkwall, she could hear the chains in the harbor. She got up and stumbled down alleys and streets, eventually turning a corner that her feet hadn't forgotten even though she still didn't know where she was on a conscious level. She sank to her knees once more and she laughed, the sound coming out more like sobs.

The swinging sign of the Hanged Man hadn't changed, although the building had. It was raining, and she lifted her face to it, letting it wash her clean from however long she'd been stuck there, battling for her life and her wits. She opened her mouth to the rain, drinking in the sweet simple taste of skyborne water.

The door to the tavern opened. The sound of her cackling must have drawn the attention of the crowd inside. She wondered...

“Demon!” Varric snapped, pointing Bianca at her. She stayed on her knees, looking him over. He looked awful. Not so much in how he was dressed – which was far richer than she'd ever seen – but in his face. He looked haggard and exhausted, with deep lines between his brows that hadn't been there before. He looked older.

He looked like he'd mourned her for far too long.

“How long has it been?” she asked. Time and distance might have no meaning inside the Fade, but that didn't translate to how much was passing outside of it. She knew at least on some level that it had been long enough for Solas to put his plans into motion. Not that she even knew what they were. Just that the elf was no longer just an elf. Getting sidetracked, Hawke. “Varric, how long?”

“Do not call me by my name, demon,” he spat, still holding Bianca aimed at her face. “You can't fool me, Hawke is dead.”

“No...” she whispered. She hadn't considered this. Well, she had, but only briefly before she'd been stuck in another fight for her life with the denizens of the far side before finally getting herself somewhere 'safe'. “My name is Carmilla Marian Hawke. I've always hated it because it was too high class and girly,” she went on, almost desperately, seeing him still stare at her in revulsion and fear. She paused for breath, wondering what possible thing she could say that only they two would have known. “The first thing you said to me was 'how do you do' and you were twirling a bolt on your fingers like a showoff. You'd stopped a pickpocket for me. You clocked him. Varric, please...it's me. It's really me.”

Bianca dipped but didn't fall completely in his hands. A crowd had gathered around him, standing well clear of his line of fire. He was still staring at her, but the expression had fallen flat into shock. He cleared his throat and finally spoke. “Right hand or left?”

“What?”

“Right hand or left. How did I clock him?”

“Milord...?” one of the onlookers asked softly, as if he too couldn't understand why that was important.

Hawke's eyes widened and she surged to her feet, ignoring the dizziness that had set in once her body realized she wasn't just a figment of her own imagination. “Maker damn you for a nug wrangler! When did you start cashing in on that Merchant Prince bullshit? And it was a left hook, you ambidextrous son of a...dwarf.”

He wasn't looking at her face now. He was staring at her hand. She held up the bolt and let him see it, dulled from use, ragged at the ends where she'd constantly carried it. That wasn't the only thing he was looking at. A tendril of bright blue traced along the length of her middle finger from the tip, spreading out to cover her palm in etched lines and crooked angles. It looked almost exactly like a vein of raw lyrium, as indeed it was a lyrium mark. She'd never been a mage, even though the magic ran strong in her family, but through trial and error she had learned she could make things real, a useful tool in the Fade where so much was not. Her first meeting with Solas had anchored it firmly into the fiber of her being, and now it would never leave her.

The transition from angry to awed in Varric's eyes started slow, so slow she nearly missed it. Then he was laughing and Bianca slid behind his back into her holster. And then his hands were on her face, pulling her back to her knees, cradling her cheek as rain washed down on them both. “Hawke? My Hawke?”

“Varric, tell me, please. How long has it been?” She leaned into his touch, never forgotten, no matter how much had happened since the last time his hand caressed her face.

“Five years, Cara. It's been five years since we left you in the Fade.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the years she'd missed. No wonder Solas was surprised that she had still been there when she saw him, just...just a while ago. No wonder she could hear the Song so strongly, when most people didn't hear it at all. She'd known that lyrium passed between both sides, and stayed close to it when she could in her endless searching for a place the Veil was thin. She knew it had changed her. And now it had brought her home, no matter how long it had taken. Just like he said it would.

When she opened her eyes again, she put any thought of the elvhen mage god out of her mind and smiled at her dwarf. Varric hadn't gone on without her, it seemed. She lifted a trembling hand and covered his against her cheek. So much time had passed. Were they even still the same people as before? Would her Templar-like abilities scare him away? After everything that had happened to him, he was not likely to be much of a fan.

“My lord Viscount,” another voice said, breaking the perfect silence of the moment. “Should we not still test her...er...I mean to say...she could still be a demon...”

Varric tossed a scowl over his shoulder and the crowd shrank back from him. “I know this woman. She is the Champion of Kirkwall.” He looked back to her, his eyes twinkling now in the spilled light from the Hanged Man. “And she's mine.”

He kissed her then, in front of them all and the years and miles shed off her like the rain pouring off her shoulders, inconsequential and irrelevant. His breath warmed her face and his touch made her feel solid. She could have stayed there in the rain forever as long as he was kissing her, his presence filling her with the Song, grounding her in what was true.

When he finally drew back, she smirked at him, a flicker of the old Hawke coming through. “So...Viscount?”

He smirked back and while at first it seemed unfamiliar to his facial muscles, they remembered at last and it looked more natural. Her trusty dwarf. Storyteller. Rogue. Love of her life. “Yeah. Shit, you've missed a lot. ��Hey, you wanna take a shot at being a Viscountess?”

Something grew in her, something warm and golden that spread through her limbs like fire, like healing. The Song flared in her head, then fell soft, whispering from the corners. She realized she knew more than he thought she did, and passed a final thought for Solas...Fen'Harel. She might know more than Varric now.

No time to waste, she thought. He said for whatever time remained. She stood up, shaking the rain from her eyes. “Little Tethrases,” she whispered aloud, seeing Varric's faint smile echo her own. She could make that happen now, couldn't she? “You're on, Varric. As soon as you buy me dinner. And a drink or ten.”

“I can do that.” He took her hand in his. “What happened to your hair?”

She huffed lightly, the mundane question so beyond funny that she almost didn't know how to reply. She touched the roughly shorn ends. Felt like an hour ago. A year. A century. Maybe just a few seconds. “I cut it off. It's a long story.”

“Well, we've got time.”

She followed him into the Hanged Man without answering. Somewhere out there her friend was hurting, too many of her friends were hurting. The wolf still counted among the sheep. But that was for later. Now was for them.

(Notes on this ending can be read on the ao3 posting here)

#FLUFF-uary 2020 #dragon age #hawke/varric

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chin-up-love · 8 years ago

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On The Brink

Hey! This is my first fanfic so all feed back is appreciated. This will be a series if anyone shows interest.

Dean x reader , Sam Winchester

Warnings: mentions of blood, angst, nightmare, drunk!Dean, cursing. I think that’s it!

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You walk towards your old dusty motel room with heavy feet. With every step your legs are screaming and begging you to collapse right there in front of the bright orange door. As you finally will the door open after fumbling with the door knob you are met with what is the closest thing to home you’ve had in months. The room looks as if it could be a embodiment of everything from the 80��s. The walls are all different shades of cringey neon orange and the poor carpet was cursed with a sick looking green.

With a heavy sigh you will your legs a couple more feet until you collapse with a groan onto the creaky old bed. Your mind plays back every moment of your hunt. You see the pure blackness in the eyes of a child as you are performing the exorcism. You relive the ache in your chest as the child’s body lay limp. Tears well up in your eyes and you scold your brain for reminding you of the heartbreak you rather not relive. This particular hunt left you with little to no external wounds, but you know the image of that five year old boy will haunt your nightmares for weeks if not months. With his beautiful brown hair and blood stained shirt in mind your consciousness slipped into darkness.

You wake up with a gut wrenching scream. Reaching for your gun you jump out of bed to assess the situation. Once you’ve determined that the scream was in fact your own you settle back down on the bed gun still in hand. You stare at the pistol with a strange smile on your face. It was your mother’s and never failed to bring a strange air of safety around you. She was the one who taught you to hunt against your father’s wishes. He left us on your thirteenth birthday to start a new family with some kind looking southern women. Fast forward another 13 years and he has three kids and two dogs. A white picket fence surrounding all that you could never have.

Your cell phone buzzing harshly on the side table breaks you from the bitter thought. You trade your gun for the phone and smile when you see Sam’s name in all caps. You flip your phone open and you’re met with a the sweet sound of Baby’s purr in the background.

You can hear Sammy hushing who you could only assume is Dean. “Hey (Y/N). I hope I didn’t wake you up, but I was wondering if you were by any chance at a motel called… De Sola Inn?”

You jump out of bed and push the harsh green curtain to the side slightly and see the one and only Winchester Impala pulling in the parking lot. A sudden jolt of excitement courses through your veins. You slap your phone closed and run out to meet Sam as he get’s out of the driver side door.

Sam gives you his signature smile. “So that’s a yes then obviously.”

He let’s a soft chuckle as you punch his arm with just enough gusto to hurt. “What the hell are you doin in this neck of the woods?”

That’s when Dean finally decides to get out of the car. You feel your chest get tight and a little of the excitement drain from your body as he stumbles his drunken ass towards you and Sammy. He slings his arm over Sam’s shoulder and leans heavily on him. Sam turns to me with an apologetic look and sighs. “ We finished up a hunt not far from here and figured we could stop for a couple beers on the way back to the bunker. This idiot mistook a couple of beers for a six pack and decided to get plastered. I got wind that you might be in town through the grapevines and figured we could stay here and catch up.”

You push a sympathetic smile in Sam’s direction before you looked over the old Winchester. His hair was standing in all direction and his lips looked swollen from what you could only guess was a very passionate drunken kiss. You casted your eyes back in the direction of your room and your heart begged your brain to walk back inside and sleep. Your brain won and before you could stop words spilled from your mouth. “Well my room is a double. You both could just stay in my room for the night. I have a couch we can stick Dean on so you could have the bed.”

Sam opens his mouth and before he can thank you he is interrupted by Deans harsh scoff. “All i get is a fucking couch? Send me to the dog house why don’t you babe.”

You shudder at the nickname that used to bring butterflies to your stomach. You and Sam share a look as you turn and walk back towards your door assuming Sam will get the hint to come in. You leave the door open for Sam as he helps Dean inside and guides him towards the couch. You go and grab a big bowl for Dean just in case he needs to throw up and can’t get to the bathroom fast enough. You also leave two advil and a small class of water for when he gets up. As you turn to go the bathroom you feel a large hand rub your back and you visibly relax when you see it’s Sam. “I’m sorry we came in so late (Y/N).”

With that you glance at the alarm clock sitting on the side table of your bed and a small humorless laugh leaves you before you could hold it down. “Honestly I had no idea it was three in the morning until right now. Don’t be sorry Sam. You know you are always welcome no matter where you are.”

That brings a smile to his face before he turns to Dean’s now sleeping figure. “I know I’m welcomed but I’m sorry for bringing him around. I know that after how things ended between-”

“It’s okay. If you need me I’m here. You know that goes for both of you. No matter what happens or what we go through us hunters have to have each others backs.” You try to hide the pain in your eyes with a bright smile. “Well I’m going to change into some pj’s real quick and then the bathroom is all yours if you need it.”

With that you grab a random shirt and shorts and head to the bathroom. You shut the door softly and flick the lights on. You head over to the mirror and smile the fake smile you presented Sam with only a few seconds ago. You knew he didn’t believe you. Your (Y/E/C) looked drained and full of an underlying pain waiting to leak out at any moment. You pull your shirt off with tired arms and slip the other shirt on. It was one that used to be your fathers. Your mother used to wear it all the time but as you grew older you slowly began to steal it from her.

After finishing up in the restroom you flick the light back off and head back to bed. You peal back the blankets and crawl into the much needed safety net. You catch Sam’s glance and deliver a genuine smile. “Good night Sam.”

“Good night (Y/N).”

You wake with heavy eyelids begging to pull you back into a deep slumber. You turn to your right and see the bed Sam was sleeping in last night is empty. The sheets returned to a polished and neatly made manner leaving you to question if last night was a dream. The door suddenly opens to Sam carrying bags that your stomach hopes is full of readily available food. He drops the bags of at the table and comes and sits on the side of your bed. “Good morning sleeping beauty.”

You sit up and softly nudge him as a goofy smile finds it’s way to your face. You sit next to him with your knee softly bumping his as you lean your head on his shoulder. “I really missed you Sam.”

Sam rests his hand on your lower thigh and sighs softly. “I really missed you to (Y/N/N).” With a soft slap to your leg he stands up. “Now it’s time to fill that stomach of yours.”

He coaxed you out of bed as he slowly tugged on your arms making you stand up and trudge over to the table. You look in the bags and let out a fist bump into the air when you see that Sam indeed went out to get breakfast. Sam chuckled at your act of appreciation and you saw him suddenly look behind you with a slightly worried look. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Dean. You simply sat down with your food and uncovered your favorite breakfast meal. With a bright smile in Sam’s direction you dug in.

Dean moved around to the other side of the table and sat down. “No one laugh or speak. I have the worst hangover and the Advil hasn’t started working yet. Thanks for that by the way Sam.”

You and Sam shared a look in which you conveyed you didn’t care about Dean’s misconception. You did just as Dean wished and the three of you ate in silence. As you finished up Dean must of decided that the Advil had kicked in enough because he began a conversation with Sam. Most of the conversation happened purely through eye contact. You stood and disposed of your foods container giving a chance for the brothers to talk in hushed voices. Not that you were trying but you caught Dean saying something along the lines of “Why the fuck did you bring me here. You know she has no interest in being anywhere near us.” You then slipped back into your chair before Sam could respond to his brother in anyway.

“Thanks for the breakfast Sam. It really hit the spot.”

“No problem. It’s the least I could do.”

You then turn your attention to a visibly uncomfortable Dean. You decide then and there he shouldn’t be uncomfortable around you. He doesn’t even know why you left the brothers a year back.

You shifted your body language into an open and kind manner and smiled softly at Dean. “So what’s the plan? Are you guys heading back to the bunker or are you off to another hunt?”

Dean bit his lip still as he contemplated leaving Sammy to answer for him. As you continued to look at him expectantly he caved. “I think we’re heading back to the bunker for a while. We just finished up a tough couple of hunt’s and I’m ready for a brief break.”

Sam nodded in agreement before nudging your foot under the table effectively catching your attention. He sent a thank you with his eyes and you sent back a no problem. He then cleared his throat softly. “What about you? I assume you just finished up around here because you aren’t running around in hunting mode.”

You tried to keep the image of the hunt out of your head as you nodded. “Yeah I just finished up. I think I’ll stay here and keep my ear to the ground for a bit. Try to figure out where I’m going next.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and you were scared to hear what was going to come out of his mouth next. “Come back to the bunker with us.” He hesitated and looked up to see the reserved look in your eye. “Only if you want to of course. It would be nice to have someone to keep Sam here occupied for a while.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about me as if I’m a kid.” Then Sam shifts his attention all around your body. “Only if you wanna come hang out for a little while. It would be cheaper than this dump.”

You shifted in your seat contemplating the idea of being back in the bunker. Your fingers found their way to the hem of your shirt and you tugged and played with the frayed edge carefully. You could feel the Winchesters shifting to the edge of their seats in anticipation of your answer. You seemingly decided you tortured them enough because the next few words left your lips with haste. “I’ll go.”

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed. Feedback welcome.

#dean x reader #dean x reader angst #angst #spn #reader insert #sam winchester #Winchester #dean winchester

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strivingscribe · 8 years ago

Text

ILIC ~ Ch 25

It’s Lost Its Charm by MsMoon

Chapter 25 ~ RSVP This

Chapters: 25/?

Chapter Navigation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,16, 17, 18,19,20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25,

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age,

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence,

Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…

Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasn’t too bad… At least she wasn’t the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).

Notes: Whelp...here I am again from my monthly hiatus :| This is getting to be a habit. Thanks for all the comments and well-wishes from everyone :) It really cheered me up.

There was this whole mess with the government nearly pulling my financial aid, and struggling with that and...well TLDR: I’m back on financial aid. Which means I won’t have to drop out of college 2 classes away from my bachelors! Yay!

As always, prompts, links, and tidbits are always available here on Striving Scribe. Hey :) If you like what I’m about, and you want to help me survive the librarian's ruthless summer reading program, you could totally follow my tumblr and heart some entries :3 That’d be cool of you.

And hey…thanks :)

Amy is not sleeping right now, she is probably up and being shadowed by Solas or Siheta or both.

Magpie is standing on the field, having given both Sam and Cullen a 'report' about the last couple of days.

“Is there a reason for this change in behavior?” Sam asks, squinting in her general direction.

“Is there a reason you’re worried about her levels of compliance?” Solas asks—obviously Siheta is shadowing Amy—coming up behind her.

Sam shrugs. “It’s just… not very like Amy.” Sam grunts, his squint shifting to the ground.

“It is uncommon.” Solas murmurs.

“Uncommon?” Cullen half chuckles. “Uncommon is a kind word.” His eyebrows rise as he shakes his head. “Amy would more likely storm this field before a week is up than she would accept her rest.”

“It could just be that her wounds were that severe.” Sam reminded, a bleak expression settling in his eyes.

Magpie takes a deep breath through her nose, letting it sift out. She meets Cullen’s eyes, the gesture lasting long enough for his gaze to sharpen. He recognizes her internal battle and begins to pay attention more keenly.

“I told her.” Magpie announces.

Solas’s head droops, his molars grinding only enough that she can notice, and she can because she’s been paying attention to his behavior a lot more lately.

Cullen’s eyes narrow and Sam’s widen, the evidence of suspicion and surprise side by side.

“You told her.” Cullen said, his voice deepening—a question, asking for clarification as well as demanding ‘what were you thinking!’ at the same time.

“Yes. I told her. I told her about her elevated status and that she isn’t to worry about the field or serving in the tavern any longer.”

“Why would you do that?” Cullen asks, both affronted and incredulous. He takes a step towards her, but she marches into his space.

“It’s called being decent, halla-head!” she growls through bared teeth. “It’s also common sense. As in it should be obvious, but since you’re not used to dealing with it—‘it’ being ‘women’ or ‘people in general’— I’ll spell it out for you.”

Cullen glares down at her, more in a ‘put out’ sort of way than conveying any genuine form of anger. He’s the commander of the inquisition, and she is a tiny Dalish girl-child… she should not step into his space.

“Please, keep your voice down.” Cullen demands, following his own advice.

“Maybe it’s escaped your keen knowledge, but Amy—like almost every other person in the world—needs time to process things. She has a reaction, and she processes, then she comes to a magnanimous decision. She did it with Bull, she did it with Leliana. She’s gonna do it with you and Josephine, but you have to give her the chance to do it.”

Cullen blinked, but looked away, towards the horizon.

“Wait, what happened with Bull?” Sam asks, and while his tone sounds innocent enough… Magpie knows that it could result in anything but innocent intentions.

“I. Don’t. Know.” Magpie grumbled, half-turning towards his direction. “It was when you had me shadowing her. I wasn’t close enough to actually listen in. But one night they had a heart to heart. She said some things, he said some things, he hurt her feelings somehow, and she withdrew. It’s what she does, because she’s afraid that if she’s around a person when her emotions are all raw, she’s going to do something she regrets. She knows she needs that time, and so she does it.”

“That’s very astute of you to notice.” Solas says, one of his infamous backhanded compliments that creeps under her skin. It wouldn’t be half so annoying if he didn’t sound so ridiculously surprised.

“That’s what I do. I pay attention to people.” She turns back to Cullen, her tone softening just slightly, because she didn't need to make an enemy here. Cullen needed to understand why the decision had been necessary, that’s all. “And in that, I made the ‘executive decision’ to tell Amy. Because she needs time to process all the decisions you’ve made for her without consulting her, otherwise she might-could break your pretty face.” Magpie took a deep breath before whispering. “You’re welcome.”

“Aw, you think Cullen’s pretty too?” Sam asked, ever willing to deflect tension with humor.

Cullen’s face settles into an expression that reeks of ‘no’.

Magpie turns and begins walking away.

“This conversation isn’t over.” Cullen decides.

“Actually it is.” Magpie says, stopping. “There’s really nothing else to say. I told her. She knows. She has known for three days now.”

Cullen blinks rapidly, assimilating this information with everything he already knew of Amy, her condition, her personality, and...it doesn’t make sense.

“Do you think…” Sam begins. “Do you think she’s been more docile because she’s hurt or…?”

“You mean because of the injuries she’s sustained?” Solas asks. Sam nods and Solas answers by shaking his head. Magpie answer with a barked laugh.

“Very well.” Cullen says, his entire body shifting as though to brace for impact. “Why do you think her behavior has changed?”

Solas surveys him for a moment before looking to Magpie, as if to say ‘well, go on then’.

“Well.” Magpie takes a deep breath. “First, she’s hurt. Like, her feelings are hurt. I’d tell you to put yourself in her place, but I don’t think you can.” she pronounced, ignoring their looks of indignation. “No offense intended, it’s just impossible to think like she thinks. She’s worked hard, really really hard, to be welcome on the field and the tavern is where she can enjoy her time with everyone. So, losing that smarts. Also, the fact that someone made a decision for her without consulting her is bound to rankle.”

Solas was nodding, but he held up a hand in Sam’s general direction when the man tried to open his mouth. It was amusing to watch this silent exchange.

“At the same time, she probably thinks she’s heinously selfish for wanting to remain on the field and in the tavern, but she knows those are the places where she’s most comfortable. She’s not used to having others make decisions for her, but it's pretty obvious that she has had some measure of authority that delegates and dictates decisions..at least in some area of her life... So, she’s trying to accept her new circumstances with grace and maturity.”

Cullen stops squinting at the horizon, turning back in their general direction so that he can regard both Magpie and Solas with a sigh.

“Well.. that’s good then.” Sam said, all of the awkward radiating off of him.

“I would give her a few more days….” Solas advised, and Magpie was quick to nod her opinion. “By then, she should be more resigned and accepting.”

Now it was Cullen’s turn to grind his molars. “Good advice.” he grumbled almost to himself. Then his eyes landed on Magpie. “As for your ‘executive decision’—”

“What about it.” It wasn’t a question so much as a challenge.

Cullen took a deep breath, as if to remind himself not to rage. “Your ‘executive decision’ while not within your rights—”

“Take it to your Andraste.” Magpie snapped.

“I beg your pardon?” Cullen’s voice became low and dangerous.

“Maybe this has escaped your notice, but we’re not friends and I don’t work for you.” Magpie reminded. “I told Amy because if I’m working for anyone, it’s her. Not you, not Sam, not those primped up chantry girls, and not your Andraste.”

“And you think she would be happy to know you’ve been conveying reports to us?” Cullen asked.

“Well, since she told me to continue keeping you informed?....Yeah. I think she’d be fine with it.” Cullen blinked rapidly, assimilating this new information. Sam let out a descending whistle.

“When did this happen?” Solas asks.

“You sleep a lot.” Magpie reminded him.

His eyebrows rose and he gave the barest hint of a nod. “Sleep is sacred.”

This was his only defense.

It almost made Magpie smirk. Almost.

Ok, it did make her smirk.

“Wait a minute.” Sam interceded. “Amy told you to keep reporting back to Cullen and me?”

“Yes.” Magpie grumbled, shrugging. “She seemed to know it was going on even when I was telling her. Said you probably would feel better knowing anyway.” Cullen’s face settled in an exhausted scowl.

“She has been a superb patient.” Solas reminded. “Especially over the past few days.”

“Well, that’s because the pair of you are intent on draining her soul.”

“That seems a little dramatic.” Cullen grumbled.

“No it isn’t. You’ve enacted restrictions on her that completely rob her of her identity.” She pointed to Cullen. “You don’t want her on the field, and she’s fought hard to get here,” She pointed to Solas. “And you refuse to allow her to sing, and what else does she even have if she can’t sing? It’s literally the thing everyone asks her for, and it’s the easiest way she can express herself.”

“Why can’t she sing?” Sam asked, peering at Solas curiously.

Solas glared momentarily at Magpie, but then he nodded before explaining. “Amy is using a type of magic, as I’m sure you can tell.”

“She did manage to heal a wound in her back just with a song.” Cullen said with a grim nod.

“She was not a mage before she passed through the breech.”

“...seriously?” Sam asked.

Solas shook his head. “Indeed. And it appears that the magic of the Fade does not touch her… as though there is some sort of seal around her mind or spirit that keeps them separated.”

“But that’s...that’s good...isn’t it?” Sam was asking, not knowing the first thing about magic.

“Yes, and no. Amy does not dream in the Fade, she is untouched by its magic and its influence. However, that begs the question, where is her magic coming from?”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”

“I assume it has to come from within. This would mean that her own energy is what powers her magic...and if that is the case, one must question what would happen if that energy should run out.”

There was a beat of silence as the two men considered this question.

“Are you suggesting that Amy could die by expending too much of her energy via...singing?” Cullen asked.

Solas shrugged. “I’m only certain that I don’t know. However, if the well she draws from is internal...it would be better to focus on conservation instead of experimentation.”

“That’s his answer.” Magpie said. “Siheta says that ‘careful observation’ is more appropriate. Elossa has also said that it follows that her energy is something that can renew itself. Bax doesn’t know what to think, or if he does he’s content to look thoughtful and remain silent.”

“And they are experts in the area.” Solas said, more as a soffing reminder that no one really knew for a fact what was going on with Amy.

Magpie gave him the most bizarre expression. It was equal parts frustration and exhaustion. “When you actually find an expert in whatever it is that Amy is, you let me know.” She replied. “I’m just saying, yours isn’t the only opinion.” Solas only nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Have you shared these opinions with Amy?” Solas asked.

“What makes you think Siheta hasn’t already?”

“What makes you assume she has?”

“This..” Magpie messaged her brow. “Is a circular conversation, at best.” she sighed. “Besides, if you’re argument is that Amy’s too weak to expend energy, magical or otherwise, then that won’t be so for much longer. She’s gotten much stronger in the past week.”

“That’s… fantastic.” Sam grumbled. “I’ve never heard of anyone taking an arrow to the back and just walking around within a week.”

“It hit her in such a way that it stuck between her shoulder blade and ribs.” Cullen murmured. “I was more worried about her lung being punctured, but I think it was obvious that didn’t happen.”

“Why do you say that?”

“...well...she was singing immediately afterward.” Cullen reminded. “One doesn’t puncture a lung and strike up a rousing song.”

Solas seemed to be considering that critically. “I was more concerned with the muscles that were severed near her arm, but those seem to have mended.”

“...entirely?” Cullen asked.

“Not quite.” Solas amended. “She continues to report lingering aches and twinges.” Solas reported. “I am confident that, with diligent attention given to exercise, her left arm will regain a full range of motion within a few months.”

They all seemed to think over these details before Magpie murmured. “That’s crazy.”

“It is!” Sam seconded. He was relieved someone else finally said what he’d been thinking.

“I have never heard of such a swift recovery.” Cullen reported. “Ever.”

“Could she be doing something without even knowing that she’s doing something?” Magpie asked, her question directed at Solas.

“.. some form of ambient magic?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you.”

He breathed out a soft laugh before nodding. “I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility.”

“You’re saying she’s using whatever energy she has to...what? Just...bridge the gap? Make herself well?” Cullen asked.

Solas thought over the prospect for a moment before nodding. “It is possible that is happening… though, her lacking of any magical background causes her to….falter.” He trailed off. “She is unschooled in channeling energy or willing magical forces to obey her… it would make sense that this is taking her so much time to accomplish, because she doesn’t know what she is doing.”

“She could potentially heal herself entirely.” Sam’s statement was less of a statement. It sounded more like he was entreating Solas to make this leap into a reality.

Solas sighed, rolling his shoulders back. “It is not outside the realm of possibility.”

“Could she be trained?” Cullen asked.

“Yes. That is to say, she would be a most dutiful student.” Solas murmured almost absently.

“You seem genuine and yet uncertain.” Cullen eyed him expectantly.

“Amy would apply herself to any training we offered her.” Solas deciphered, illustrating his point before following up with his concerns. “I can promise no definite results, as her circumstances are distinct, and she has received no previous training.” he shrugged. “However, it bears stating that no one can become such a disciplined schlar and fighter without approaching training in a diligent fashion. If Amy were to allow herself to be trained… there’s no telling what all she could learn.”

There was a second while Magpie, Cullen, and Sam examined Solas’s words.

“Sooo… she can try, but who knows?” Magpie murmured.

Solas smiled almost bitingly at her. “Quite.”

“I assume you intend to tell Amy of this?” Cullen asked, not quite looking at Magpie. It was clear that is who he was questioning.

“Yes.”

He nodded. He took in a deep breath through his nose, thankful that the cold air no longer seared his sinuses. “That isn’t the worst thing I could imagine.”

“And I’m taking Bax with me when I go back to her.”

“What?”

“Why?” Solas asked.

“Because she misses him.”

Cullen stared at her with his mouth open, but was otherwise silent. He shook his head and shrugged, “Well… I don’t think I’m in charge of that, but I don’t suppose it would be a problem.”

“Who is in charge of that?” Sam asked. Cullen only shook his head. But then the horn signaling approaching travelers sounded, gaining their attention.

“Good. Good meeting.” Magpie said with a nod. “I’ll be on my way then.”

“Magpie.” Cullen’s words stopped her from leaving, but she still kept her distance. “There’s really no need for any hostility… None of us want anything more than to keep her safe.”

Magpie’s stance softened, but only somewhat. “Yeah. Well. Just remember sometimes, that ‘keeping’ feels a lot like a stranglehold.” she reminded before finally taking her leave. Cullen watched her leave, his mind working quickly.

“So… Magpie is working for Amy.” he murmured.

“I’m uncertain that statement means exactly what you think it means.” Solas amended. “I believe Magpie simply acts upon Amy’s behalf. It isn’t as if Amy has employed her… in fact, I think such a notion would upset Amy.” Both Sam and Cullen gave him looks of confusion. “Amy doesn’t like the idea of servants.”

“Exactly how much is going on around here that we don’t know about?” Sam mused absently. Cullen half scoffed in response.

“The two of you have an acute focus. Commander, your focus is on this army, and rightfully so. Samuel, you have been doing everything you can to keep the words of your inner circle in the forefront of your mind. This allows certain smaller things to slip through the cracks.”

“You don’t say.” Cullen half grumbled.

Solas eyed the both of them carefully before continuing. “Perhaps… the two of you have been working strenuously for too long.” he mulled over his thoughts, rotating a single idea in his mind before a smirk signaled his decision. “You might consider taking a break for your midday meal. The tavern is quite welcoming, and very sparsely occupied before evening. I believe you’ll find the experience a welcome change.”

Sam couldn’t help grinning as he eyed Solas with no small amount of suspicion. “What are you plotting, Solas?”

Solas worked to hide his sly expression. Barely well enough, as it was only reflected in his tone. “Only helping you to learn more without having to hear about it in another ‘report’.” Solas said. “If that will be all, I am expected to help Adan.” with that Solas left, not waiting to see what the two would do with his advice.

Sam watched him go with an abrupt chuckle. “Well? Shall we?”

“What?” Cullen asked. “Take lunch in the tavern?” He squinted at the seemingly endless rows of men under his command. “For what purpose?”

“Solas wouldn’t have said anything if there wasn’t something of significant worth to be gained.” Sam argued.

“Do they even have food at the tavern?” Cullen countered. “I assumed there was only drinking to be had there.”

“So we get food and go there with it. Why bother struggling over this when you want to go there as much as I do?”

Cullen’s gaze snapped to Sam. “What makes you assume that?”

“Oh, go on.” Sam grumbled, his head tossing back as he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “You’re just as curious as I am about it.”

“Curiosity from one of Solas’s vague statements isn’t always indicative of a reward of any value.”

“Stop being obstinate for five seconds, and admit that having a meal away from muster wouldn’t be horrible.” Sam grumbled.

Cullen sighed heavily. “That much is true.”

“Now, why exactly would the tavern be such a bad idea?” Sam asked.

Cullen considered the question before finally admitting. “Perhaps it’s just that the notion came from Solas. The man isn’t known for being forthright, and while I’ve no real evidence against him… I don’t entirely trust him.”

Sam snorted out a laugh. “Of course you don’t. He’s squirrelly.” Sam took a deep breath. “Well… with or without you, I’m having lunch in the tavern. It’ll be nice to figure something out without reading about it in a report.”

Cullen seemed to consider that before he nodded. “Yes… I suppose that is a small pay off.”

Sam paused for a second. “So...you’re coming with?” Cullen sighed again, and Sam half glared at him. “Hey, don’t make this sound like such a chore.”

“What’s a chore?” The two of them glanced over to see Ser Wystan approaching them from the direction of the field.

"Taking lunch in the tavern.” Sam offered.

Wystan’s eyebrows rose a touch. “A change of scenery wouldn’t kill you, Commander.”

Cullen chortled. “Really? Whatever happened to ‘this field requires absolute focus’?”

“After all that’s happened?” Wystan grumbled. “I think every man on this field understands the severity of their offices.”

“Care to join us?” Sam asked, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Evidently this venture has something to do with Amy.” He added as incentive.

Wystan blinked, a strange mixture of hope and gravity settling on his features. “It has been a while since I heard anything about our little lady.”

“‘Our little lady’?” Cullen asked, drifting to follow Sam as he made his way to the mess hall.

Wystan smirked. “It’s ironic, I know… but the men have been calling her that for a while. It’s not untrue...she is a tiny thing.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “Tiny but mighty.” he shook his head. “That should be our slogan for the Inquisition.” Even Cullen laughed at that.

The mess hall was longer than most of the buildings in Haven, but held very few luxuries… if one could call thing like beds and fireplaces a luxury. In southern Ferelden, fireplaces were necessary for life. All the mess hall had was a large stove in the far corner, which the servants used to keep large portions of food hot. There were tables and chairs aplenty, and most were full with the men that were either off-shift or soon to receive new orders for the coming week.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to take their lunch elsewhere… Especially those of higher office. So no one seemed overly bothered that the three moved through the building without pausing to consider the tables.

The tavern was a completely different matter. Sam, with all of the aplomb of an ogre, kicked the tavern door open. Both Cullen and Wystan winced slightly at this, but they found another focus right away.

“Well, well, well.” Sam murmured with heavy suspicion in his voice.

There was a beat of silence as the three men entered the tavern and let their eyes adjust to the change of light.

At the head of the table, Amy sat. Magpie was on her right and Varric was on her left. Krem sat beside Magpie, and Bull sat on the other side of Krem. Sera was across the room, sitting on top of the opposite table.

“Hiiiii!” Amy half sang out, waving at them.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Magpie mused, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What?” Wystan snapped. “It’s not a bad thing for a man to take a break away from the field.”

“Mm-hm!” Amy hummed in agreement. “Sit.” she offered, motioning to their table.

Sam sat at the opposite end of the table from Amy, and Wystan sat on his right, with Cullen taking the space at Sam’s left and directly beside Bull.

“It feels weird to be eating here while you guys are just...here...without food.” Sam murmured, giving his bowl an almost guilty glance.

“Bax.” Amy chirped, smiling as if that were an explanation enough.

“Bax is getting food for us…” Magpie murmured. She gave Amy a half glance before continuing. “I mean, I was going to, but Amy insisted.” Amy only nodded, her eyes closed, a strange look of satisfaction on her face.

“And we ate already.” Krem said waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “We just show up here to see Amy.”

“So…” Sam murmured, trying to pretend he was interested in his food more so than the company. “You...come here often?”

Amy chuckled at that, because it sounded like a cheesy pick-up line. This behavior made those around her stare at her in obvious curiosity, but she just shook her head.

“Late-ly.” Amy said, sliding a look to Magpie. “Two? Two days?” Magpie nodded, confirming that this practice was only two days old.

“You’re looking better than we last saw you at least.” Wystan murmured, and while Amy would never describe him as ‘soft’ or ‘warm’ his expression had softened and he did seem warmer. “A lot less Tiger and a lot more Lady, it seems. But better.” He said with a grin.

“Huh?” Bull grunted.

“Ah, it’s just something she said ages ago. Never made any sense to me.” Wystan grumbled.

“Is suh-pose t’be.. The Lady or the Tiger.” Amy said with a grin. “But, I said ‘I am the Lady and the Tiger’.”

“...ok…” Varric allowed before finalizing. “But what is it?”

Amy let out a soft chuckle. “Story.”

“Ooh.” Varric practically purred.

“Oh-oh-oh!” Magpie practically vibrated in her seat. “Is it anything like that moon girl in the sailor suit you told me about?” she asked, lacing her fingers together to cradle her chin.

Amy chuckled softly, shaking her head.“‘Bout a king...he is… a good king, but quite mad. He has a thing… some-times, let’s fate judge people.” She explained. “Has an aaah-reena. Two doors. Unmarked. Behind one, a be-you-tiful woman. Other, vicious tiger.”

“Whoa…” Bull lowed. “That’s… really twisted.”

“Ha!” Sam barked. “I get it. You’re the lady and the tiger, the trial of fate.”

The table shook as Bull smacked it with a single open hand. “That’s it! You are a tiger?”

“...what’s a tiger?” Magpie grumbled.

“It’s a big cat.”

Amy half snorted. “Like a puma.” she said in a droning voice. Magpie gave her a comically ‘upset’ look, her eyes wide and her mouth drawn into a flat line.

“Uh..more like a lion… well, bigger than a lion sometimes.” Bull supplied, utterly missing the joke because he’d never seen Red vs Blue… He would love Red vs Blue. “Had them back in the wilder parts of the jungles of Par Vollen.” He shook his head, as if to shake away a rueful memory. “They’re solitary cats, so I guess a Puma isn’t too far off…now that I think about it.” he shrugged. “But really, they’re bigger than lions and meaner too. They’re all orange with black stripes, and white paws and bellies.”

“Bad es’perience?” Amy asked.

“Well, I mean… there was this one time we saw a tiger cub, right?” He shook his head, his eye widening almost comically. “And we’re looking at it all like, ‘oh hey, look it looks so fluffy and cute!’” He sat up straighter. “No.”

“Mama?” Amy asked, wincing slightly.

He nodded. “Those things are so fierce, but they still look so awesome.” Bull said enthusiastically, not forgetting his fear from the encounter, but choosing to highlight the similarities to Amy. “You’re a lot like that. You look like you should be all cuddly...and...well, I mean, you can be and all, but…” He shook his head. “When it’s time to fight, you’re all prowl and deadly focus. Like,” he turned to face the opposite end of the table. “She literally hunkers down and you think, ‘well this is it. This is how I go.’ as she’s getting ready to pounce.” He turned back to Amy. “Did you just master acrobatic gladiatorial combat wherever you're from?” Bull said, eyeing her suspiciously. Amy just blinked at him, shaking her head as if he were completely insane.

“I think your account of this fight of yours may be dominating your opinion…” Wystan murmured.

“I was there too, and I have to say…” Krem shook his head. “It was…” he thumped the table with two quick strikes. “Bam-bam, two hits. Done.”

“She scrambled my brains.” Bull grumbled.

“She’s right here.” Amy grumbled back.

The door to the tavern opened, Solas stood, holding the door open for Bax. He was handling three plates of food.

"What happened to heling Adan?" Sam asked Solas suspiciously.

"It's time for taking the mid-day meal." Solas glossed over the answer, wafting into his usual corner.

"Uh-huh..."Sam grunted, still eyeing the elf with undisguised doubts.

“Sorry it took so long.” Bax apologized, setting on plate in front of Amy and the other in front of Magpie. Then he sat on the other side of Varric with his own plate. “What were you talking about?”

Amy smirked. “Crouching tiger, hidden Dragon.”

“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds awesome.” Bull said with such gravity, Amy almost missed the humor in the statement.

“What… what is that?” Magpie asked.

“‘Nother story.” Amy explained.

“You like stories, huh, Charmer?” Varric asked with a smirk.

Amy nodded, because really the only common thread that tied her interests together was that each shared an immersive narrative.

“You know…” Varric drug out the sentence, as if he were actually thinking over what he was about to say, when it was apparent that he knew full and well what was up his own sleeves. “I could procure a copy of some choice literature for you…..” he offered, before offhandedly adding. “...if you’d like.”

Amy’s face transformed, her eyes widening and her mouth gaping in a joyous smile… only to fall into a resigned pout. “No use.” she said with a tired shrug. She had never been one to play with her food, and that wasn’t going to happen here either.

“What?” Varric asked. “You don’t think you’ll have the time to read? You are, kind of indisposed at the moment, Charmer.”

Amy shook her head before finally revealing. “Can’t read.” she said, slipping even further into a pout.

There were the confounded looks, the wide eyed and aghast expressions. And then, the sound of silence before,

“WHAT?!”

Sam winced, gripping his nearly empty plate as if to protect it from brigands. “Fuck! Sera….” he took a deep breath to settle himself. “I forgot you were even here.”

Sera huffed, before actually standing on the table. “Alright, first off.” She pointed to Sam. “Rude! And second,” She looked to Amy. “Whatcha mean, you can’t read? How’n all fuck can you not read! You can do fancy-pants numbers shite!”

“Can! Was taught...” Amy looked away and shrugged. “... but...can’t read your lang-wichs.”

It had been something that smarted so often, she had purposefully cast it from her mind. She had been monumentally grateful that the spoken languages of Thedas held true from the game… unfortunately, that held true to the writing as well. All the documents and signs here were also similar to those in the game…so there was no way to read them…. She’d tried, but it was impossible without a guide.

And now there was a room full of people she loved and admired, and all of them were gaping at her like she was some sort of mutant… then again, maybe she was.

“I’ll admit, that is….bizarre...but, we know that you are not from… here.” Solas said carefully, and Bull seemed to tense up. It wasn’t overly obvious, he just abandoned his slouch for sitting up straight.

“We’ll just have to teach you.” Bax said, as if he were telling her she’d need a scarf because it was cold out. It was so obvious when he said it like that.

“Yeah!” Magpie crowed, suddenly excited. “You know, reading common isn’t my strong suit, so lessons wouldn’t hurt me either.”

Magpie’s enthusiasm seeped into Amy, brightening her mood significantly.

“Sooo..” Sera half-sang as she slid back into a seated position atop her table. “You can write and read...just not in any language we know…?” Her face scrunched up. “Howz’at any good for anybody anyways?”

Amy winced at the use of the word ‘anyways’. She hated that word. Almost as bad as the word ‘fleek’...unless you were using it ironically, of course.

“I would be interested in this written language.” Solas murmured in an offhanded manner, as if it were a passing thought.

“As would I.” Bax said with a smile.

“Me too, me too!” Magpie cheered.

“May be later.” Amy said, pushing her empty plate away.

“Wow...you really know how to polish off your food.” Krem murmured. “It must be good to eat decent food.”

Wystan blinked. “What now?”

Krem hoisted an elbow onto a table, leaning his hand into his hand. “She’s been eating servants rations since she got here.” he said simply.

Sam blinked at that. “Wait….what?”

“Why?” Cullen’s voice seemed to slice through all other noise in the tavern. He sounded so indignant, it was almost comical. At least it would be if Amy was anything other than slightly offended.

“Servant.” She said, pointing to herself.

“She...has a point.” Bull grunted.

“If is so o-fence-ive...then...May be.. Should try feeding servants better.” Amy grumbled, her nose ticking upward.

Ah, there was the guilt.

“Yeah!” Sera chirped. “Suck it!”

And now the moment was bisected by slight resentment. More resentment of Sera than anything though.

Luckily, the mood is reset entirely as a soldier bursts into the tavern. “M’lords! There are strangers who—”

“We can speak for ourselves, thanks.”

Her voice was a seduction. It was infused with a strange dominating energy that slithered around your ears and beckoned you close.

She had the same color skin as Magpie, but her hair was dark brown instead of black. Behind her lurked a larger figure. A male elf that looked similar enough to her, but...well..obviously masculine. Her eyes were more turquoise, but his were the greens of copper patina. He was a solid silent sentry, unyielding and unbowed, whereas she was a softer sort of strength... all slinky and wiley. They both had very subtle vallaslin. The man’s was the mark of June and the woman’s bore the subtle mark of Andruil.

Her face transformed from the resentful boredom of only a second before, lighting in utter joy as her eyes landed on Magpie. “Athi!” She whooped, and Magpie sprung up, somehow using the table to leap over Krem and wrap her arms around this new stranger.

The two of them spun haphazardly, until the man caught them both against his torso before they could fall over. He embraced both women to himself, burying his face against the crown of Magpie’s head. Amy heard the man inhale sharply, and was caught by how intimate the scene felt.

“Magpie?” Amy called. “Friends?”

“Magpie?” The girl squawked, drawing back and staring at Magpie in confused horror. “Really?”

The man shrugged, unperturbed. “It suits well enough.” He droned, his voice deeper than Amy had expected. She could feel it in her pelvis all the way across the room.

Magpie grinned like a villain. “Everyone, these are the Tues.” She said. “Tunan.” She said as she leaned fully back against the man. He slung an arm around her waist casually. “And his sister, Tunen.” she continued before motioning to the woman. Tunen grabbed her wrist and nuzzled her nose against it. Magpie actually giggled at the interaction, before drawing her wrist back and motioning to the room. “This is Sera, Sam, Cullen, Bull, Krem, Amy, Varric, Bax, Wystan, and Solas.” she said pointing to each person in turn.

Sera seemed to visibly droop at the sight of these newcomers, looking away as though she couldn’t possibly be more bored. Everyone else seemed to be cycling through regular emotions that newcomers usually produced: surprise, curiosity, vague interest, etc.

Amy stood, moving slowly out of habit at this point.

Magpie blinked, looking at her as if only just recognizing her. “Oh… oh, I need to—”

“Show yur friends Haven.” Amy supplied as she made her way to the other side of the table and laid a hand on Cullen’s shoulder. “C'mander? Lend me... your arm?”

Perhaps it was being raised in the Order and being chastised against wasting time, or perhaps it was simply that he had talked the least of everyone at the table, but he was the only one with a completely clean plate.

“Of course.” He said, rising almost automatically. At this point, he was only grateful that she was being so gracious.

“But… I mean, Bax could—”

“Bax?” Amy blinked rapidly.

“I could what now?” Bax looked between Magpie and Amy.

“Well, I was going to have you stay with us.” Magpie announced.

Bax’s eyes widened. “Magpie, you know I’d love to, but… I don’t think I can make that sort of decision.”

Amy’s face hardened slightly, but Sam stood up quickly. “I’ll figure it out.” He shrugged. “I mean, I’ve no idea who’s supposed to be in charge of that either. But, if you’re willing to stay and help Adan for the afternoon, I’m sure I can find someone to agree to it.” He said as if that were a simple process. “Really, it’s all about getting everyone to agree that it’s a good idea… since… there seems to be no one in charge of that.”

Bax nodded with an eager smile. “It’s better than standing in the tent and hoping nothing happens even though you’re bored out of your mind.”

He probably had no idea how uncomfortable that sentiment made both Cullen and Amy...though, they were uneasy over separate issues.

“It’ll be something useful to do till it’s time for the Remedy.” Bax murmured.

Amy’s eyes sharpened. “Remedy?”

Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Everyone except Bax. “Well..yeah. We’re serving it…today.” His voice trailed off when he sensed the strained mood around him.

Everyone except Bax. “Well..yeah. We’re serving it…today.” His voice trailed off when he sensed the strained mood around him.

But Amy only smiled. “That’s...good.” She said with a nod. Bax’s eyes widened fractionally as realization dawned. Amy hadn’t been told...he had just assumed that she knew.

“Shall we?” Cullen said, offering his arm. Amy nodded, and Cullen couldn’t help but be struck by how small and delicate she seemed as she laced her arm under his, her hand resting over the inside of his forearm.

They walked at a slow pace. Cullen would hate to admit how long it took him to work up the courage to speak.

“I’m… glad to see you looking so well.” He said. Amy looked up at him with an obvious question in her eyes. “You were not very well when I last saw you… I hope you have no resentment towards the soldiers..”

Amy took a deep breath, closing her eyes and leaning on him a little more heavily than she had before. He paused, to let her collect herself. “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies.” She replied. She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”

Cullen stared at her, more than a little dumbfounded. “How do you do that?” he shook himself out of the trance. “Just… manage to say something so profound.”

“Not my words.” Amy explained. “Link-on’s words.”

“Who?”

“Abraham. Lincoln.” she said carefully. “Long dead leader.”

It seemed to take forever for them to reach her little hut, but they did at last. Cullen was struck again by how simple it was.

“In any case, I’m relieved to know you aren’t angry.”

“Oooh.” Amy murmured, sounding bright and cheerful. He was struck by how bright her smile seemed. “I’m fuuuuu-ree-yus.” she said gleefully. He felt himself draw back, his eyebrows high… how could someone look so friendly and feel so fearsome?

“You...are?”

“Mm-hm.” She agreed, nodding with a stern look on her face. “But. Cannot say I suh-port in-kwa-zis-shun, if I only do it while you make the de-cis-yons that I like.”

“..You are exhibiting remarkable restraint in all of this.”

Amy glanced over at him. “In dulge me?”

He nodded and she motioned to herself. “I am the one thing in life I can control.” She said, motioning to herself with both hands resting against her chest. “I am inimitable. I am an original.” She shook her head. “I’m not falling behind or running late.” She paused, making severe eye contact with him to fully relay her point. “I’m not standing still. I am lying in wait.”

Cullen straightened at that proclamation. “Samuel faces an endless uphill climb. He has something to prove, he has so much to lose.” She continued reciting in spite of his panic. “Samuel’s pace is relentless, he wastes no time…. What is it like in his shoes?” she seemed to drift away then, ambling towards the bed. “Samuel doesn’t hesitate. He exhibits no restraint. He takes, and he takes, and he takes, and he keeps winning anyway.” She smiled, somehow managing to look weary and sad and nostalgic all at once. “He changes the game. He plays and he raises the stakes. And if there’s a reason he seems to thrive when so few survive, then goddammit, I’m willing to wait for it.”

Cullen blinked, shaking himself out of a trance. That’s what it almost felt like… but a willing captivation. The only reason it didn’t bother him being that he had actually experienced magic that compelled and ensorcelled… whatever magic Amy did possess, he knew it wasn’t that. It felt completely different.

“So...you’re biding your time.” Cullen murmured, with a smirk. “I sense that those words were perhaps lyrics.” he said, though it wasn’t at all accusatory. In fact, his tone seemed more like what one conspirator confiding in another. She smiled, finally sitting upon the bed. “I wouldn’t have told on you if you’d wanted to sing.” he admitted. He also wouldn't have minded hearing her sing again, but that went without saying.

She seemed to visibly wilt at his words. It was then that Cullen realized Magpie’s grievances over Solas’s restrictions. The entire time he had seen her, she had been stalwart… But now, as she denied herself the ability to sing, she looked despondent and frail.

“No.” She very nearly whimpered, looking utterly dismal. “Solas says no.” she took a heavy breath and then seemed to rally. “Cullen?”

“Hm?”

“Treb you shays?”

He blinked at her, realizing that she was changing the subject purposefully while being baffled by how she could focus on something he hadn’t told her about.

“Ah...right. I don’t always need to tell you these things… do I?” she smiled, and he cleared his throat. “Yes. The trebuchets are on their way. Slow moving as they are, they shouldn’t take too long to reach us.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Will need.”

Cullen allowed himself a moment to feel smug about demanding trebuchets and winning the arguments needed to get them…. Then he felt a touch worried.

“But… Till is un-ah-void-able, I will ah-dapt.” Amy nodded. “Become...better.”

Cullen absorbed this. “Unavoidable?”

“Hard. But. Will res-train un-till that time.”

“What time?” Cullen asked, getting a little frustrated with her evasiveness.

She half glared at him. “I am the daughter...of Patrick and Bridget McManus.” she very nearly growled. “I fight my battles as needed.”

“You haven’t answered anything.” Cullen pointed out, not deterred by her bluster.

“Argh.” She grunted at him. “Pick your battles. You don’t have to show up for every argument you're invited to.” she quoted. “There'll be battles… No ‘lusions there.” she stood again, approached him. “I ...in-tend. To fight when I must. I under-stand...con-see-qwen-ses. So. You just have ta decide… if that...is a fight...you wanna pick, with me.”

Cullen knew his nostrils were flaring as he took a deep breath. It wasn’t a threat...but… it was definitely a declaration that she was not and would not be caged. He instantly winced at his own mental image, and had to remind himself that they had done no such thing. They only worked to protect her better.

She had essentially told him that he could not mistake her compliance for passivity. She was just picking her battles. While she wouldn’t challenge their decision out-right, that would not deter her from doing what she thought was necessary.

“Amy…”He said carefully. “The field is not safe.”

“Cullen.” she replied. “The world z’not safe.” she spat the word ‘safe’ as though it were distasteful.

She stepped into his space and stared up at him—mostly because she had to. He was taller than her. Their positions did little to deter her, and it was here that he saw the barely contained fury peeking through that controlled facade.

Cullen felt lead settle in his gut. He knew Amy to be remarkably resourceful and surprisingly capable… if she did intend to fight him on something, it’d be a hard fight to win.

“My decisions stand.” He growled, crossing his arms over his chest. A way to draw away without sacrificing any dominance.

“Would not pre-zume other wise.” Amy murmured, mimicking his gesture with perhaps a little more slink than he had used.... He wondered if he looked half as uncaring as she did. ...there was no way he'd shimmied his shoulders as she had, though. No way.

Cullen sighed. “Then we are at an impasse.”

Amy nodded. “But...we under-stand.”

“Oh, we do.”Cullen grumbled. “The underlying threats have not going unnoticed.”

“Is not threat.” Amy snapped, suddenly very tired of the conversation. “I do not...ap-ris-shi-ate you thin-king I am ...frah-gile.”

Cullen’s face dropped in aghast shock. “No one’s saying you are!”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Could not even...tell me ‘bout Remedy.” she reminded. “And you.” she jabbed his chest with a finger. “Can't even...look at my face, un-less I chal-enge you.” Cullen felt himself wilt just a touch, because those accusations weren’t untrue. “Am not made of ...glass.”

“No one told you because we were all worried that this would happen.” Cullen argued, stepping into her space. “Storming the field won’t end well for anyone, much less you.”

Amy recoiled, staring at him in shock. “...said any-thing ‘bout ‘stormin tha field’??” They stared at one another, each pulling up short as they re-evaluated what had been said. “You’ve made it vehry clear.” Amy grumbled. “Don’t need’r want me there.”

“I’ve done no such—”

“S’fine.” little more than a single word, yet her voice was like a whip-crack echoing through the room... and Cullen suddenly remembered how much he hated that word when voiced by a woman. “Decis-yonz made, and I ah-bide.” she said it in a tone that conveyed that complying with the decision and enjoying the decision had nothing to with each other.

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

“B’cauz. I will make choi-ces. They will be moar con-ek-ted to con-shance than yur de-ciss-yons.”

Cullen blinked at that, removing the fear of her storming the field from his mind and focusing on her words.

“...ah.” he took a deep breath. “If you happen to be lead to the field, it will be because some need has called you there...not because you’re being belligerent.”

Amy nodded, her face still set in annoyance. She gave him a very tired glare. “Thought y’had a fight on yur hands?” Cullen looked away with a heavy sigh. “Why you always thinkin’ I’ma fight you?” her aggravation was momentarily pierced by something that could be concern, though Cullen wasn’t quite sure what she was concerned about.

“I don’t…” Cullen shook his head. “I don’t know... The likelihood of you staying away from the field is...foreign.”

Amy nodded. “Was com-fort.” she murmured. “But...time to grow.”

Cullen half scoffed. “There other places you plan on taking over?”

Before Amy could answer, there was a knock at the door. “Amy? It’s Jas.”

“Jas?” Culen queried, though it was more directed towards Amy.

“M’in.” Amy called.

‘Jas’ was one of the elves that served directly under Mother Giselle in the chantry. He was a scruffy haired city elf, that ended up being a runner between the kitchen, laundry, and Thren. Amy would have described him as gangly and underfed (which, she’d come to learn, was normal for city elves as opposed to well-kept elven servants), but eager to learn and equally eager to please.

“Ah..Sorry.” He said, actually ducking his head and bowing in on himself a bit. “Didn’t know you had company.”

“C’mander saw me here.”

“I see… well, uh, Mother GIselle has requested you set aside some time to speak with her.” He held up a hand, rushing to continued, “At your nearest convenience, of course. Madame Vivienne mentioned wanting to speak to you as well…” he said hastily, then paused, his dark eyes drifting sideways. “Though...she didn’t say that to me, so much as she said it around me.. “ he squinted contemplatively. “Or maybe at me…” His eyes suddenly widened. “I don’t really know if I was meant to tell you that part.”

Amy nodded, with as soft a smile as she could manage given her mood. “Be there n’a min.” He nodded, looking relieved. “Mythal’enaste.”

He hovered in the doorway, looking heavenward before blurting out, “Oh! Uh… Dareth shiral!”

“Yes!” she clapped in celebration of him selecting a decent elven sentence.

He pumped his fist before scampering away.

Cullen blinked, looking between them through this exchange before settling a confused gaze on Amy. “I didn’t know you spoke elvish…”

“No one does. 'Sept Solas. I know...very little.” She motioned towards the doorway with her chin. “Jas’z in’tres-ted. I share.” she took a deep breath, still eying the door. “Shud go.” She murmured.

“I could walk with you.” Cullen offered.

Amy half smirked. “Best not. So much werk ta’do.

“I suppose you’re right..” He acknowledged, albeit grudgingly.

The two of them passed through the doorway, one after the other, before hovering awkwardly just outside.

Cullen wasn’t quite sure what he should do. Normally, he’d just return to the field, but...he wasn’t sue that anything had been entirely resolved between them. There were still more questions than answers, and while Amy seemed compliant she wasn’t content. Part of him assumed he should... fix it? Think about fixing it? Something?

Another part of him—the soldier that couldn’t stand to have his flank exposed, no doubt—wanted to remain...to observe her and make sure she was a certainty and not volatile… Which, was unreasonable. She obviously wasn’t behaving irrationally. In fact, her decisions and thought processes (if a little scattered) were utterly logical. This didn’t eradicate the notion of her as a threatening possibility. Still...it felt...unfinished.

“Don’t wurry, C’mander.” Amy placated. “Won’t brawl n'tha Chantry.” she said this as she walked away from him, slowly making her way towards the Chantry.

He watched her back as she moved… stiff, but straight. Resolute. Her shoulders back, her eyes forward. She took the stairs one at a time, not rushing herself. He was so preoccupied studying her posture, he missed any opportunity to respond or call out a farwell….

Still feeling a heavy sense of restlessness, he shook his head and returned to the field.

She was right about one thing. There was still much work to be done.

*sips coffee* anyone wanna place bets on how this faux cold war will go? I'm sure I can get Varric on the books with some opinion....nah, it's probably nothing.

#ILIC #It's Lost Its Charm #Dragon Age #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #DAFF #DAFF It's Lost Its Charm #Amy McManus #Cullen Rutherford #Samuel Trevelyan #Magpie #Solas #Sera #The Iron Bull #Krem #Varric Tethras #Ser Wystan #Baxtien

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