#AND. AND. Solas knew she was looking for him! He knew! WHERE'S THE CHILD SUPPORT DUDE‚ HUH. WHERE IS IT. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mydrug-is-dragonage · 4 years ago

Text

Veda Adaar, A Letter from Home

The balcony off my room had great light in the morning. The sun shining through the clouds, the crisp mountain air, spring properly arrived and ready to melt into summer. My belly swelled, slowly but surely. No kicks or stirring, a growing bump where they said a child would be. I hid myself in long, flowing robes and oversized tunics. I spent most my days here, staring out the window, feeling the sun on my skin. I wondered if this was the feeling my parents missed, living in this cold land so far from their home. I sighed and looked out at the mountains, so calm with the wars ceased. The sky still bore the thin green scar.

The week after the healer confirmed the child, Lace came into my room with tea. “Hey, V.” I nodded and waved her in. She handed me the cup and we settled onto the sofa. The fire crackled, I pulled my robe closer around me and placed both hands on the warm cup. “I haven’t written the Divine yet,” she said.

“You haven’t written or you haven’t sent it?” I asked.

“Sent. I’ve written a draft,” she said.

“Do we have to send it now?”

“No,” she paused. Her eyes stared at the burning logs. “We will have to tell her soon, though.”

“I suppose we can get it over with. Not like it’ll get any easier,” I sighed. I took a sip of my tea. My hands stayed on the cup, the warmth passing through my palms.

“She’ll make it easier to keep this quiet, if that’s still what you want to do,” she said.

I swallowed and stared out, the sun setting, the chill of the mountains taking over. “I want to keep it quiet. I’ll tell a few friends, in time, but for now it needs to stay with only those we trust the most.”

She nodded. “Have you written your mother yet? We got another two letters from her this week.” I shook my head. “The Divine considers her trustworthy. She hasn’t betrayed any Inquisition secrets thus far.”

“I know,” I said, “I just don’t know how to tell her.” Lace tapped her feet. “Go on, you’ve got a mind full of something.”

“Veda, she loves you. She loved Bull. She’ll be thrilled.” I took another sip of my tea.

“She does love me. She did love Bull. She also loves my father and will certainly tell him,” I said. Lace started to speak, but I interrupted. “Pa never trusted him. He had his reasons, of course.”

“I think he’ll support you more than he hates Bull,” she said.

“You’ve met my father. Do you really believe that?”

“He’s a hardass, but he’s always been bolder in affection than hatred.” I nodded, took another sip of my tea.

“Lace, can you bring me a fresh candle and ink?” She nodded and went to fetch them. I settled into my desk.

Tama,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. Lace tells me she’d get you informed about the immediate developments. I’ll also admit I haven’t read your letters. I’m going to, I keep them in a safe place. I simply haven’t found the time or the gumption. For being so brave, I’m so afraid. I don’t know why. I’ve face dragons and magisters and time travel. I suppose the risk there is death. Dying never seemed as scary.

I remember the stories you told me of when you were a girl. A young apprentice baker, elbows deep in flour. You wanted to be a Tamassaran, raising the children, guiding their growth, comforting their hurts. I suppose it’s the closest thing to motherhood in Par Vollen. They didn’t let you into the priesthood, though. They didn’t let you raise the babies and cuddle them, tend to their wounds. They sent you to a small bakery near the sea. I remember the gull songs you’d sing to me as we wandered along the coastline of the Waking Sea.

Pa never told me the same stories you did. I pieced them together from stories you’d told me. Pa, part of the antaam, stopping by your bakery for bread in the morning. Pa, the good soldier, making jokes as you packed his rations You, the naughty the baker, sneaking him sweetened bread, baked with too much sugar. His hands lingering on yours too long in front of the baker. You two sitting on beach, the sea lapping the shore, your hands finding their way to each other’s again. When I got older and understood the Qun, I always wondered how you weren’t quaking with fear. To love, while not forbidden, was certainly not allowed like this.

When you fled, were you afraid? Crossing through Seheron and Tevinter, Pa joining mercenary companies to gain passage, did you regret it? Did you miss the calm of the bakery, the friends you left behind? Was he worth it? Was I worth it? Were you afraid?

I remember when you sent me off with my first company, an apprentice myself, unsure of the power in my fingertips. I remember Pa standing, arm around you. You held back your tears, but I saw your eyes well up, so afraid for your only child, your only daughter. You wanted more for me than mercenary companies, killing for my dinner. You sang from the Chant of Light, you warned me of magic, yet it came to me anyway, taking me away from you. The first letter I got from you started and ended with, “May the Maker guide you.”

He guided me through mountains and valleys, along the seas. I’d seen the Free Marches, Nevarra, Orlais, the South Western corner of the Anderfels, all while learning to protect myself from demons, manipulate the fade to bend to my very will. The best, of course, was when I’d come home, a year older, a head taller, hardly the child you’d sent away, still so far from real womanhood. You fussed over me so, made goat pies, asked about the places I’d been and the joy I’d found. When you went to bed, Pa and I sat outside, looking towards the sky, the moon so full and hungry. He took a sip of the wine you’d opened, offered me my first glass. He put his arm around me and pointed out constellations. He said something softly, the sounds still ringing in my ears, “We wanted better for you. We wanted safer for you.”

The first time you visited Skyhold, we’d stopped the demon army, but we hadn’t yet gone to Halamshiral to save the empress. You wore a simple cotton dress, you hair braided down your back. Pa put on his nice shirt, his horn caps. You looked so nervous around the nobility. They didn’t know what to make of you. The deafening whispers, everyone so curious about the new Qunari amongst the Inquisition. I heard you sing from some Canticle as you walked towards the throne, up towards my room.

I was scared then, too, my mission unfinished, the Magister still on the loose. When we got to my room you gave me the biggest hug. “My little girl has gone on to be something so much bigger!” You beamed, your own daughter the Herald of Andraste. Pa hugged me too. While I was pressed against him he whispered, “I’m happy you’re safe, for now.” Pa pulled away and glanced at my neck.

The dragon’s tooth was heavy. It rested against my skin, cool and smooth. He didn’t say anything, eyes stuck on the tooth. Your eyes were stuck on me, until Pa’s hand reached your back. Your gaze went where his rested. I can hear your voice now, the surpise and curiosity, “Veda, is that….” your voice trailed off, so Pa, forever your rock, finished for you, “A necklace of the Kadan.” He didn’t share your curiosity.

I said yes. No use in lying to you. I felt my heartbeat in my ears. Your eyes widened when you asked me, “Do you have a Kadan?” I nodded, so unsure and afraid. Not of my love. I knew I loved Bull. I hoped he loved me, but the two of you, seeing me in love with a man closer to your age than mine, a Ben Hassrath agent no less. You two joined me in Herald’s Rest, we found a small table in the corner upstairs. Pa drank a full ale before Bull came to join us. It was awkward, so painfully awkward. When Pa excused himself, I wanted to be sick when Bull said he’d take a walk with him. The men gone, us alone at the table. “He’s,” you thought so carefully about your words, “a lot of man.” I laughed and agreed. You asked if he made me happy.

He did. He made me so happy. He made me happy for years. He made me happy dancing at Halamshiral, he made me happy fighting dragons, he made happy in taverns and campsites, in castles and caves. He held my hand in carriages, he held me in cold storms. He took blows meant for me, he killed foes sent to strike me down. I saw the whole future, I saw the danger you and Pa had lived through. I knew we’d have troubles. I knew he’d be called away from me, but he was mine and he made me so happy, Tama. I couldn’t have loved him more.

I assume you know now what he did. Pa was right. Pa, despite walking with Bull, pulled me into a great big hug before he left. Again, he whispered in my ear, “He’ll never love you more than the Qun.” I shrugged him off. What did Pa know? He didn’t know Bull. He didn’t know me or our circumstances. I thought myself so grown then, barely nineteen, but the most powerful woman in the world. I loved Bull. Bull loved me. I was so sure Bull loved me.

I don’t know if love persists once we return to the Maker’s side. I don’t know if he even gets to return to the Maker. I don’t know what the Qun says happens we die. He obeyed the Qun. He did what the Qun demanded. If there is satisfaction to be had there, he’s earned it. At the cost of himself, at the cost of our love, at the cost of my dignity.

It’s been scarcely two months, his body left to rot near that dragon’s prison. I saw my love struck down before me. Cassandra delivered the killing blow, saving me the anguish of having to kill him myself. He’s dead, Tama. He’s gone. He’s gone forever and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to accept that he loved me and still did this. I don’t know how to accept that he never loved me and felt no guilt. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

It’s been two months, I’m in Skyhold with Lace and the few others who stayed behind to serve what was the Inquisition. I’m no longer the Inquisitor, I’m no longer a fearsome fighter. I’m no longer someone’s Kadan. I’m just Veda. I’m just Veda and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ll try to help stop Solas, but I won’t lead the charge. I can’t, not anymore. I’m going to be a glorified advisor, one-armed and tired. All that is so hard to write. Forgive the smudges. I’ve finally cried without violence and I don’t know how to accept any of this, but I do have something I have to tell you.

I’m no longer the Inquisitor, a Valo-Kas mercenary, a Knight Enchanter. But I’m still your daughter, and I’m going to be a mother.

Love,

Veda

Lace sent the raven to my mother, I sat down and finally read her letters, her usual, motherly concern filling each page. Father was doing well, a goat had twin kids. When she’d found out about Bull, the letter was longer. Words about love and loss, the way pain settles in our chest, proving our love mattered at all. Beautiful words, frustrating as they were comforting. I heard her and Thom ringing in my ears. I lounged on the sofa, my hands resting at my side, sometimes settling on the top of it. My stomach was warm and tight. Sometimes my fingers would wander towards my stomach, but I’d pull them away. The child would have to be acknowledged eventually. I would have to care for the child, provide for its needs. But I didn’t have to love it, caress its home. Not yet, not now.

Two weeks passed, visitors came and went, spring got brighter, the documents and plans seemed more convoluted. A sunny afternoon, Lace came to my room with two letters. “I thought you’d want this as soon as possible,” she said. I opened the first, smelled the pages. The light scent of lavender and smoke, the oils mother loved and the constant cooking.

Sweetling,

Asit tal-eb. It is to be. Maraas Kata. Nothing is ended.

Love,

Tama

I held the letter to my chest, weeping. So few words, yet they struck right into my heart. Asit tal-eb, what mother would say whenever we suffered and lost. One summer, before I’d come into my magic, Pa came home furious. He cursed and threw down his sword. They spoke in quick Qunlat, too fast for me to understand. Pa sat down and put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hand. Tama put her arms around his head, rested her head on his. She whispered, “Asit tal-eb,” over and over, stroking his hair. I put my doll aside, walked up beside them. Pa took an arm off Tama’s waist and pulled me into their embrace. She leaned up, dried her eyes, and squatted down to my height. “We’ve got to go, sweetling,” she said. Her voice calm despite it all.

“But I like it here! They’re not even mean at the Chantry!” I said, full of childlike fury.

“They won’t sell us the land,” Pa said. “So we can’t grow food for ourselves. We can’t raise animals of our own.” He sniffed and stared at the wall. His gaze moved down to me, little girl with little horns still budding. “We will try again. Find a new place we can stay. Asit tal-eb.”

I caught my breath and opened the next letter. Instead of my mother’s gentle writing, a harsher, sturdier hand had written it.

Imekari,

Your mother says you are having a child. This means we will be grandparents. I have never known a grandparent. Like parenthood, it is a concept we’ve stolen from the Bas. Regardless, I will inquire with the man who sells wheat what this entails. I presume we will love this child, just as we love you. The stories I’ve heard, being a grandparent is easier. That brings some joy.

I read the letter you sent your mother. I read it a few times. I lost count after seven. You’re not so wrong with your telling of me. I was in the antaam. I tried to make your mother laugh often. We did hold hands when we shouldn’t have. Due to your existence, you know we fled together, children ourselves. We chose love over duty. We abandoned the Qun.

I never told you of the walk Hissrad and I took the day we met. You were right. It was awkward. I hoped for a moment to compose myself. Perhaps find a man to hit me with a stick. Of course, Hissrad chose to join me. We walked along the battlements for some time. He was quiet, as I was quiet. We reached a corner and overlooked the endless mountains. I asked him about the necklace. Your mother and I had never told you of this. Kadans and necklaces of Kadans were a memory we left behind. It had to be his idea. He kept a blank face. I presume he was a very good Hissrad. After some contemplation, he said (translated for your sake), “I mentioned it off hand. We killed a dragon less than a week later. I thought we were just having fun, but she surprised me. She constantly surprises me.” I asked if he loved you. He said yes. I asked if he loved you as the Qunari he was or the Tal-Vashoth he pretended to be. He said (again, translated for your sake. You need to learn more Qunlat. The child should know Qunlat), “Both. I love her as the friend and companion I’d get to have in Par Vollen. I love her as a Tal-Vashoth would love whomever they chose.” When I asked about the Qun and when he’d be pulled back to Par Vollen, he gave meaningless answers. He’d spent too much time around bas, he’d forgotten how to talk to men like men.

Imekari, I was wrong. He’s dead. He died obeying orders. But, presuming this new imekari—Imekari II? Small imekari? Ari-imekari? I’ll discuss with Tama—was not of your planning, he broke the Qun. He knew how to control his seed. We all grow up knowing, waiting to be called for breeding. He made a choice. He violated the Qun.

He died Tal-Vashoth. I wish he had lived to fulfill that betrayal of the Qun. The child will come. Tama and I will come too, to discuss and guide. For now, I’ve enclosed something that gave me great comfort during our great suffering.

You’re still a Kadan. You’ve always been our Kadan.

Your Father,

Beres

Behind his letter there was another piece of paper. I opened it slowly, the creases deep and discolored. Inside was a drawing, crude, of a little house. Two Qunari stood, both smiling. The drawing was labeled, “This will be our house. This is where the goats will sleep. This is where the goats will chase the chickens. This is where Veda will play. This is where Tama will sing to Veda. This is where Pa will squeeze Veda on days the Maker didn’t bring kindness to school.” A smaller Qunari reached both hands up, a parent grabbing each hand. At the bottom, it said, “Home.”

I read and re-read the letter. When my hand drifted to my belly, I let it rest.

22 notes · View notes

emerald-amidst-gold · 4 years ago

Note

Sorry I know it's a lil late, but if you're still taking oc asks (these ones I mean), maybe 13, 19, 24, 38/39/40, 43, 45, 47, 64, and/or 74/75/76? again, for any OC you'd like

It’s never too late to ask me about my OCs! I could talk about them until the cows come home! X3 Not to mention, this is great since I’m currently working on my next chapter and I needed a little break! So, thank you! ❤️❤️

***

13. How many siblings does your OC and what is his/her relationship with them?

So, the only OCs that have a sibling are Fane and Mhairi. Fane is Mhairi’s brother and Mhairi is Fane’s sister. Fun fact: orginally these two were supposed to be twins when I made them because they looked very similar (Fane had platinum blonde hair like Mhairi and their overall faces had like features). Now, they’re three years apart (Fane is 24 and Mhairi is 21).

As to their relationship, it is 100% wholesome and devotion incarnate. Everything Fane does and has done is for Mhairi, and he takes the role of both a father and a brother for her. It’s one of the few times Fane is actually soft with another person. Mhairi is his whole world until Inquisition, and it makes everything later one even harder for him. *side eyes* Mhairi is in the same boat as Fane because she is highly obsessed with showing him that she can handler herself and that he doesn’t have to keep running himself into the ground to keep her safe and happy. She constantly bakes him his favorite treats, gifts him with raw materials for his weapon crafting, crafts him articles of clothing and trinkets to elicit a single smile to his face. Mhairi just wants him to be happy above all else since she can tell something changed him, but she doesn’t know what. As such, she does become a tad jealous when Fane and Solas’s relationship comes to light, but only because she’s just as protective with him as Fane is with her.

19. What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

I wrote a fic about this actually! It was told from Solas’s POV, but it gave glimpse into how Fane responds to children. Fane adores children and he secretly craves a small family--just one child because he wants to give the love his mother had given him. Gentle, calm, and patient. He just thinks he doesn’t have it in him for that, especially because of what he is. (hint: watch for fics that have the appearance of the baby dragon that Solas and Fane adopt. It’ll be important waaaaay later. *winks*)

Estoria is along the same lines as Fane. She loves, loves, loves children. When she was traveling as a mercenary, the band would occasionally visit smaller cities where there were alienages and Estoria would spend her free time there. She would sing songs to the children, teach them how to do menial, but important tasks like washing clothes or planting crops, and would tell them stories of her time on the road. Deep down inside, she would adore a little girl of her own because she wants desperately to be a mother.

24. Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

So, surprise! Fane doesn’t actually ‘hate’ or ‘dislike’ anyone (other than his father lol). But if we’re talking in terms of the inner circle, again, he doesn’t hate anyone, he just feels indifferent towards them. The only one that he shows any kind of passionate distaste for is Cassandra, but most of that is from a lack of communication on both their parts in the beginning (Fane is not in a good mental state during Haven’s arc due to being framed divinity and the slow realization of what he is making him lash out violently).

Mhairi though...eheheh. She doesn’t like Solas. At all. For a very long time. They butt heads constantly because of elven history, religion, and magical theory, but also because of Mhairi’s main insecurity of being abandoned. She’s worried Solas will take Fane from her and that frightens her beyond belief. *side eyes AGAIN*

38. How does your OC react to and handle stress?

Reacting to stress, Fane either becomes incredibly overwhelmed and irate, or he shuts down completely. He turns into a shell that simply walks through the halls with a dead stare, or he becomes the warped version of what he is--breaking, smashing, and snapping anything in his path. When that happens, in either form, Fane hides away in the more desolate parts of Skyhold where no one can find him (other than Solas or Cole). He’s like a cat, actually. He can see everyone else, but they can’t see him. He’ll do that until he calms down enough to where he isn’t overcome wit the urge to snarl or crack open a noble’s skull.

39. How does your OC handle anger?

Badly. Well, Fane does anyways. Pffft. Mhairi tends to cry when she’s angry, so also badly. Estoria...ohhhh, boy. Watch the thorns because they are laced with poison. All my OCs handle anger badly. That probably says something about me, huh? *curls up in the corner*

40. How does your OC handle grief?

Due to his abuse, Fane rarely cries--he was commanded not to for five years and the fear of doing it lingers. However, when he does cry it’s because of something utterly heart breaking. In fact, every time the group goes to fight a dragon, Fane scurries off at the end of the battle to literally crumble into a heap of snot and tears because it physically hurts him. It’ll be revealed more in my fic as to why, but just know it’s a..bad time. Again, Fane’s go to is to be alone with his emotions until they settle down. It’s a bad habit of his and one that takes a lot of support from Solas, Cyfrin and his sister to work out.

Mhairi is very open with her emotions (her and Fane anathema to each other). So, when their mother passed and their father disappeared, she was inconsolable for months and the feeling of abandonment lingers with her still. Usually, Mhairi just goes to Fane or Cyfrin if she’s feeling lonely or grief stricken and just...cry until she passes out.

43. What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

Fane’s humor is morbid. Cyfrin and he get locked in discussions of dark, dark humor. Such as:

“If you don’t stop commenting about how my eyes will make a ‘lovely’ ballad, I will crack your skull and make a vase. I could use some bright macabre decoration in that dismal aravel, anyways.”

“Do I at least get to be painted in pretty floral patterns and intricate designs of trees? Maybe roses?”

“I’ll make the roses blue. Just for you.”

“Ah-ha! Now we’re talking! A man after my own fluttering, flying heart!”

“I’ll make your heart fly in a minute..”

“A confession?! I knew it would be a joyous day!”

“Just shut up, Cy.”

I’m serious. This is them and I have no shame. *laughs nervously* It’s all empty, though. Cyfrin helps Fane relax a little and never judges him for his darker aspects. If anything, it helps mitigate a potential outburst because Fane can look as it as a joke rather than something that genuinely hurts him. Unless he’s in a really foul mood, then Cyfrin adopts his more caring side to calm Fane down. (I have a lot of thoughts with these two. Just wait. Juuuust wait.)

45. What are some things that annoy your OC?

What doesn’t annoy Fane? 🤣🤣 But specifically, Fane can’t stand when someone is willingly ignorant nor can he stand when they’re filled with disgusting forms of pride.

Estoria is highly annoyed by racial labels. She was taken in by a human, and as such, she got to mingle with a lot of different races throughout her time as mercenary. She got to see those races as people and when organizations like the Chantry and what have you only see race and see it as a bad thing sometimes, she goes off the handle. Estoria doesn’t shy away from being an elf, but she doesn’t believe that’s all she is nor does she believe anyone else is just their physical race.

47. How easily does your OC forgive?

Fane is slow to forgive, even if that person is highly dear to him. However, it does depend on what happened in the first place and there’s a big, big plot point later on in my story that shows a heavily development in this characteristic.

Estoria is an easy forgiver. She’s very openminded and realizes everyone has their struggles, but if it’s something truly deplorable with no other reason besides causing harm or death or gaining influence then that changes quickly.

64. What are some habits your OC has picked up?

Fane has picked up on a lot of habits due to how long he’s lived and what his nature entails. He has a habit of squeezing his arms if he’s agitated, crossing them in an attempt to steady himself, and growling. Fane growls constantly, even if he’s not irritated. It’s an involuntary reaction from being a dragon.

He also has a habit of tracing patterns in wood with his eyes--pointing out shapes and faces. He also has a habit of..twisting the truth. *side eyes once AGAIN*

74. What is your OC’s favorite color?

Fane -- Blue (Don’t look at me like that.)

Estoria -- Grey (reminds her of her father’s eyes)

Mhairi -- White (she likes the symbolism of purity)

75. What is your OC’s favorite scent?

Fane -- Gladiolus

Estoria -- Rain

Mhairi -- Vanilla

76. What is your OC’s favorite animal?

Fane -- Wolf (DON’T. There’s more to it, I swear!)

Estoria -- Cats (she used to play with them in alley ways)

Mhairi -- Halla (she adores being around them since her mother would take her to them when she was little)

****

Thank you for the ask, lovely person! Have a splendid day! ❤️❤️

#dragon age #oc: fane lavellan #oc: estoria lavellan #oc: mhairi lavellan #oc: cyfrin azurel #asks #always love doing these because it helps me flesh my children out #get the brain juices flowing too!

4 notes · View notes

mywitchcultblr · 4 years ago

Note

The chantry is right and mages should be in the circle. Solas and anders are terrorists and anyone who believes they arent is delusional or a hypocrite. Anders killed a hundred innocent civillian non combatants and solas wants to tear down the veil killing millions in the process. But yes we should let the people causing firestorms and summoning demons go completely un supervised

MY FIRST ARGUMENT AGAINST A TEMPLAR BOOTLICKER! YAAY!

@lordaspoons Ok listen, first of all, I'm not felassan nor dalishlicious, my writings style is different and not as good as them, and I love to use a lot of profanities in my writings, so if you ever find ‘shit ‘ or ‘fuck’ in a post, not sorry I SWEAR THIS POST HAVE MORE THAN 7K WORDS! That’s why it took MONTHS for me to answer it

TEMPLAR AND CHANTRY ARE GOD-AWFUL AND CIRCLE IS NOT NECESSARY

Let’s see the canonical narrative okay? Let's take a look at Dragon Age keep descriptions of each MAGES heroes story and background.

Mage Hawke:

The son of Malcolm Hawke and Leandra Amell, Garrett has lived in many places throughout Ferelden. His father was a mage whose gifts were passed onto both Garrett and Bethany, Malcolm's daughter.

Malcolm refused to submit himself to the Chantry's rule; he kept his abilities a secret and taught his children to do the same.

Therefore, the family was constantly on the move to avoid templar hunters. Ten years ago, the family settled in the village of Lothering, building a home on the outskirts and making a life where they wouldn't forever be on the run.

Though Leandra worried constantly that the templars would one day catch up with them, Malcolm's teachings were sufficient to keep them safe.

He died three years ago, leaving Garrett responsible for the welfare of his mother and younger siblings. When the Blight began, Carver enlisted in King Cailan's regiment, saying the horde spilling from the Korcari Wilds meant their home would be quickly overrun if the darkspawn were not defeated immediately.

If the circle is not a goddamn prison that literally abused and drive so many mages to commit suicide then why the fuck hawke father decided to escaped and run away? The fact that even though his wife is a noble, a noble who should have been powerful enough to support him and their children and protect Malcom and their children with her name and connection is Kirkwall were forced to live in secret and ON THE RUN WITH HER FAMILY! is another of many many proofs that the system that chantry created for Thedas HURT everyone, whatever you are a peasant or a noble, if you have a mage in your family then they will be imprisoned in a circle that definitely will abuse them or you are forced to hide with them and run away from home.

IS QUARANTINE DRIVE YOU INSANE? ARE YOU BORED? WANNA GO OUT WITH FRIENDS? WANNA GRAB A MEAL IN A RESTAURANT? OR GET A HAIRCUT?

Remember De’Launcet fucking quote:

“You don’t understand. I’ve been in the Circle since I was six. Six! For Twenty years I was locked up. Never had a real drink, or... cooked something for myself. Never stood in the rain... or kissed a girl.”.

You cannot treat people like that! You can’t! it’s not right to imprison and enslaved people, mages, like that, there’s no justification to deny basic human rights/rights for any races. Imagine how desperate, depressed, touch-starved and horny you are, if you are not allowed to touch a woman who consented to have sex with you, imagine beingfucking locked up for twenty years and never feel the rain on your face.

Maybe you should try being locked up for most of YOUR LIFE, for shit you never did in your life ever, aka committed horrible crimes that you never committed in the first place?

Where’s the logic? Where’s the humanity? Andrastianism and The chantry is the worst religion and the worst religious institution in Thedas, and templars are not champion of the just, they are champion of abusers.

But besides because of religious zealotry and dogma, why did the chantry locked up and enslaved mages in circle and put templar in circle to fucking abused them? OH RIGHT! I KNOW! its for power and profits, because using slave labor to make enchantments and used mages as soldiers who never wanted to be dragged into war in the first place, it was and as prison/free labor to mass products enchantments is profitable for the chantry. !GROSS! DISGUSTING! Disgusting really. The circle system is not only a prison camp, but also an institutional slavery.

GROSS! DISGUSTING! But it sounds like any oppressive nations/institutions ever that used prison camp free labor to built factories and to work in their factories right?

Disgusting really.

Hey, LOOK AT HERO OF FERELDEN AND INQUSITOR EXPERIENCES IN THE CIRCLE! WHOA, IT WAS AWFUL!

For Mage!Trevelyan:

Born to the Trevelyan noble family of Ostwick in the Free Marches, you were originally intended for a life of privilege—until magical abilities surfaced at a young age and you were forced into a life of confinement within Ostwick's Circle of Magi. Protected but stifled, educated but isolated, the Circle would have been your entire future had the mages not rebelled against Chantry rule.

Trevelyan said that templars are a piece of shit who has two fucking faces (he said it to Josie) they smiled at mages (fake) but then they turned into as still as tone when a mage was punished ‘harshly”

Remember what Cassandra said when mages find out that Tranquility can be reversed, dipshit fucking seeker, lord seeker lucius punished mages ‘harshly’ and there were deaths, and by definition of harsh for mages in thedas is:

Rape

Isolation in an isolation cell (like what happened to Anders for a year!)

Starved to death like what happened to the real Cole

Tranquility or they are just killed.

Every mages, adult or child, has seen or experiences abuses daily in their life, you can imagine the physical and physiologicalphysicological damages that templar and chantry have inflicted on them. As a person who was fucking abused by her own father, Ii know too well how lasting scars could damage you for life.

TO ANYONE WHO DISMISSED ABUSES ESPECIALLY ABUSE THAT WAS PERPETRATED BY A RELIGIOUS SYSTEM/INSTITUTION, here take my middle finger AND SHOVE IT UP TO YOUR ASSES!

Look Hero Of Ferelden life when she was still stuck in the circle:

The Hero of Ferelden belonged to the Circle of Magi in Ferelden, and resided in the tower at Lake Calenhad for most of her life. First Enchanter Irving recommended the Hero to Grey Warden Commander Duncan; shortly after the Hero's Harrowing, Duncan recruited her into the order.

https://mllemaenad.tumblr.com/search/mage+warden+

https://dalishious.tumblr.com/post/190968276307/mage-child-are-the-templars-coming-for-us-mage

Mage child: Are the templars coming for us?

Mage child: Is death painful? Am I going to die?

HEY WANNA TAKE A LOOK AT SER ALRIK? THE SERIAL ABUSER AND RAPIST?

This is a letter that Alrik send to justinia before he died.To Her Excellency, Divine Justinia,I am well aware both you and Knight-Commander Meredith have rejected my proposal, but I beg you to reconsider. The mages in the Free Marches are past controlling, their numbers have doubled in three years, and they have found a way to plant their abominations in our ranks. They cannot be contained!

The Tranquil Solution is our answer. All mages at the age of majority must be made Tranquil. They'll coexist peacefully, retain their usefulness—a perfect strategy! It's simply the best way to ensure mages obey the laws of men and Maker.I remain, as always, your obedient servant,

Tranquil solution? Sounds like what Henrich Himmler said about Jews!

Because Tranquility is a genocidal weapon that the chantry used to decreased the mages population and culling them, hmmm you heard about an 11 YEARS OLD GIRL WHO was MADE A FUCKING TRANQUIL IN KIRKWAL?

Here I will give you a link to dalishious post about a young mage, 11 years old kid who was made tranquil by templar and chantry: https://dalishious.tumblr.com/post/620951635453149184/im-confused-it-says-that-she-requested-to-be|

ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING *spit on chantry and templar*

There’s no fucking justification for turning a kid into a tranquil, neither raped woman who was made tranquil or mages in general just because they have magic. Alrik and his man are known for abusing and raped tranquil on a daily occasion, and they were granted a title, position, money, and job by the chantry, meredith is a bitch who treated mages like a slave, she was drunk on red lyrium, she didn’t do shit for refugee and she fucking took over Kirkwall seat of government, forcefully, while it was not her job to lording over Kirkwall like a power-hungry bitch.

And for years no one checked on this bitch, because miss little grand cleric of Kirkwall is part of Meredith group, and no matter what unless the chantry got fucking destroyed or HEAVILY REFORMED like what Divine Leliana did, people like Meredith and

Ser Alrik will never be held accountable by the chantry or any rulers in Southern Thedas (except by King Alistair who gave rebel mages a safe refugee place I guess) because most shit heads who ruled in Thedas profited from oppression and slavery of their PEOPLE, OF MAGES AND ELVES.

You are a modern man, how could you ever side with the medieval church like the chantry? YOU KNOW THAT MEDIEVAL VATICAN AND TEMPLAR OF OUR WORLD WERE AWFUL RIGHT?

You knew that the vatican/church in the medieval era trapped people in dark ages with their regressive politic and dogma, you knew that gay people and woman were burned alive just because they were gay and just because they are? Woman? Maybe some of them truly practiced magic, but hey magic is cool.

I don’t understand at all, this fucking hatred and bigotry against mages and elves that spewed by some people in the fandom, anyone who hates mages and elves inherently hates them for who they are, for simply who they are.

My burning hatred for templar and chantry were caused by templar and chantry terrible actions for the past 10000 YEARS!!!!!!!! And not because they don't have magic or just because they are human.

The chantry brainwashed human to dehumanize others

I think this is one of the most disturbing crime the chantry ever committed for the past 1000 years, I can’t even help but shudder in disgust every time i heard chantry sisters or brother calling other people ‘abomination’ or ‘heretic’ because i know how dangerous religious zealotry can be.

As a Muslim who live in Indonesia i have seen people being thrown out of their house or whipped in public (In Aceh province)

2.NOW MAGES ALLIED BY THE THE INQUISITOR AND THE INQUISITION IS THE CANON PATH!

(deal with it honestly)

First of all, when The inquisitor went to Val Royeaux, the inquisition met with Lord Seeker who was arguing with chantry sister, he didn’t want to listen to her, and then he punched her (bitch fucking deserve it, to be honest, chantry members except anyone whose not bigoted like Leliana and Giselle deserve to be punched) he insulted the inquisition and the inquisitor! ( what a Bastard Dick! Well, templar order is gone and he’s going to die anyway so....Whatever)

When the Inquisitor went back to the way he came from (from Val Royeaux gate)

FIONA LEADER OF FREE MAGES HERSELF, DESPITE THE RISK AND DANGERS, WAS WILLING TO PERSONALLY GAVE AN OFFER OF ALLIANCES BETWEEN REBEL/FREE MAGES WITH THE INQUSITION.

FIONA GOES ALL THE WAY, FROM SAFETY OF REDCLIFF VILLAGE TO VAL ROYEAUX JUST SO SHE CAN meet WITH THE INQUISITOR AND OFFERED HIM AN ALLIANCES WITH OTHER REBEL MAGES (Of course The inquisitor accepted it, he’s a rebel mage after all duh!)

From the very beginning you can see which path is the preferred freaking option, Its In Hushed Whispers and not the other one.

Besides it would make more sense for the sake of continuity to find out about the rift, time magic, who’s the mastermind behind what happened in Redcliff Village (Alexius tricked Fiona and other mages with time magic and blood magic to signed up with Tevinter) AND HOW FUTURE WITH CORYPHEUS WON LOOKS LIKE, rather than I don’t know.....Whatever bullshit in Therinfal Redoubt.

SECOND. Free alliances with rebel mages definitely would give The inquisition more advantages, first mages knew how to deal with magic and the fade, mages are more suited and powerful to fight against enemies that cannot be defeated by shield and swords.

THIRD.

THERE WERE NO ACCIDENT, NO UNWANTED POSSESSION OR EVEN NO POSSESSION AT ALL, NO DISASTER, AND NO ‘ABOMINATION’ .

FOURTH. THE MAGES CONSUMED fewer RESOURCES BECAUSE THEY DONT NEED LYRIUM TO FEED THEIR ADDICTION/CAST SPELLS.

FIFTH.

FOR A WHOLE YEAR DURING CAMPAIGN AGAINST CORYPHEUS, MAGES HAS PROVEN THAT THEY CAN TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES, MAGES WERE DISCIPLINED, RELIABLE AND BOTH THEDAS, INQUISITION, PEOPLE WHO LIVED IN SKYHOLD AND MAGES THEMSELVES ARE FINE WITH THE MAGES BEING FREE, WITHOUT RELIGIOUS SLAVERS WHO OWN THEM, WITHOUT JAILER WATCHING THEIR BACK.

SIX. SPIRITS AND DEMONS were LITERALLY EVERYWHERE, AND EXCUSE ME, HAVE FRANCOIS EVER RECEIVED/READ REPORTS ABOUT HIS FELLOW MAGES FALL INTO DEMON POSSESSION? HELL NO! NOT EVEN ONCE

SEVEN.

MAGES ALLIED AS FULL ALLY WOULD BE MORE INDEPENDENT, AND THEY COULD TEACHED YOUNG MAGES HOW TO SURVIVE ON THEIR OWN, THEY COULD BE MORE INVOLVED WITH SOCIETY, AND MAGES ASSIMILATED TO SOCIETY

AND FINALLY.

DO YOU want A ANOTHER FUCKING PROOF OF MAGES FREEDOM BEING SUCCESSFUL? DO YOU WANT LITERAL CANON PROOF THAT MAGES BEING FREE IS ONE OF THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED IN THEDAS?

The Inquisition's mages – the former rebels led by Grand Enchanter Fiona – are left with a choice.

Alliance

Leliana is Divine

When Leliana disbands the Circles, they leave the Inquisition and reform the College of Enchanters as a new order. The College, they say, will allow mages of the South to gather in peace and seek new solutions to age-old problems. For the moment, it appears to be working – mages are enjoying unprecedented acceptance throughout Thedas.

Epilogue for mages freedom in Trespasser:

NOW College of Enchanters, Thedas third or fourth most powerful mage order and government (third if Rivain mages flocked to The College but I think Rivain mages after all mages has been freed (remember its canon) they will unite with Rivain government or if College Of Enchanters turned out to be stronger than mages order in rivain ) , the college is third/fourth-strongest order after Tevinter obviously, Nevarra death mages, and Rivain mages.

And everything is totally fine.

Leliana Divine, Mages recruited as allies

The end of the Inquisition as it had been sent shock waves through the College of Enchanters. Madam de Fer ably played on the mages' fear. Her followers united to build a new Circle - with Vivienne as its Grand Enchanter - in direct competition with the College. What the Circle lacked in numbers, they made up for in political connections; soon they were a force to be reckoned with.

Well about this stuff in trespasser it’s just vivienne stuff I guess *shrug*

College of enchanters will always exist because like I said before so many many many times, that ever since Hero of Ferelden Era, To Kirkwall and then to Dragon 4:41/ 4:44, the canon and preferred path is to support mages and elves equality and freedom!!!!

THERE I GIVE YOU ONE, AND IT WAS MORRIGAN WHO SAID IT HERSELF.

Even a chantry sister from haven admitted that the mages looked happier and she said that she supports/give them chance to

SO WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?! CIRCLE IS NEVER BEEN FUCKING NEEDED! IT WAS JUST DRAKON STUPID BIGOTED MOVES TO ENSLAVED AND COLLARED MAGES AND ELVES.

Rivain mages were fine, and their society worked well with mages have their freedom Rivain trained their female mages to be seers, and seers hold important positions within Rivain government and society, oh but what happened? When the chantry fucking find out that Rivain didn’t treat their mages like shits and slave, that Rivain treated mages with respect like any other people.

The chantry fucking send right on annulment and committed genocide against Rivain fucking mages, chantry you shit organization, Rivain will hate you more than before and I wouldn’t be surprised if the grand cathedral in Rivain will go boom too (i will support it, fuck those people) the chantry literally murdered children there and committed genocide against people of Rivain, No one will defend them in Rivain, no one.

Codex Entry:

When we heard of the injustices against our fellow mages at the White Spire, the Circle of Magi in Val Royeaux, I feared what was to come. Our Circle at Dairsmuid is small and isolated; it exists largely as a façade to appease the Chantry.

When the other Circles rose up, the Chantry sent Seekers across the bay from Ayesleigh to investigate. They found us mixing freely with our families, training female mages in the traditions of the seers, and denounced us as apostates. Perhaps they thought we were spineless robes who could be intimidated with a little bloodshed. Before I was first enchanter, I was the daughter of Captain Revaud, of the Felicisima Armada. I know how to plan a battle.They brought with them a small army of templars. We fought. And we might have won. But they invoked the Right of Annulment, with all the unrelenting brutality that allowed.

It is their right to put screaming apprentices to the sword, burn our "tainted" libraries, crush irreplaceable artifacts under their heels, tear down the very walls of our home.

No mage has the right to disagree. We of the Dairsmuid Circle wait now, behind barricades. I have sent word to our brother and sister mages of this outrage. When they breakthrough, we will not die alone.—Final journal entry of First Enchanter R

Whoaa look at the chantry and templar, casually committed genocide because they are ass hole who cannot accept that they are wrong, maybe they should accept those different nations have different cultures and traditions? Hmmm, maybe templar and chantry should accept that people are not a mother fucking weapon and slaves to be used and imprisoned since they discovered their magic, chantry and Templar should learn when to stop, and they should learn that they didn’t know shit and doesn’t want to know shits about spirits? self-righteous much?

Circle system, templar system, and chantry system cannot be saved because it’s just awful, those systems systematically oppressed and abused people, and we all know that time and time again YOU CANNOT KEEP PEOPLE OPPRESSED AND ENSLAVED FOREVER, THEY WILL REBEL AND SOONER OR LATER THEY WILL WIN THEIR FREEDOM AND THE OLD SYSTEM WILL BE BURNED TO DUST.

No matter how you tried change the circle/templar system, it will always be prone to corruption, because the system put templar above mages, and when someone have more legal immunity and power above other people, then abuses of authority will always happen, hey....LOOK AT COPS IN OUR WORLD.

if anyone tries to prevent other people from being equal and free just like any outer people there who have privileges and advantages, holy shit you are horrible, that’s a shitty bigoted view.

BEFORE INQUISITION WAS EVEN REBUILT, MYTHAL AND MORRIGAN PREDICTED THAT THERE WILL BE GREAT CHANGES COMING, MORRIGAN PREDICTED THERE WILL BE A HERALD OF CHANGES IN THEDAS.

They were talking about The Inquisitor who will completely turn Thedas upside down and changed systems that Thedas know it with better ones.

SO why even bother to fucking keep an old system that doesn’t work and very oppressive and it was designed to imprison and enslaved people?

okay, listen here you little templar- oh I mean Ex-Templar, because templar order of the south is just gone forever ( who the hell wanted to be a templar again after people knew how dangerous lyrium could be? Especially after they saw lumbering red templar ABOMINATION, *not sorry they are really ugly bastard* Wrecking havoc all across Thedas

3.MAGE FREEDOM AND DESTRUCTION OF TEMPLAR ORDER IS A GOOD THING FOR EVERYONE AND FOR THEDAS!

Let me explain it to ya!

1. Mages won their freedom means, no more tranquil, there would be no more long-suffering half walking, half living person who’s cursed in the emotionless body (well at least in the south)

2. Mages could finally raise their own children, have family, married without fear and they don't have to run away from templar and chantry if they want to marry someone, mages children who were taken forcefully from their parents could finally meet their parents again, you don't want kids who were kidnapped from their family since a young age to be reunited with a family who loves them and misses them so much? Holy shit that’s monstrous.

3. Mage Orphan who has no relatives/family/home/ or friends to return could stay with College of Enchanters with other mages.

4. No more children will be kidnapped from the parents, no more mother who will lose their mage baby again because the templar and chantry ripped their baby away from their arms, never again.

5. New Generations of Mages kids who never have to endure torture and abuses in the circle, they can grow up in a safe and happy environment with their family or with the college.

6. Mages actively participated in society, and they can invent a great many things for Thedas modernization and advancement, remember Zither? He’s a mage and he uses his magic to play in a band, imagine the possibilities of Thedas technology-magic advancement with unrestrained magic, boi based on the newest leak, it seems like Arlathan was a magical cyberpunk empire.

7. As a free citizen, many mages abilities/ skill can be implemented for different kinds of jobs, hey remember Lysas who wanted to be a mage farmer? Agriculture in Thedas could be improved with magic, Medication, and medical studies could be greatly modernized with magic, not to mention fashion, opera/plays, and music, hell even professional chef jobs will be much easier with magic, The inquisitor used telekinesis/spell to fixes broken bridges, and lit a veil fire are another example that magic could be used for mundane stuff and not just for

8. College of Enchanters definitely would be a steadfast ally for The Inquisition and The inquisitor, and not to mention that the Inquisition new operations area would be in the north/Tevinter, mages would be able to help greatly. 9. With templar order gone forever in southern Thedas, then there will be no more people who are force feed lyrium and suffer from lyrium addiction to the point they become a beggar because they wasted all of their coins for lyrium. 10. So mages now are free, no more circle, then what’s the point of templar or seeker anymore? Actually Seeker, circle and templar are never needed, then how southern Thedas should handle with magic related crime or just crime in general, well I’ts easy, you see mages guard in Tamriel world? You know those guards in Skyrim? Or guard/law enforcer in Warcraft world who use magic? With mages free they also can work as guards

Why templar and chantry bootlicker literally believed in The chantry fearmongering false propaganda about mages and magic? It’s like medieval Vatican bullshit! fearmongering about technology and ‘sin’, fearmongering about spirit and magic?

We live in the modern era! So stop believing chantry propaganda!

Stop living as if its the 10th centuries, don’t keep clinging on the awful terrible system and it’s past, dude, see the future in front of you, and try to be positive about progressive changes. You know what happened to a world who refused to change? Yeah man look at Anor Londo, everything rot there. And have we ever heard about terrible accident that was caused by mages from College of Enchanters? Or by any mages at all? NO ONE EVER CONFIRMED THAT FREE MAGES OF THE SOUTH WRECKED HAVOC ALL ACROSS THEDAS, BECAUSE THE FREE MAGES DIDN’T DO ANYTHING AT ALL. AND THE MAGES HAS BEEN FREE FOR TWO YEARS! COLLEGE OF ENCHANTERS HAS BEEN OPERATING FOR TWO YEARS WITHOUT ANYONE ENSLAVED AND JAILED THEM Hey man, i gave you straight fact that mages being free is the best choice to support, and facts that nothing bad happened with mages being free, so your theory and your fear (that actually is just wrong, and it’s sounds kinda like paranoia to be honest Persecution is really stupid, that’s why it’s called persecution in the first place. HA!

ANDERS WAS, RIGHT!

‘Terrorist’ is a term that can be overused and utilized by people in power to demean and demonized freedom fighter/Resistance movement against tyranny.

https://mllemaenad.tumblr.com/search/is+anders+terrorist%3F

There’s fuck tons examples of people who were falsely accused as terrorists by tyrannical power to labeled them as a danger and to demonize them, while ‘the terrorist’ who fight for equality and freedom were demanding their people to be treated like a human, and they wanted equal rights.

examples:

[ I am an Indonesian btw, so I knew personally some stuff about dictator and dictatorship government]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgwS_FMZ3nQ&ab_channel=PhilosophyTube

https://www.britannica.com/event/resistance-European-history

https://www.thejakartapost.com/academia/2020/09/07/long-road-to-see-justice-over-munirs-murder.html

As an Indonesian woman, our people were oppressed by many European nations, from Dutch To British to French and Portuguese, our nations were stripped and reduced to mere colonies of European powers, our people were enslaved in their own lands, woman raped and children murdered, then after Dutch leave, because Hitler almost sunk their nation during WWII, Japan fucking invaded our land and then enslaved us again!

Japan lost the world war alongside with its axis allies, YAAY! We are free, but wait, the Dutch Empire was such a baby they wanted their ‘toys’ , they fucking demanded the allies to helped them invaded Indonesia again because in the eye of Dutch Empire we are nothing but their slaves to be milked dry and taken advantages of, but we fought back! And now all Indonesian people from children to the elderly are free!

Did Indonesian people won their freedom and built their nation with being subservient and asked nicely?

FUCK NO, blood was spilled and heads were cut, a lot of head, but at least now generations upon generations of Indonesian people will never taste the brutality of slavery and how does it feel to be enslaved. Our first president was considered as a menace and a terrorist by Dutch Royalty, he was imprisoned in isolation but managed to escape over and over again!

But wait, if any person who rebelled against the government regardless of their intentions can be labeled as a terrorist *gasp* IS THAT MEAN GEORGE FUCKING WASHINGTON WAS A TERRORIST?! Apparently, by British Empire standards, he was.

The guy and his friends waged a war against the crown, because British Empire keep treated American colony like shit, from the perspective of King George, Washington was a piece of shit who kept ruined his country and his colonies, but boi Americans would be angry if someone called Washington a terrorist right? Because for them, Washington's struggle and rebellion were righteous.

YOU CAN’T SIMPLY USE THE LABEL OF ‘TERRORIST’ TO CONDEMN ANDERS AND HIS ACTIONS WITHOUT EVEN UNDERSTAND HIS MOTIVE.

Because if you keep doing then, in your perspective every single freedom fighter who rebelled against cruelty and tyranny should be condemned?

We are talking about what is a ‘terrorist’ here, and if you want to label someone as a terrorist then you have to read their manifesto, understand their motive, try to hear what they wanted to say, and understand the core of ideas behind their rebellion.

Here’s the thing, will you call the Stonewall riot as an act of terrorism? ( i presume from your blog description you are a supporter of LGBT right? )

What about Joachim Ronnenberg? A man who leads a daring raid against Nazi Germany nuclear weapon factory had the german succeded in their efforts, we might have read devastating histories about the nuclear bomb that destroyed London like what happened to Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

From the perspective of Nazi Germany...This guy wasis a terrorist and an enemy!

But it feels so wrong to describe freedom fighter as a terrorist right? How could we label people who resist nazi Germany as a terrorist?!

Because we know, despite the casualties, despite everything that happened, what they did was right, and they needed to fight back.

Allies marched to Berlin was the right thing to do, American colonies rebelled despite they knew that a lot of people will die in war, but have you ever condemned the founding father and his people for their rebellion? Or argued that it wasn’t necessary for them to rebelled. Soekarno wars and rebellion against dutch colonists and invaders cannot be condemned, because objectively, no one should support slavery and colonization of other nations.

French people were so sick and tired of their nobilities and royalties bullshit to the point they cut off their own monarch head, but they were right, because French Monarchy was corrupt and incompetent, while nobles and royalties were feasting and drinking as if there’s no tomorrow, poor people in French can’t even afford bread.

Trans and Gay people who fight back and demonstrated against injustice was right, the woman who demonstrated and rioted against the oppressive system and patriarchy was right.

WE KNEW DEEP DOWN THEIR CAUSE ARE NOT EVIL, OR CONDEMNABLE, THEIR CAUSES ARE OBJECTIVELY RIGHT!

But what if it were someone like Adolf Hitler who hmmm rebelled against the Weimar Republic, back before his raises to power around 1920-1923, I’m sure that you are familiar with his Beer Hall Putsch, when he held 14 mass meetings in Germany, for the nazi it was a historical moment, ‘a glorious resistance against the weak and incompetent Weimar Republic’

For his supporter it was glorious, but despite their best efforts to convinced themselves that they were right, WE KNEW HE WAS NOT RIGHT, Nazi was god awful.

What is the core idea of nazism? (I'm going to compare it with socialism/communism because some people keep saying that communism is just like nazi, and it's absolutely wrong)

https://www.britannica.com/topic/communism/Marxian-communism

https://www.britannica.com/event/Nazism

They are very different. Ya see despite some people who keep yelling that communist is just nazism by any other name. ( and I’m not a communist)

Adolf Hitler might see himself as a savior, a martyr, and his party also people who supported him

richard spencer, see himself as a ‘liberator’ and voice of white people, but behind all of his fucking bullshit, his core ideas are just Naziism, he is a nazi, Richard Spencer is a white supremacist so does any other alt-right edge lord on the internet who insisted that they are not nazi, despite the fact they fucking followed nazi ideologies and practiced hatred ( btw nazi ideology is based on white supremacist and eugenic ideologies too, so what’s the difference really?” Nazi is white supremacists and white supremacists will always be a nazi)

Alright and how all of it ties back to Anders and mage rebellion, you might ask, ‘why did you write about histories lessons that I already knew about?’

Well templar child, it’s all lead back

TO THE CORE OF ANDERS IDEAS AND MANIFESTO AND WHY HIS IDEOLOGIES/BELIEVES AND MAGES REBELLION WAS ON THE FREAKING RIGHT SIDE.

I wrote that fucking long-ass paragraphs so people will be able to differentiate the righteous kind of rebellion (or ‘terrorism’ from the perspective of the power/oppressors) and the god-awful kind of rebellion/terrorism.

Because instead of listening and learning about what anders wanted, some people are often so fixated on the semantic of the word ‘terrorist’ and got too distracted by that stupid chantry explosion. THE CHANTRY EXPLODED IS THE SAME KIND OF THING IF HITLER OR STALIN’S OFFICE too

People died? Yeah so does people who died during USA war against British Empire, was it terrible that people died? Yeah it was terrible but just like what i wrote before, the rebellion had to happened. And you said that he killed hundreds? Huh the numbers was never 100% confirmed because i don't think Isabela count the bodies, and second we cannot be sure about numbers of the casualties, because we never really see ALL them in the first place. And actually arent Hero of Ferelden, Hawke and Inquisitor killed SO MANY PEOPLE? What about The Dragonborn? No to mention that in their journey they also destroyed private and public property and killed so many god damn animals to the point they could have been the reason why some species of animals are endangered. And no one ever protest or raised a fuss when heroes killed tons of people. Arent templar and chantry also killed and tortured so many people? What about mages who were killed or made tranquil for the past 1000 years? What about mages who committedcommited suicide like Orsino friend who locked herself in a closet then set herself on fire? Because she no longer can’t stand living in Kirkwall Circle prison? What about Anders friends who often committedcommited suicide because what templar did to them and that lead to severe depression? What about mages and elves who were hunted down and killed just because they escaped from their circle prison, they were killed by order of the chnatry and templar cut them down with their sword? What about Elves of Dales who died because Orlais wanted to expand its fucking territoryterrtotry and justified their racial superiority? Chantry and templar supported that. What about Karl who asked Anders to killed him because he preferred to die rather than be a tranquil again? Or captured by templar again? TEMPLAR AND CHANTRY COMMITED MORE CRIMES FOR THE PAST 1000 YEARS MORE THAN ANY PERSON DID, THE TEMPLAR AND CHANTRY MURDERED, ENLSAVED, TORTURED AND IMPRISON PEOPLE ALSO SUPPORTED GENOCIDE FOR 1000 YEARS! IF WE CALCULATED NUMBERS OF PEOPLE WHO DIED BY THE CHANTRY ORDER AND TEMPLAR SWORDS, IT’S MORE THAN FREAKING MILLIONS! ANDERS DID WHAT HE DID TO FREE THE MAGES AND FUTURE MAGES CHILDREN, SAME THING WITH FIONA AND THE MAGES WHO REBELLED TO FREE THEMSELVES AND FOR THE FUTURE OF MAGES, THEY ALSO REBELLED FOR FUTURE MAGES FREEDOM, THEY REBELLED FOR THE FREEDOM OF PEOPLE (because unlike what noodle and chantry said and spread, mages are PEOPLE!) so what are you saying again? HUH ? what is your justification? What is your defense? CHANTRY AND TEMPLAR CRIMES CANNOT BE DEFENDED! If you justified Templar and chantry crimes then THE EVANURIS AND TEVINTER and the stupid qun ideals can be justified too? From OBJECTIVE perspective Anders ideology WAS RIGHT! HE AND THE MAGES BELONG WITH THE RIGHTEOUS REBELS. Let’s compare chantry/templar mentality and moral vs mages and elves believes and pursuit of freedom.

Let’s see examples of chantry/templar mentality based on evidence and popular opinion in Thedas that was forced by The chantry to people head.

1. The interpretation of chant of light that mages and nonhuman are abhorred by the maker, and they are ‘evil’ and corrupt’ i must remind you that MODERN and RELEVANT andrastianism in modern Thedas, has twisted whatever Andraste said and they strayed so far away from what andraste possibly could have wanted.

What if Maferath Betrayal was not based on maliciousness? Or not just based on maliciousness? What if Andraste was truly a mage? The chantry lied about Shartan, the chantry fucking lied about Ameridan, if there’s one IRONIC TRUTH about the chantry, they lied, they twisted story and histories for their political power and their gains.

the whole ‘magic must serve man and not rule over him’ was purposely misinterpreted to fucking justify drakon fucking fanfic holy book, and his campaign to conquer the rest of Thedas. And the chant verses were twisted as a stupid and terrible justification to demonize and enslaved mages and elves in circle towers.

In a nutshell that chant actually��said that magic is a gift that should not be used for terrible deeds. But andrastian changed the meaning and twisted their own prophet words to enslave and oppressed southern mages.

2. The chantry believes about Everything that related to the fade/spirits/ or demon are dangerous and inherently evil, I ALWAYS LAUGHED MY ASS OFF, whenever templar/chantry/andrastian/non mages spouting hateful shits about the fade and spirits, it’s incredibly ironic, because there’s an implication that ALL PEOPLE who were not made by Titans (dwarves was made by titan) were spirits from the fade who ‘created body from the earth’ after they descended to the material world.

The evanuris, first of elven people, Solas and his people were spirits, it can be safely assumed that modern elves, humans and qunari in their truest form are spirits as well.

I think during his personal quest, All New Faded forFor Her, Aka The Dreadwolf Fen’harel, Solas has explained the truth about what human, elves and qunari truly are and what is their true form would be once they are died ( if they are not a remarkable person then they will simply be lost to the fade )

Besides it’s the chantry who spread hateful and ignorant propaganda about evil of spirits/demons, the fact that chantry spread such misinformed propaganda and derailed hates of the fade and spirit into people mind actually is one of the reasons why demons and unwilling possession as modern thedas know it exists, I know Cole explained that spirit who crossed from the fade to the world was simply traumatized by their journey, the veil hurt them ( we can blame Solas for that) rules in the material world is just confusing, the earth and it’s mostly inflexible and unchanging rules confused them.

But if The fade can be bend and shaped by powerful dreamer/mages/ dreams and believes of people. That means...Demons were also created by The chantry ignorant and hateful propaganda. If many people believed that spirits are dangerous or ‘they are demon’, that spirits and the fade are scary then that’s how they will manifest.

The fade and spirit can be influenced by people's collective beliefs and perceptions. That’s mean it also The chantry and their dogmatic backward propaganda that made spirit/demon as we know it today, I mean for some reason Cole called himself a ‘demon’? While the boy was never corrupted nor twisted from his true nature, i think it’s because people perception of him and spirit. The chantry dogmatic believes backfired on their own face. rule about

3. Blind devotion to Orlais Chantry, theThe chantry foundation was made of bones upon bones and blood, emperor kordilius drakon butchered many cults and stamped out any non-andrastian religion or branch of andrastianism that didn’t conform to his cult believes so he can establish his cult of andraste as the dominant religious power in southern thedas or thedas in general.

The Daughters of Song

Wine. Music. Poetry. And the wanton and frenzied indulgence of carnal fancies. These things characterized the hedonistic cult known as the Daughters of Song. Calling them an order of the faithful lends them a legitimacy they do not deserve. The daughters (and sons, though they saw themselves also as "daughters") celebrated Andraste's holy union with the Maker in almost every way imaginable. And it was only the "holy union" they venerated. Andraste's life, her war, her teachings, and her sacrifice were blithely ignored.

At its height, the Daughters of Song numbered in the thousands. They maintained a stronghold in a village called Virelay, in the Fields of Ghislain. Virelay saw a yearly event during which the Daughters of Song paraded carven images of the "Maker's Glory" through the square.The Daughters of Song were wiped out by the righteous forces of Emperor Drakon during his campaigns to unite all of Orlais. When the emperor's forces sacked the village, the Daughters would not arm themselves and were either killed or captured. The village was destroyed, and the cult never recovered.—From Before Andrastianism: the Forgotten Faiths by Sister Rondwyn of Tantervale

HA! Blithely ignored her fucking war and ‘sacrifice’ is much better than using the story of andraste life as propaganda and tools to conquer, murder, enslaved, and wiped out groups of people who didn’t buy to your shit.

The daughter of the songs was not a cult of a sex-crazed hedonist, they were another group of pacifist andraste cult who didn’t do anything wrong at all (seems like they were peaceful, they didn’t even willing to armed themselves when Drakon butchered their people) and they just wanted to be left alone to their own device, but of course Drakon, that egotistical bastard who sees himself as a martyr and narcissistic self-proclaimed holy man, so he put any people who didn’t want to listen to his bullshit to sword.

The chantry and Orlais using their god, their prophet words, and their religion as a bludgeoning tool to conquer and forcefully converted people, the foundation of modern andrastianism religion was based drakon totalier philosophy his ambitions to rule all of Thedas.

Ironically if there are people who smeared and desecrate andraste and the maker, its their followers.

This kind of religious militant mentality has ledlead to people justification of exalted march, because they thought that they were doing it for the maker, they believed that the march is the maker works, anyoneany one who supported exalted march were so convinced that they were right to spilled so many blood and butchered so many people for their religious zealotry (and political ambition of their rulers but eh peasant rarely know anything about what happened in winter palace right?)

if you supported exalted march of dales or exalted march against mages then.... As a Muslim i just want to say, what’re the differences between exalted march and Christian crusade? And we know that Crusade was a waste of resources and lives or ISIS ambition for expansionism?

Military and Religion is a dangerous and scary combination. And I can’t comprehend why any modern human could be so thirsty and horny to destroy other people's nations for their religion and their interpretation of their religion. and let me remind you again, the chantry and templar supported this mentality and often using the maker as a reason and justification of their terrible deeds. The chantry refusal to acknowledge and respect different kind of andrastian religion and their outright rejection of different religion lead them to wiped out pre-chantry andrastian cult aka their own brethren and destruction of The dales, destruction and deaths of so many dalish clan, prejudice and bigotry against qunari and dwarves. and we don’t have to talk about what happen to old god religion worshipper. Y’know sounds like dark age church and their obsessions to stamped out any kind of ‘heresy’ , you like that shit? You supported it? EWWWW. D: 4. Templar and Chantry brainwashed people to be hateful bigot, I don’t care about any kind of justification or ‘positive deeds’ that andrastianism has done, a thousandthousands years of proofs and facts has proven that most of the time they spreading bigotry and hate for their own political power and gains, the chantry instilled intolerance on people mind and using terror as a way to control population of Thedas, people except for the ruling class are live in uncertainty and fear, we might see peasant in thedas just living their simple life, but if the temple and chantry find out that they are doing anything ‘suspicious’ or they hide their relatives who can use magic then that’s it, their life will end by chantry order and Templar sword, not to mention that the chantry bigoted cheating also lead to these kind of situation, remember that mage who were murdered in the storm coast by villager? She died because the chantry brainwashed people to hates on anything non-human and to hate on mages. NOW THE MAGES, let’s take a look at the mages and elves. 1.The mages and elves just wanted to be free and to be treated as an equal in society, not as a walking weapon to be enslaved and imprisoned and not as a servant/slave to non-mage human (or in tevinter and the qun not as a slave in general for elves and mages too who suffer under the qun ) if anyone supporting an ideology or people who deny other people rights, BASIC RIGHTS, then all of you fucktard can rot in hell. 2. Fiona, despite the chantry and Templar oppressed and enslaved her people for must I remind you again 1000 year! Fiona Was still willing to let other fraternities and other circles to vote, whenever they wanted to follow her rebellion or not, AND THE SOUTHREN MAGES CHOSE TO REBELED AND FOLLOWING HER! 3. Now mages freedom is canon, the mages now have their own government and they rule over themselves( college of enchanters) and they never try to enslave, oppress, brutalize and hurt non mages 4. Now Briala rule in Orlais, she could help to keep: 1. Remember that mage who died in Gaspard on leash and preventing him from invading other nations, not to mention that she definetly

Oh, Solas where are thou ~

Now about Solas and the veil, we might speculate to our heart content about Solas plans and what he might do in the future, but to be honest, truth to be told, NO ONE EXACTLY KNOW what is his actual plan for the evanuris, for the blight, for titans and to tear m down the veil. We only have morsels of information about his plans from trespasser, and Tevinter night (also from the leaks). Who knew maybe Solas plan will ironically save the world? Doomed it? Saved some people? Only doomed half of the world? Will the world end? Or survive? Now i want all magic to come back but without have to kill millions of people in Thedas, Because it will solve non-mages vs mages problem, everybody will be mages and the centuries of problems will be solved, not to mention that with the minuscule amounts of magic Thedas physical world now have, people seemed to slowly devolving, being cut from magic of the fade is not only horrible for mages but also for non- mages (Because the fade is the sources of power and life itself, not to mention that Solas referred to it as ‘The sea of souls’ in Tevinter Nights) Here’s the thing, with or without Solas even waking up from his long sleep, i think The veil will be destroyed either way, here’s the evidences that supported my theories (But i still have no idea about What exactly will happen just like many other people out there ) Sandal Prophercy: “Sandal: One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.” Grand Duchess Florianne: “ A great CHANGE is coming for all of us lord seeker lucius: “ We created a decaying world, and fought to preserve it even as it crumbled, we had to be stopped” Kieran: “My mother is the inheritor of the next age” Mythal: WE HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT WHAT SOLAS PLAN IS, what is he going to do with other evanuris? What bout the titans? What about mythal? and ghilan’nain creatures that has been slowly emerge from the sea? What about the blight and darkspawn? I feel like Solas wouldn’t be the true next main villain, he wouldn’t be Corypheus 2.0, why? Because unlike the blight or Corypheus, Solas have important relationship with The inquisitor, while most any other fucking villain have little to no relationship with heroes. So here Solas quote from Tevinter Nights: His look pinned her “I have no choice.What I am doing will save this world, and those like you- the elves who are still remain-may find it better, when it is done.” Solas might call himself “Prideful, hot headed and foolish.” but he’s not a fucking idiot, he wouldn’t just tear down the veil just to bing elven glory back, there must be something bigger behind his motives, like the evanuris and well titans I don’t want to say much about the possible consequences of what might Solas do, because frankly we don’t know anything about it. It is possible tho that the veil destruction will be the same thing just like the fifth blight, mage and elves vs Templar and chantry/human war, Corypheus rises and fall and the fucking explosion of both Kirkwall chantry and temple of sacred ashes, it just going to happen, it is what fucking it is man. To quote Steve Jobs “One more thing” Patrick fucking Weekes and their wife supporting mage and mage rights MEANWHILE... if you could live anywhere in Thedas, where would you live? PATRICK: I would live in Rivain. Because Rivain is not as hung up on magic, because they have seers who let themselves get possessed... they also have a relatively peaceful relationship with the Qun. And they're kind of a melting pot and multicultural... they're a place where a lot of different cultures come together. And also? Beachfront property. KARIN: I was just gonna say... if you need further justification, they get to say, "I want to live on the beach."

Yeah, that was a really good one. Okay, moving on: Mages or Templars? PATRICK and KARIN (in unison): Mage

http://www.dumpeddrunkanddalish.com/2020/05/castles-fennecs-and-player-engagement.html http://www.dumpeddrunkanddalish.com/2020/04/chatting-with-weekeses-part-3-romances.html

13 notes · View notes

kita-lavellan · 5 years ago

Text

Beyond The Veil Discord OC-Asks

We have an OC-Question-Time channel on our Beyond The Veil Discord, and I keep forgetting to Copy/Paste my answers from there to here, so I’m about to do a single large post! To those of you still waiting on answers from my Ask Box, I’ll get to them I promise ^_^

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Why might someone dislike them? For kita -- From @rivainisomniari A. She's stubborn. She knows she's stubborn, but Kita doesn't often realise when she's crossing the line from stubborn to just being bull-headed. Nel, her sister, is often the one to call her on this behavior and force her to back down.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. What Hogwarts House would they be in? -- From @rivainisomniari A. Kita would be a Ravenclaw

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. When bored, how do they pass time? For Kita -- From @rivainisomniari A. Running. Kita loves running. As a child she would spend hours running through the forests and wilds with Nel. She misses it while at Haven, but once they reach Skyhold she often runs around the battlements, people getting out of her way with the assumption she is rushing to speak to an advisor.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. When publishing a book it is wise to make comparisons with well known published works, to help a publisher see your understanding of the market, and also to help them decide on the best way to market your manuscript. So, that thought in mind, whom can you compare (from other popular media) your OCs too? -- From @mrstethras A. Oh nice question!! Kita is a cross between Elsa from Frozen, Loki (Marvel) and someone I'd LIKE to be :D ... Ghilana Mahariel, my Warden, is a bit of a blend with Natasha Romanova (Black Widow from Marvel), and Rupunzel from Disney's Tangled... Malia Hawke is a Self Insert, but with a dash of Killian Jones from Once Upon A Time for some sassy Hawke-Sarcasm

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. What do they value most in others? -- From @noire-pandora A. Honesty! Kita would rather you outright tell her you don't want to speak about something than LIE about it.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Who is your inquisitor's best friend in the Inquisition? -- From @rivainisomniari A. Kita's favourite people are Dorian, Leliana and Varric. Dorian wormed his way into her heart very quickly by being so protective of her during the Redcliff mission. She found it amusing, but also sweet and endearing, and the whole mission was a fast-bonding experience for the pair. Watching Leliana be willing to die for her to, washed away the wariness and caution Kita had carried for the inquisition up until that point, but especially for Leli when the woman was so clear in telling her she would do it again, once they're back in their proper time. Varric was the first person, after her sister, to ask how SHE was, which made a soft spot for him, and honestly, who can't like Varric eventually?

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Is there any situation in which they would make a deal with a demon? -- From @noire-pandora A. Tough one! Kita has always been very connected to the Fade and the spirits within! She would probably barter and/or bargain with a spirit, because she is familiar with in her interactions with them, demons are still spirits but corrupted, so she would probably either avoid them or try to help them, especially after she learns more about spirits and the Fade from Solas throughout the Inquisition timeline.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Name one big flaw for your ocs? -- From @mrstethras A. Kita is slow to trust others, especially humans. She is aware that she distrusts people outside of her clan, but Kita doesn’t see it as a flaw, simply being cautious. Sometimes overly cautious, but she tries to balance her distrust with logic where she can. Ghilana's automatic response to someone showing any interest in her is to be abrasive, abrupt, and rude. She doesn't give people the benefit of the doubt, or chances, if they want her companionship they need to work at it and/or earn it. She comes across as a cold-hearted bitch, but if you persevere and crack that outershell she's a marshmallow. Malia's flaw is thinking she could have stopped or prevented anything and everything that goes wrong around her. Usually something Lydia has done, that she feels she could have predicted and avoided.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Do they have any family? -- From @rivainisomniari A. Kita has her sister, Nel (@mrstethras‘ Character) and their grandmother, Deshana, other than that, no. their father died when they were young, and their mother died during the War Table mission/attack on wycomb. Ghilana doesn't have any family that she knows of. Her father was killed by humans and city elves, and her mother wandered into the forest never to return when she was a baby. Ashalle raised her, and she considers the woman family, but she's not blood family. Malia has her older sister, @mrstethras‘ Hawke, Lydia. There's also her brother Carver and her sister Bethany, both of whom survive the trip to Kirkwall.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Are they close to their family? -- From @randomfallout4posts A. Kita is VERY close to Nel. She was fairly close to Deshana, but felt like she had to keep some of her magical talents hidden from the woman, because they weren't strictly "normal". Once she was able to be more free with herself with the Inquisition, and with Solas and Nel in particular away from the Clan, she began to feel less close to her grandmother and more judged for the ease with which she communed with spirits. Ghilana is not particularly close with her family. She struggles with the idea that Ashalle is not her "real" mother, and feels guilty for thinking like that. Tamlen was the closest thing she had to a 'real' family in her mind, and she had to abandon him, it took her a long time to begin to trust Briar and Alistair and instantly latched onto the first elf she saw with tattoo's (Zevran). He becomes her family, and as soon as the Darkspawn Threat is under control, she follows him to Antiva to kick his ass for being gone for so long. Malia... *sigh* She is SUPER close with Lydia, and despite being the younger of the two, she feels responsible for the other girl, especially since Lydia struggles with their father's death the most. Having no one older to share her magical talents with was difficult too and so Malia did her best to support and back up Lydia as much as she could. She struggled to connect with Carver, and they disagree on a lot of things, but they love each other despite it and they bond particularly closely during the battle of Ostagar, helping each other survive what was otherwise a slaughter of epic proportions. Malia adores Bethany, and coddles the younger girl, giving her anything and everything she can. She picked up pick-pocketing to buy Bethany birthday presents, and it's how she fond her way to learning a rogue's skill set. Malia does not get on with her mother, and often goes out of her way to annoy the woman so that Leandra will aim her vitriol at Malia instead of Lydia.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Where's their favourite place to be kissed? -- From @mrstethras A. Kita loves the tips of her ears being nibbled on, and the junction where neck becomes shoulder. Ghilana loves the back of her neck being kissed, especially once her hair grows out and Zev has to push it out of the way to reach it. Also kisses trailing down her spine. Malia ends up a shivering wreck if her hips and thighs get kissed, but also the palm of her hand while her eyes are locked with her lovers.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Your OC’s favourite pastimes when they're not gallivanting, murdering or hunting Dread Wolves? -- From @mrstethras A. For Kita; Running, Reading, and/or singing. Post Trespasser she's learning how to control using a god damned foci, and pretending to be dead, but that's an essay for another time Ghilana's favourite pastime used to be huntng... until she had to spend the whole blight hunting for their party since no one else knew how. How her favourite pastime is annoying Brair, and sitting quietly/stargazing, while Zev braids and/or plays with her hair. Malia's favourite pastime used to be pick pocketing the Templars and Chantry Sisters and redistributing the wealth amongst the citizens of Lothering. Once they reached Kirkwall, she enjoyed hanging out with her friends, and helping them with what they were doing, when she had time. Keeping the patients at Anders clinic entertained until he could see them. Helping Merrill go shopping. Helping Fenris rearrange the furniture in the mansion etc.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Name one regret of your OC’s? -- From @mrstethras A. Kita: Not going to Wycome herself and keeping her mother safe. Also, for not doing/saying/being enough so that Solas could feel he could trust her. Ghilana: Not insisting that she search for Tamlen. Ghilana regrets letting Duncan talk her into leaving with him immediately. Malia has lots of regrets, but the biggest one is that she didn't push Anders for more answers, when she knew the ingredients he'd collected were intrinsic components for an explosive.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between? -- From @randomfallout4posts and @silvanils A. For a modern Elf, Kita is Tall. She's on the upper end of the height range for MALE elves at 5'8.... having said that, it's one of the first things that draws her attention about Solas, he's one of the only elves she's ever met taller than her, and he's taller than her by a fair margin. // Kita is tall for a modern elf. Tall for a MALE modern elf. Ghilana is small, around 5'1 and slight. She can, almost literally, hide behind a tree. It helps with her stealth abilities, and her speed, but it's why she focused mainly on a bow to keep a distance from stronger opponents. Zev fixes that, telling her she needs to know how to defend herself, and teacher her to dual weild daggers. // Ghilana is average for a female modern elf, but she comes across as looking smaller because she's slight as well. Malia is average, around 5'6/7. A little taller than her older sister, but not by much. // Malia is average for a human female.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Has Varric given them a nickname? If yes what is it and how did they get it? -- From @this-basic-mage A. Varric HAS given Kita a Nickname ^_^ It's Satina! She's a night owl, and so often wanders Skyhold late. Plus her whole colour's/aesthetics are blues and silvers.... Satina is, also, canonically the name of Thedas' moon. Malia finds it hilarious the Varric calls her sister simply "Hawke" and it annoys Lydia no end when he starts giving Malia the nickname "Copper". She's considered a bit of a "bad penny" by many, especially whenshe spends a lot of her time in Darktown, and is known to be a prolific pickpocket, but Varric also chose the name because of the burnished copper undertones to her otherwise dark brown hair.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Pick any god from greek/norse pantheons for your o.c to "be" -- From @rivainisomniari A. I'm not sure I know enough about mythology off the top of my head to say for most of them. Kita has some Loki in her, with her playfulness and love of wolves (even before the whole Fen'Harel reveal, she's always admired the Emerald Knights) Ghilana would be Athena, goddess of the hunt. Owls for nightime and stargazing, and the stealth aspects of her character etc. Not sure who Malia would be. Is there a mythological god or goddess of chaos and disaster OTHER than Loki?

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Since the game has them: A tarot card for your o.cs. -- From @rivainisomniari A. After some research, I think Kita would be the High Priestess, meaning Intuitive, unconscious inner voice. Ghilana would be the Hierophant Reversed, meaning Rebellion, subversivness and new approaches. Malia would be the Tower, meaning sudden upheaval, broken pride, and disaster. Research Source: https://labyrinthos.co/blogs/tarot-card-meanings-list

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. What is it that drew y'all's OC’s to their LIs? -- From @bratwurstprophecy A. Tough one because it was me drawn to Solas before Kita was. I think it was the way Solas almost immediately told Cassandra that Kita couldn't have opened the breach. She read it as an elf defending an elf, a mage defending a mage, and it made her respect him very quickly. His opinions on the Dalish were painful but didn't surprise her. At the Keeper's first she's been to the meetings of the clans and knew how unwelcoming some of the other clans were towards outsiders, but it made her want to show him not all Dalish were like that... then she began talking magic and the fade and spirits with him, and a lot of his opinions on those aligned with what she'd always felt but had been told was wrong, and that was it, she was basically a goner. Ghilana was drawn to Zev, despite the fact he tried to kill her, because he was the first elf she'd seen since leaving her clan, and she figured he might be useful, help her hunt for the party (Ahahahhahaha). His warmth and easy going attitude though is what endeared him to her, he easily let her abrasiveness roll off him, and that was something she'd encountered only rarely and valued highly. Malia saw a lot of her sisters in Anders, a mage run ragged hiding from the Chantry, but still a kind soul wanting to help. She wanted to help him, to find a way to separate him from Justice so neither of them became corrupted in spite of their mutual good intentions. She can often seen the glimpses of the man he was before he merged with Justice, and while she loves him as he is, she wishes she could see more of the lighthearted and playful man he was before because it's those glimpses of gentle care and humor that draw her in like a moth to a flame.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. What's your OC's favorite food? -- From @randomfallout4posts A. For Kita Lavellan, an Elfroot based stew her mother used to make, and Lemon flavored frilly cakes from Val Royeux For Malia Hawke , she never thought she's miss it, but a simple ferelden vegetable pie brings back happier memories of family meals with her siblings and both her parents in their cosy kitchen in Lothering. Ghilana Mahariel used to love roasted rabbit, but she hunted and cooked so many of them during the 5th blight she now can't stomach the sight of them. She loves exploring antivan spices, and the different flavors they can make when being mixed together in different combinations, and on different meats, so although it's not a "food", Antivan Spices would be her answer.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. CAFFEINE. I must know what your ocs first reaction to coffee was. For inquisitors, their first taste was likely when Bull offers it in the Storm Coast, unless they came from noble roots and got lucky. -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita firmly believes that coffee is a creation of the gods. Perhaps Ghilan'nain. It finally means she can stay awake long enough to get through the stacks of paperwork that Josephine keeps leaving on her desk, and still have enough energy to go and fall asleep read a book on Solas' couch. Ghilana doesn't drink it, unless Zevran serves it up with a metric tonne of sugar, and at least half the cup being made up of milk. Malia Hawke takes coffee as part of her regular morning ritual, but only if she makes it herself. Too many times has she picked up her sister, Lydia’s, coffee, only to splutter on the strong taste of whiskey or rum that's been added to it.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. If you could use a song (or entire album if you like) to sum up one of your OCs in terms of personality and whatnot, or even just similar vibes, what would it be? -- From @bratwurstprophecy A. Kita Lavellan would get the Frozen 2 Soundtrack, but specifically "Into The Unknown" or "Show Yourself"

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. The most important oc / otp question: Who shares their thinmints and who tells the other to go heck off? -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita would share, and Solas would not. We know he has a sweet tooth! Between Malia and Anders, I think both of them would share. They both know what it's like to go without, and how a little treat can bring someone's mood up. As for Ghilana, Zev would spoil her with all sorts of exotic foods and sweet treats, and Ghilana would not share them (even if he asked) ;-)

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. If your oc was in a modern time (or if they're brave as heck in da times) do they have any (non-vallaslin) tats or piercings, and if so, where? -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita would not have a tattoo. Apart from the fact her mother really doesn't like them, Pre-Crestwood her Vallaslin are important and meaningful and she wouldn't want to take away from their importance by getting just 'another tattoo'. Post-Crestwood, when she knows that the Vallaslin were slave markings, she wouldn't want to be permanently marked in that way again. Ghilana does have other tattoo's besides her Vallaslin, all of which were done by Zevran. He has given her a vine that wraps around her ankle and curls up her leg with little symbols hanging from it, like charms, each charm marking an important event in their life together. Zev has also tattooed matching bands on their ring fingers, instead of wearing rings. Ghilana also has one ear pierced, to wear the earring Zev gave her during the 5th blight. It's the only piece of jewellery she regularly wears. Malia Hawke does not have any tattoo's or piercings. Her philosophy is that she does through enough pain without subjecting herself to more of it willingly.

><><><><><><><><><><

Q. Wood smoke or ocean breeze? -- From @lacrymosa-of-lavellan A. Kita hates the smell of the ocean. She got seasick on her way from the Freemarches to Ferelden, and the salt air always makes her feel a little queasy now. Woodsmoke on the other hand is food, and warmth and comfort and she misses the perfume of crackling pinewood. Ghilana has always loved woodsmoke smell, but when she travels with Zev and on her Grey Warden duties, she learns to love the smell of the ocean. Malia Hawke can take or leave woodsmoke. It's not terrible but after fleeing Lothering with the village burning behind her it has some difficult memories attached to the scent. Living in Kirkwall though, the fresh sea air waking her every morning was something she grew to love.

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age Origins #Dragon Age 2 #Dragon Age Inquisition #Dragon Age OC Asks #Beyond The Veil #Beyond The Veil Discord Server #Beyond The Veil OC Question Time #OC Question Time #OC Asks

8 notes · View notes

lukeleiahan · 5 years ago

Text

Bail Organa is not a ‘child stealer’

I just got a review on one of my fics, claiming that Bail Organa is “a certified child thief. Glorifying him feels wrong.“. Because the reviewer is on anon, I can’t answer that directly, but I’m pissed enough that I feel I should address this. Therefore, have a rant.

If Bail Organa is a child stealer, who did he steal Leia from? Honest question. Let’s go though it:

Padme Amidala, the biological mother. She’s dead.

Anakin Skywalker, the biological father. He literally just murdered a bunch of actual children, and therefore kinda permanently disqualified himself from being left alone with any child, much less parenting anyone. Then he attacked his wife, Leia’s mother, while she was heavily pregnant. Bail has to consider Leia’s safety here, not Anakin’s feelings, and Anakin after he has fallen is not at all a safe person for anyone to be around. Also, at that point, there is reason to believe he might be dead as well.

Shmi Skywalker, the biological paternal grandmother. Also dead.

Ruwal, Jobee and Sola Naberrie, the biological maternal grandparents and aunt. Alive, and capable of raising a child, but also the very first address Palpatine and/or Vader would look for if they went searching for Padme’s child. Especially with how thoroughly Palpatine planned his rise to Emperor, it would be a huge oversight not to watch the Naberries closely, which Bail as a former mentee of Palpatine’s and just in general a decent strategician would realize. Bringing Leia to them would be essentially presenting her to Palpatine on a silver platter.

Owen and Beru Whitesun Lars. The biological paternal step uncle and aunt. Alive, and capable of taking care of a child. At the point where Bail says he’s going to adopt Leia, there is a decent chance he doesn’t know they exist, though, Obi-Wan mentiones them only later. Also, they go on to raise Luke. It was Yoda and Obi-Wan who decided that the twins must be separated. Bail didn’t fight that, but well, Yoda and Obi-Wan were Jedi masters, and they had to protect the twins from two Sith, so it makes sense that he assumed they knew what they were talking about. So, leaving Leia with the Lars is also out.

And... that’s it. Those where the possibilities. You could argue the handmaidens, but we honestly speaking have to little on them canonically to know whether they would have wanted that/were that trustworthy/wouldn’t have been under just as much scrutiny as the Naberries.

Now, Bail Organa. He’s from what we can see in the movies one of Padme’s closest friends. If you add TCW into it, you even have a decent argument that he’s her best friend. He already knows pretty much all the dark secrets. He has a stable home to raise a child in, he’s willing to protect Leia. He wanted to adopt a child anyway, and as vice roy of Alderaan he’s capable of fudging some records so that Leia’s adoption doesn’t raise any red flags. He can and probably did tell her about Padme, if not as her biological mother then as his old friend. He hired Sabe, one of Padme’s first handmaidens and oldest friends as a governess, probably so that Leia can have even more of a connection to her biological mother without it raising any red flags.

And he and Breha do raise Leia wonderfully. She grows up loved, supported, a part of good, strong family. The young woman we see in the movies... she’s not that way because she is Anakin and Padme’s biological daughter. She’s that way because she’s Leia Organa, raised that way by Bail and Breha Organa. Sure, there are some traits that will be inhereted from her biological parents, I’d point to her anger and determination as things she got from Anakin and Padme respectively, but her morals? Her political mind? That’s Bail and Breha.

TLDR: Bail Organa did not steal Leia. He adopted a young girl who was orphaned, by death on her mother’s side and by choice of murdering children on her fathers. He and his wife Breha did an amazing job raising her. Nobody has time for your hate.

42 notes · View notes

griffinsandpeacocks · 5 years ago

Text

Shatter My Expectations And I’m Yours (Shatter Me, Lindsey Stirling Ft. Izzy Hale)

Dorian had a set pattern. He knew that pattern well. If it were a walked path it would be well worn as much as a favored path through the forest, or maybe the faded cobbles under a guard patrol. Yet even so that well known pattern was monotonous and dull even when it had exciting outcomes they were a short reprieve from that same slow turning pattern. He was getting dizzy left to spin in this cycle endlessly. He wasn’t alive anymore with the excitement that came with something considered taboo, now he was so well established in the little steps that it had lost all charm becuase it never lasted and would end only to start again with a new contestant.

He had no real light in his life. The one driving factor that kept him going was the passion to prove Tevinter could be great, and it need not use blood magic to be that way. It didn’t need constant power struggles, if it’s people could unite then they could prove every other nation wrong, they weren’t blood thirsty maleficar that bled slaves dry by the hundreds, they were a nation of great art, and strength that could prove mages need not be leashed like dogs. They could prove magic and mages specifically could add so much more to the world if treated as ordinary citizens and allowed their freedom. In fact the mages of the south had a much better chance of setting such an example... All they needed was the chance, but first this war and the crazed bastard from Chantry Myth had to be dealt with.

He’s reading and trying to find the connections they need when the elf walks up to him. At first Dorian doesn’t notice him but when he sits back pinching the bridge of his nose before rubbing at his temples and looks up, all he sees is the lean form of the archer. Alarion was standing back watching him with a soft smile on his face looking slightly concerned.

“Ah, Inquisitor, to what do I owe this visit?” Dorian says smiling and instantly masking his frustration and tiredness. Alarion isn’t fooled, in fact he rarely is. The archer was sharp eyed, even if his left was blind, he made up for it in his skill in observation. He rarely missed important details of the land around him and the minute shifts of a facial expression he was staring at. He’d learned Dorian’s facial expressions well. He’d done so with every person that followed him into danger. He even could tell you if Harding was nervous, or even if she was or wasn’t paying you actual attention rather than tuning you out. He could even give you pointers on what was giving away certain expressions. Josephine had even tested his skills out against masked Orlesian nobles. It was harder for him but he’d still hit more often than miss a mark. He was an empathetic passionate elf, who though he would focus on elves he often went out of his way to help everyone.

“I was wondering if you were holding up alright... And there’s an issue I wanted to discuss...” He looks uncertain and Dorian only remembers that expression a few times. When they’d traveled to that twisted future and again when they’d been about to come back. Though he hadn’t just been uncertain then, he’d looked horrified and angry as well. When he’d gone after Alexius Dorian was surprised he’d chosen to spare his life. Alarion had the mage on the ground a dagger at his neck and had chosen to just knock out the mage instead of kill him as the Fereldan king swept in. Upon seeing the elf he went from bristled and ready for conflict to rather calm waiting for the elf to decide the fate of the mages. Dorian had had no idea why until he latter learned the man had to Consorts both elves and both men. Both were talented rouges.

Alarion had decided to give the mages a second chance as allies, though made it expressly clear they would be around Templars they would need to work together with a semblance of civility and atop all of it, if they fucked up, as in one went and became an abomination, he’d cut them down personally if Templars didn’t first. Dorian later learned Alarion had had to kill his own sister after she’d fallen for an offer made by a demon of lust. The archer took no pride in the event but he was eerily comfortable when confronted by abominations. He’d cut it down rather than flinch. Though they’d learned those stories from a surviving clan member that had been dug out from The Temple.

Apparently the young elf had been only ten when he’d landed the killing shot on his sister. He’d been in the forest edging their camp when he’d heard the screams start. He’d taken aim and moved through the bushes and taken her down even as he recognized the tattered torn remains of her robes. He’d loosened the arrow in shock and had stopped her before bursting forward and loosing a second arrow that hit her heart. He’d known the rules of the clans, should one of their own fall into the temptations of demons the clan was responsible for putting down the corrupted mage and ending their suffering. Alarion had been confronted by Solas about this and the elf had frozen.

“I did not kill her out of hatred, spite or anger.” He had admit looking down. He placed a hand over his blind eye and looked up at everyone who’d tuned in curious and eager to know more about the elf most adored and some still hated or feared, this had been as they traveled to Skyhold, so it was bound to happen that some personal history would come out for the inner members of the newborn Inquisition.

“I killed her to end her suffering. Because I knew full well the reason she’d fallen was due to wanting to fix my eye. It was an accident she had felt responsible for that caused my to lose sight in it. Though I will never blame her... Even if it did lose my eye, if she had not done as she had I would have lost my life. Thus it was a small price to pay. She’d been looking for ways to cure the damage in the fade and a demon of lust had offered... She fell for the trap. I regret never thanking her for everything she had gone through... I was a child, but I was then seen as an adult. What better than to bear the mark of Falon’Din? I may as well wear the mark of Death.” He’d said then and Dorian had recalled how Solas had been quite in thought for quite some time after that and had looked lost in thought.

“You feel guilt on it then.” Solas had said and Alarion had tilted his head lowering his hand and shaking his head.

“Of a sort... I regret not being able to help support her like she clearly needed. Instead I was self absorbed in my own troubles, children no matter their race can be cruel and being partially blind made me an easy target. I feel nothing at the fact I was forced to kill her. I had a choice. Die, and let others die, or kill her before she could kill me or anyone else. I chose the path that had the least blood on it. I just wish their had been a path that would have spared the blood shed altogether. There probably was... I was just blind to it until it was too late and it had become overgrown.” Alarion had said eyes sad like they were now. Dorian watched the other and frowns.

“I’m holding up well enough I suppose, though this library has all manner of volumes on whether Divine Galatia took a shit on sunday I’m afraid it has little on accurate Tevinter histories. Which makes my job difficult.” He groused and the elf smiles but it fades quickly.

“I’m not sure you’ll like this but it is a distraction. Here read this, it’s a letter Mother Giselle received, I’m getting tired of that woman... Sorry, she said it was from your father.” He says and Dorian feels his nose flare as he gets agitated he stands taking the letter and reading it only to scoff. Alarion stands perfectly still and watches.

“I know my son? Pft, he could barely fill a thimble with what he knows about me! Typical... I’d be willing to bet this ‘retainer’ is merely a henchman hired to knock me over the head and drag me back off to Tevinter.” Dorian hisses and Alarion tilts his head curiously, his black hair falls off his shoulder and rests behind him in a fall of braids and lose hair.

“Could it be Venatori?” He asks and Dorian paused.

“Perhaps... Though this does look like my father’s penmanship. Or... He could have joined the Venatori... I doubt it but anything’s possible. Let’s go and meet this so called, ‘family retainer’, if it’s a trap we get out and kill everyone, you’re good at that, if not we send them back with a message for my father to stick his alarm in his wit’s end.” Dorian hissed and Alarion frowns and paused, he’d flinched, albeit only slightly, at being told what he was good at, he may have shrugged it off and embraced it in the most literal way he could but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. Unless the one dying was a waste of air. Then he might get some satisfaction out of sticking an arrow in their eye.

“Bad blood between you?” He asks and Dorian snickers a cringe on his face as he grimaced a slight grin.

“Interesting turn of phrase... Let’s just say we have disagreements on my choices and me with theirs.” Dorian says evasively. Alarion frowns.

“Like not getting married or leaving Tevinter?” The elf asks and Dorian shrugs.

“Two of many other things.” He says and Alarion knows he’ll get no where so shrugs.

“Let’s go see what this is all about then.” Alarion says, he paused and looks back at Dorian with his good eye.

“Should I have any others with us? I’d say we should at least have Bull and Varric along, we could even bring Cole. Help us get a read on everything?” He says and Dorian paused.

“Cole and Bull are fine... Varric might use this as an excuse to write in daddy issues to my long list of character traits.” Dorian sighs and Alarion smiles and huffs a soft laugh.

“Alright, let’s gather them up and ride out.” He says and they walk out and over to Herald’s Rest both ignoring the Mother that watches with a frown and disapproving stare.

“Bull, come on I have a mission I need you for, I’m grabbing Cole and we’ll head out.” Alarion says and Bull nods and stands up from the slouch he’d been in and Dorian waits knowing the other’s watching him and picking apart every little hint Dorian is unintentional putting out that he’s pissed.

“Something have you in a tiff, Dorian.” Bull says and Dorian growls.

“Someone rather.” He snaps and Bull blinks looking a bit more directly at Dorian trying to find what’s getting his fuse so short. Alarion comes down and he’d asked Cole not to try helping Dorian quite yet. They all head out at fast as they can for Redcliff. Going into the Gull and Lantern it’s empty just Dorian and Alarion, Bull and Cole wait outside. The elf sees someone move before Dorian does. His green eyes narrow and his hands slide behind him one hand on a dagger the other silently clipping the strap keeping the blade in the sheath. Anyone who saw him, and didn’t know him, would just think he had his hands behind him in a respectful pose.

“No one here... This doesn’t bode well...” Dorian sighs and Alarion steps closer to say something keeping his eyes on the figure but they speak before he can.

“Dorian.” It’s just his name but Dorian feels anger course through him, he knows that voice and it makes his guts turn to ice. Though it oddly brings a tiny glimmer of hope. Foolish as it was.

“Father.” Alarion drops his hands to his sides blinking at the man and then looking at Dorian.

“So an elaborate smoke screen..? Why?” Dorian snaps steeling his irritation.

“Then you were told...” Alarion sneers.

“I don’t like having my friends walk into possible traps blind, a shocker that.” Alarion spits hands clenching as he can practically feel the unease radiating off Dorian.

“I apologize, Inquisitor, I never intended for you to be involved.” He says and Alarion steps up to stand at Dorian’s side.

“You wanted him with that hag that doesn’t care for him you mean.”The elf hissed and Dorian looks over at the elf and sets a hand on his lower back which makes the elf step a bit back and just glower at Halward while a sneer seems to permanently fix itself to his face. Dorian can’t blame him seeing how that disgusted look shows on his fathers face even if barely.

“Of course not, the Great Magister Pavus couldn’t be seen with the dread Inquisitor, what would people say?” Dorian snaps as his head turns back to his father. He might freeze in fear when he might have a chance at someone for more than just a night of mutual pleasure but against his father, his temper peaks.

“What exactly is this, father? Ambush, kidnapping, touching family reunion?” Dorian snarls and Alarion keeps his eye on the man he’s steadily wanting to fire arrows at. Countless arrows. He’d run out of arrows. Several times.

“It has always been like this...” Who the idiot is appealing to Dorian is unsure given he’s certain Alarion wants to tear his father into little pieces and scatter them through the Wastes.

“Considering you lied to get him here? I wonder why he would be angry?” Alarion scoffs. Dorian piviots keeping himself facing towards his father slightly but looking at the elf.

“You don’t know the half of it! Though... Perhaps you should.” He says thoughtfully and Halward clearly grows uneasy.

“Dorian, there is no need-” Dorian looks up and sneers before looking back at the elf.

“I prefer the company of men, my father disproves.” He says and Alarion paused brain almost blowing smoke out of his ears as several images run through his mind of Dorian in several questionable posses and positions on top or under men of varying races, stature and looks. Though a popular one seems to be himself.

“Ah... I’ve heard a bit about that... And I prefer the same.” Alarion clears his throat and glanced away flushing slightly and Dorian smirks.

“I should have known that’s what this was about.” Halward sneers and Dorian immediately gets back to spitting like an angry cat.

“No. You don’t get to make assumptions, you know nothing about the Inquisitor.” Dorian snarls. Alarion feels that blush get worse and almost wants to just drag him back to Skyhold and see exactly what Dorian preferred.

“This isn’t what I wanted.” The man gripes and Alarion snorts as if he could care what this bastard wanted. He’d known him all of maybe five minutes and wanted him to become a demented pincushion.

“I’ve never been what you wanted, forgotten that already?” Dorian spits sneering and Alarion sighs.

“Then that’s a big deal in Tevinter?” He asks and Dorian shakes his head and looks back at the elf.

“If you want to live up to impossible standards. Every Tevinter family is inter marrying to distill the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader. Which means ever perceived flaw, ever aberration, is deviant and shameful, it must be hidden.” Dorian snarls and Alarion winced. Every flaw is stacked against you, pressure slowly fracturing your mask no matter how carefully constructed.

“That’s what this is about?” The elf asks softly hating the fact the two were so far apart though he hates the older vint he also hates seeing children with such poor ties to their parents when he never knew his.

“Who you sleep with?” He asks and Dorian scoffs.

“Not all of it.” He says and Alarion shakes his head confused.

“Dorian if you’d just listen..”

“Why? So you can spout more convenient lies? He taught me to hate blood magic, ‘The resort of the weak mind’, those were his words. Yet the first thing you turn to when your precious heir refuses to play pretend the rest of his life? You try to change me!” Dorian is pacing now having gotten in his father’s face before retreating looking at the other man his pain is almost palpable. Alarion goes rigid. This fucking bastard did what to Dorian? Alarion hasn’t felt possessive in his life, but he’s beginning to understand what it might feel like.

“I only wanted what was best for you.” Halward tries to appeal but neither of the two in the tavern with him buy it or care. Dorian says what both of them are thinking.

“You wanted what was best for you! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that.” Dorian looks upset now and all the elf wants is to hold the mage. Dorian just feels so trapped and lonely like he’s just spinning in the dark. Alarion moves so he’s standing between the two and takes a deep breath. There’s the smallest chance the man is wanting to reconnect and at least try and fix his relationship with his son.

“Don’t leave it like this Dorian... I may not like this prick, but... I can see the pain. Just a try.” He says softly. Dorian looks at him and nods. He walks up to Halward. Alarion stands back but is still ready to rip the older human apart.

“Tell me why you came.” Dorian says calmly or at least he is a bit more calm than he had been.

“If I knew I’d drive you to the Inquisition..” Dorian shakes his head and moves back a step.

“You didn’t. I joined becuase it’s the right thing to do. Once I had a father who would have know that.” Dorian turns and starts to walk to the door.

“Once I had a son that trusted me... A trust I betrayed.” Dorian paused turning to look back.

“I only wanted to hear his voice again... To talk to him and ask he forgive me.” Halward says softly and Dorian looks at Alarion who only slightly inclines his head. He sees the deep need in Dorian to fix this one burnt bridge in his past since his others were all beyond repair. The elf would do everything in his power to help the other. Alarion moves to the door and keeps it open barely a crack and waits there listening like a hawk for any sound of a scuffle or sound that isn’t hushed talking. When the mage exits he’s silent and they spend the ride back to Skyhold like that.

“He says we’re alike. Too much pride... Once I would have loved to hear that. Now... I’m not so certain... I don’t know if I can forgive him.” Dorian says staring out the window of his nook and Alarion watches him wanting to comfort the mage and woefully uncertain how.

“How’d he try to change you?” The elf asks softly.

“He was desperate. I wouldn’t play the part and marry the girl, keep everything unsavory locked away and private. Selfish, not wanting to spend my life screaming on the inside. He was going to preform some blood ritual. Alter my mind and make me... Acceptable. I found out and left.” Dorian says and Alarion feels ice run through him and he moves closer subconsciously knowing blood magic and demons were powerful enough that this was fairly possible.

“Are you alright?” He asks and the mage looks back and shakes his head looking back out the window.

“No. Not really.” He says softly. All the elf wants to do is hug the man.

“What he did was wrong.” The elf states stern and certain. Dorian shrugs.

“I think he knows that. Just struggles admitting it.” He says and Alarion can see why... Admitting a mistake was hard especially when they were proud and the Pavus family seemed to have that in spades.

“He’s a good man deep down... My father. Taught me how important principle is, he cares for me in his way. He’ll just never change.” Dorian sighs and Alarion shakes his head and swallows.

“Maybe you’ll work through it, see eye to eye.” He says though he wants to offer to kill the man. Dorian looks back at him with a slight half smile though it’s flat.

“You’re very optimistic, it’s charming really.” He says and Alarion smiles back feeling just as worn thin.

“Maker knows what you must think of me now after that display.” Dorian says as he walks up to Alarion who looks up at him feeling a sudden lightening rush over his whole form.

“I’ll never think less of you. If it were possible I think more of you.” Alarion states certain to his core and Dorian chuckles looking amused and fond at him and butterflies are dancing in his chest.

“My father never understood.. Living a lie it festers in you like a poison. You have to fight for what’s in your heart.” Dorian says fire and conviction in his whole form. Alarion feels it spread to him and speaks before he can think.

“I agree.” And he leans up as Dorian leans down to him and the kiss is like fire he never wants to stop. Dorian pulls back though.

“I didn’t think you’d enjoy playing with fire, Inquisitor...” He teases grinning stepping back into his safe pattern even as he wants to shatter it and burn. Damn all the consequences with the elf looking at him like he wants nothing more than him back in another kiss. He’s so terribly afraid... If he messes up he’ll fall hard. He doesn’t want to hurt like that.

“Anyway, time to drink myself into a stupor. That kind of day. Join me sometime if you’ve a mind.” Dorian says and Alarion smiles and nods and walks with the mage drinking with him and walking Dorian to his bed when the man is drunk and stumbling. He goes back to the bar after and joins Bull explaining it all and getting absolutely pissed laughing hysterically as Krem tells some ridiculous story of an old job involving tar and feathers. In the morning he wakes up curled up on Bull.

“Morning.” The Qunari says grinning as the elf goes white as a sheet.

“Not sore... Nothing happened I hope?” He asks and Bull shakes his head.

“Nah, I got morals, you were too trashed to leave alone. So... You have it hard for the vint?” He asks and Alarion looks away and curls back up.

“I want to make him happy... I want to skin his father. He’s sweet and soft under that bluster I’ve seen it... I want so much but he’s from a place that taught him it’s a shameful thing to love another man... His own father turned on him for it. Mine died protecting me and my sister. I don’t understand why family would do that.” Alarion sighs and Bull hmms.

“You’ve got work ahead of you then. He’s all tied up and content keeping those ties tight.” Bull says and Alarion hums thoughtfully.

“Let him set the pace.” He says and gets up thanking Bull he goes and the Qunari waves. Over the next weeks the elf shadows the mage and showering every hint he can making every advance and he is glowing when Dorian circles him in his rooms. He get’s flushed as Dorian purrs in his ear and Alarion pulls the mage into a kiss hungry and wanting everything Dorian will give.

“I want everything you’re willing to give me Dorian... I want you to be happy and I definitely want to be part of your life if you’ll have me.” Dorian paused in shock then just kisses the elf so very glad he’d let this elf in and shatter his walls and now there was this brilliant burning, bright light shining for him burning away everything and giving him someone to fall into.

#GET UP & WRITE!#GET UP & WRITE! July #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age inquisition #elf inquisitor #alarion lavellan #Dorian Pavus #dorian x lavellan #inquisitor x dorian #dorian has issues

2 notes · View notes

sassyseeker · 5 years ago

Text

Sometimes when I’m reading fanfic I start having ideas that grow on their own. Like, I am reading a MGiT au now and started imagining Solas with a non-inquisitor, secretly future-knowing character, in the Inquisition. Solas knows she is from another world and knows some stuff that will happen in Thedas, but not that she knows his secret. From here on, it diverges completely from the story to the point it distracts my reading. In my mind mc is head over heels with Solas and in private she showers him with kisses, gives him gifts and sweets, serenades him, likes to hold his hand and cuddle and caress him, to be understanding and say supportive words that almost reach deep. He is still not committed though, he’s undecided, flattered but not used to her kind of affection, not sure it’s a good idea to indulge. He doesn’t see himself as someone who deserves such adoration. He is still suspicious of the world, himself and her. After Wisdom died, she declared her love and is ready to go all in. He desires her but does not want to have sex before she knows of his past and he can’t tell now. She says it’s okay, she knows he is the Dread Wolf. But it’s not a relief to hear. He asks why. Why she didn’t tell them, tell him? Was she going to blackmail him later? Was she hoping to gain his favor, to manipulate him? Perhaps blackmail was plan B? She says no, she tells him all she knew from the start and how she loved him even before coming to Thedas. He sort of believes her. Then he asks if she chose him from among all the others because she wanted the most powerful partner she could get. Did she like him for being godlike? Did she hope to conquer him, to wrap an evanuris around her little finger with her attentions? Did that make her feel powerful? Did she see a life of privilege and luxury with him in her future? She doesn’t know what to say, she came to love and accept all of him, the parts that are powerful and godlike, they’re part of who he is and yes, she loves it too, she can’t deny. Would she love him without it? She thinks so but it also seems so out of character, so unexpectedly how could she know the answer to that? He says he was actually happy that she seemed to love the humble apostate before because he had nothing to give, so it should be true. Instead she is just a child, with childlike notions and the same selfish desires that are so commonly expected from her pitiful race. She has no words to defend herself from the pile of assumptions quickly growing. He tells her to go away and not look for him again, maybe the Inquisitor can still be second-best replacement. She knows he means it.

(Just a heads up that the ending is not happy 😔)

She cried her eyeballs out for two days, until her tears dried, and stayed in her room. She wouldn’t say what happened to the Inquisitor. Cole can’t defend her before Solas because she doubts herself, so he sticks around for comfort with mc, where the pain is greater. Solas suffered the first night, wondering if he judged her wrong. When memories of her gestures of affection threatened to come again the second night, he shut them down. It is easier for him to fall back into his usual rhythm, it is the way it should be and now he can focus completely on his goal. At least he was right and will not mourn the death of this world. Bull, Varric and other observant companions know Solas is involved with mc’s breakdown, they give him a large berth and he is happy with it anyway. She doesn’t tell his secret and he remains in the Inquisition but they don’t see each other. She only goes on travels when he’s not. Solas leaves after Corypheus’s defeat. Cullen courts mc to no avail, some Orleasian nobles and common folk too, she is not interested. When she decides to open her heart again, it’s to somebody who will never doubt her feelings. In time, the spirit of Love crosses the veil to finally be with her. He takes the form of an Elvhen man to please her, with a head full of hair. He doesn’t have a coin but she is happy to provide for him with her savings from the Inquisition. They buy a small but comfortable house in a place of their choosing. Solas is curious and cannot contain himself from seeking this Love spirit in the fade. Love does not care for him. The couple did not join the allies army when the war with Sola’s forces started. They joined no side but were thrown in the middle of it regardless. A skirmish near their home takes the life of Love, as he is shot in the crossfire, trying to protect mc and other civilians. She weeps so loud, so desperate and mournfully, both sides make silence and quietly go home. Mc was not heard of after that. Solas tore the Veil down. There were few survivals. The humans who survived do not like him. The elfs who survived realized how close they came to death, how lucky they were, and they do not like him. The elvhen who were woken from uthenera never asked for it, they don’t like the state of the world, don’t like that they were forcefully tasked with fixing it now and they do not like him. The evanuris do not like him. They are weak and will remain so for a very long time, since Solas was thorough to gather all the remaining power in the land before undoing the Veil. They are too weak to kill Solas. Solas is strong, but not enough to take all the evanuris down or to rebuild Elvhenan without help. If he were to attempt uthenera, it would be a matter of who would be the first to find and kill him for what’s left of his power. Solas goes to a gathering of his people in a public place. They disagree, many despise him, they argue and somebody pushes him to the ground. Somebody else spits on him before they all disperse. Solas stays lying there for a long time. After what feels like days, maybe weeks, an old woman in a cloak gives him water and pets his head, humming to herself, until he gets his bearings again. She helps him up. Before she can leave, he insists on why she did it. Doesn’t she know who he is? She doesn’t speak but after a while a word comes out: Vhenan. That voice… He removes the hood and it is mc indeed. Her eyes seem blind, she is not old but weak, everything about her reeks of neglect, she’s almost unrecognizable. She starts walking again and he follows to what is left of her house. There he cries and takes her to his abode. He closes himself to the rest of the world, decided to help her recover. He bathes her, clothes her, feeds her, puts her to sleep. He calls her by her name, she seems to react to that sometimes. He asks, “who am I?” She says “Vhenan”, and he smiles, laughs and embraces her, raining kisses on her head. He likes to watch her humming to herself. She starts to recover very slowly. Her eyes are bright and focusing again, she is not blind. Doesn’t talk much though. One day he puts her on his lap and asks again who he is. “Vhenan.” “And why is that?” He hoped to hear it’s because she still loves him, eventually, but her response is: because “love never dies.” She repeats the words a few times, confusion and pain in her face, big tears start forming. He is mortified and changes the subject, trying to distract her. She continues to get better and speak more. She no longer needs help with personal matters like bathing, dressing or making her own bed. He doesn’t ask who he is, but calls her vhenan himself instead. She asks what place that is and why he is helping her. He kneels at her feet, crying, says that once he did her wrong and he is sorry. He did many wrongs that he cannot change, so “please, please vhenan. Let me help you, let me fix this, right the wrong that I did to you, please, I beg you.” She looks out the window, pets his head and hums until he calms down. She undoes a knit piece in her room and tries to knit it again with a wooden stick. He brings her what knitting material he manages to find and it’s her favorite pastime. He did not know she could do it before. There’s probably a whole lot he never got to know about her. She remembers his name. She starts to look at him curiously, suspiciously. When she refuses to cuddle on his lap, he doesn’t insist. One day she asks “Solas, why do you call me vhenan?” He says he was her vhenan once, hoping she will remember. After thinking for a while, she replies “You were ma vhenan but you did not love me back.” He wants to deny, to say that he did but the guilt of the memory of how he dismissed her back then holds the words in his throat. She breaks the silence: “You’ll never cease to be vhenan to me,” she pats his hand in a consoling gesture. “You’re just not mine/ma (vhenan).” She goes back to her knitting and he leaves, feeling miserable. When they are taking a walk together on the garden, Love’s wisps approach her. They are drawn to her as she is drawn to them. Solas takes a step back but keeps watching. They communicate and she says out loud: “Look Solas, Love does not die, it changes when necessary…” He wants to take her inside and hide her, but it would be useless. Love’s wisps want her to follow and he lets her, but follows behind them. They go a long way into old, powerful territory. Solas is not into their private communication. Mc turns to him and says: “I want you to know that I really loved you, my friend. I cared for you deeply. Even though it may have started for less than noble reasons, you were truly cherished. I am sorry.” He nods bitterly, “I am sorry as well.” He watches them together for some time and is about to ask her to come home when something changes. A bright light covers her form and great amounts of power are displaced. When he can see again, her form is vanishing into colorful wisps that dance happily around Love’s. They spin together through the air until their matters join and shape into the form of a new spirit. Forgiveness is born. Solas searches for any clues on the place of Forgiveness’s birth. He consults his annotations, the Vir Dirthara and his spirit friends. He befriends categories of spirits he is not used to interacting with, that’s when he has a breakthrough. Finally, he goes to that same place of power. He concentrates to separate spirit from matter, liberating the rest of the power he accumulated back to the source, away from his peers’s grasp. A bright light envelops him and… The wisps float aimlessly until an unknown force drives them together… A new spirit is born, quickly greeted by another called Forgiveness, who was nearby and witnessed its formation. The new spirit’s nature is Regret.

(why do I do this to myself) (the worst is, I wrote this before and tumblr simply lost it, “oops, we don’t know what happened.” I was tired but also pissed so here it is again, but now it’s even longer -__-) (guess I can go back to reading my fic now)

#please don't read if you're sad #I'm sorry #I made Solas suffer but I suffered with him #sometimes I think about fluffy stuff too #I'm writing one of those #maybe it will see the light of day #cause it's bigger than this one #why is angsty stuff easier to make up #should I be worried :x #fanfic #ish?

12 notes · View notes

for-the-dales · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 11: Blackwall

Chapter 1 (Leliana): https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/185692342364/the-path-forward-chapter-1-leliana

The old Warden sat on a rock staring out at the ragtag camp shivering in the snow and sharpened his sword. He had been doing this for the past hour.

The survivors of the attack milled around the camp trying to stay busy, but no one really knew what to do one minute to the next. No one knew what to do past the next few hours either.

It was a mess.

The temperature was falling with the sun but Blackwall barely noticed. He knew he should be down there trying to help the others, but if he was honest with himself he didn’t know if he had really processed what had happened either.

The Herald of Andraste, the greatest hope for saving Thedas, was dead.

When she had burst into the Chantry carrying a wounded Flissa, Blackwall had allowed himself to hope that they would all find a way out of this mess. Her armor was scorched and she had a nasty cut on her forehead, but she was alive. He had been gathering up the children to make sure they were all accounted for when he saw Cullen approach her. Blackwall couldn’t hear what they were saying and the little dwarven girl, Felicity, was tugging on his armor and crying. Blackwall turned away from the Herald a moment to comfort the child before turning back to watch what was happening at the front of the Chantry.

He saw Lady Lavellan’s face fall and his blood ran cold.

It only lasted a moment before she set her face again with a look of determination. She said a few more things to Cullen before she turned and started walking towards the door again. Cullen said called after her and Blackwall ran after them. She stopped just short of the door before turning to Cullen and saying, “I’m not going to ask anyone to come with me.”

Blackwall didn’t know what the mission was, but he was ready, “Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to ask my lady. What’s the plan?”

Lady Lavellan’s eyes softened as she looked at the grizzled old warrior, “I appreciate the offer Ser Blackwall, but you don’t have to come with me on this one.”

Bull and Sera approached then and Bull asked, “Come where? You got a plan to get out of this mess boss?”

Lady Lavellan’s eyes scanned the three of them sadly with a set line in her mouth before nodding, “There is a way to evacuate everyone in the Chantry.”

“Great!” barked Sera, “What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!”

Lady Lavellan sighed and smiled sadly, “Someone needs to buy time. It’ll very likely be a one way trip.”

The small gathering went quiet and Cullen stared at the ground with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a harsh line. Blackwall began to open his mouth when Sera interrupted, “I said what I said. What are we waitin' for?”

The younger elf stood as tall as she could and put her fists on her hips, but Blackwall could see them shaking slightly. Lady Lavellan could see it too and for a moment it looked like she might cry. Bull looked over Sera’s head to Blackwall and nodded, and Blackwall nodded back.

Suddenly Blackwall hear Sahren call out behind him, “Raj’ha’haren, what’s the plan?”

Sahren marched up to them with Rasa as his shadow. Lady Lavellan’s face went hard as stone and she took a moment before saying in a firm voice, “We have a plan to hold off the dragon, but I need the two of you to help Commander Cullen evacuate the civilians. We’ll catch up to you.”

Sahren nodded like the good soldier he was, but his twin scrutinized their mentor’s face. Lady Lavellan turned away before Rasa could decipher anything. Blackwall understood worrying about everyone serving under you knowing everything, he also knew she was making a mistake.

Not that Blackwall had a leg to stand on when it came to leadership.

Sahren turned on his heel, pulling his twin with him. Lady Lavellan nodded and said, “Right, we don’t have any time to waste.” She turned to Commander Cullen, “Are you ready to move out.”

Cullen gave a curt nod, “Yes my lady.”

“Good, you’d best get going. It’s best if you slip out quietly I think.”

Blackwall saw Solas out of the corner of his eyes watching the small party intently before turning and walking away. Blackwall went to get his gear when Felicity caught his eye and smiled. Blackwall smiled back and waved before donning his sword and shield. She made a funny face at the old soldier and he crossed his eyes. The child giggled as she was dragged away by an older woman trying to corral all the children.

Blackwall decided he was comfortable with dying today. He would be following a worthy commander for once in his life. He would be saving those children.

He would be doing something right.

He joined the others at the entrance of the Chantry. Bull was discussing tactics with Lay Lavellan and Sera was checking her arrows. He knew it was what she did when she was nervous. He lowered his voice further and said, “You know, I think you’ll earn a beard for this.”

Sera looked confused for a moment before barking out a laugh, “Yeah? You gonna give me one of yours?”

“I may,” Blackwall said seriously, “but just the one.”

Sera laugh again as Lady Lavellan approached them asking, “Ready?”

Sera grew quiet and bobbed her head. Lady Lavellan looked at Blackwall and he nodded sharply. The Herald nodded back at the two of them and said, “Well then. Let’s get going.”

She pulled out her staff and Bull pulled out his massive cleaver and set his shoulder against the door.

“Okay,” The qunari said, “I’m gonna open this door, the boss is gonna blast whatever is outside back as far as she can, then Blackwall needs to take point and keep them back while the boss and Sera get through the door. After that I’ll get the door closed which Cullen will barricade behind us. Then I’ll cover the boss’s right and Blackwall you’ll cover her left. Sera, you provide support and make sure we don’t get surprised by anything. We need to get to the trebuchet that’s still standing and hurl something big and heavy at the mountain. Everyone got that?”

Everyone nodded. Blackwall noticed that Cassandra had gotten most of the people out of the main hall and was arguing with Cullen. They both looked up and Cullen nodded while Cassandra’s face fell in horror. Cullen must have just filled her in, he was holding Cassandra’s arm.

Lady Lavellan commanded quickly, “Bull now.”

Bull heaved the door open and everything began to move much faster. Fire erupted from Lady Lavellan’s staff, throwing back the few red templars patrolling past the door. Blackwall charged forward and slammed his shield into a knight that had kept his footing. He heard Lady Lavellan and Sera run out behind him and he saw vines spring from the ground and hold down a footsoldier still on the ground as an arrow struck the head of another starting to get up. The heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind them and Blackwall could faintly hear Cassandra yelling angrily on the other side of them, but they were drowned out by the screams of the footsoldier being held down as Bull’s axe came down across his torso.

The four of them slowly worked their way through Haven and towards the trebuchet, but the soldiers never seemed to stop coming. A group of four knights jumped over a section of crumpled wall, cutting them off. He glanced to his right and saw the grim set of Bull’s face. Lady Lavellan began to cast a barrier spell to try and give them all an edge.

Blackwall hadn’t seen the shadow warrior coming up behind the Herald.

Everything seemed to slow as he saw the creature bring up it’s twin blades right behind her. Blackwall wasn’t close enough to do anything and Sera hadn’t noticed it. Blackwall cried out for her to look out, but then the creature froze.

Lady Lavellan turned quickly and was greeted by an icy blade less than an inch from her face. Then the knight furthest back in the group crumpled to the ground without warning.

Rasa stood behind him with their bloody knives drawn and mockingly bowed to their mentor before spinning away towards the next knight. Sera and Bull jumped back in to help the rogue. Solas strolled up next to Lady Lavellan and twisting his staff in a precise movement, shattering the shadow.

Solas smiled at the other elf, “I didn’t think you’d want them coming on their own. I convinced Sahren to go ahead to rondevu point.”

“You convinced Sahren to do something?” Lady Lavellan asked, smiling back.

“I can be very charming.”

Lady Lavellan smiled at him in a way that made Blackwall feel like he was prying. He turned back to the battle and helped Rasa bring down a knight. He felt heat behind him and turned to see Lady Lavellan torching the last one while Solas kept it down with some unseen force.

Blackwall huffed behind them, “Phew, smells like Sera’s cooking.”

Sera held her nose, “Ugh, it does.”

Rasa glided up to Lady Lavellan’s other side and bumped her shoulder lightly. Lady Lavellan turned to them and murmured to them so quietly Blackwall could barely hear her, “You do what I say, when I say.”

Rasa nodded curtly.

The party continued forward to the trebuchet. When they arrived it was blessedly clear of enemies. There was already a stone loaded into the contraption.

There were a lot of dead soldiers around its base.

Lady Lavellan stared at the young faces. The oldest was the furthest out, likely having led the charge to defend the trebuchet. At the base was a boy who couldn’t have been older than fourteen. His unblemished sword lay near him. His face was frozen in agony.

Blackwall laid a hand on the Herald’s shoulder, “There’s nothing you can do for them now. But we can still help those they loved.”

Lady Lavellan nodded and strode forward to the trebuchet and Blackwall followed. The others set up a defensive line around the perimeter in case any more templars appeared. Lady Lavellan grunted in effort as she pushed against the large wheel to turn the trebuchet. She was a strong woman, but mages rarely had cause to build physical strength.

Blackwall whispered softly next to her, “If I may be of assistance Herald?”

Lady Lavellan looked up at him and smiled before nodding. Blackwall took position next to her and began to turn the wheel with her. A few templar stragglers approached while they worked, but they were nothing that the others couldn’t handle. When the massive machine was finally aimed Blackwall took a step back to look at the mountain it would hit. The bright and cold snow stared down at him, and for the first time since he had walked out of the Chantry this evening Blackwall felt a little fear crawl up his spine.

Lady Lavellan stared with him for a moment before turning to address the others, “All right, I’m going fire this and then we run. If we move fast enough we should be able to reach the Chantry and get into the hidden tunnel before the avalanche reaches us. Be ready to move. Leave anything weighing you down here if you can live without it.”

The others nodded and began to prepare themselves. Blackwall removed his shield and placed it on the body of the young boy. Blackwall knew what the odds were of them all reaching the Chantry in time, but the Herald had a way of speaking with confidence that made it sound more likely than it really was. She believed they would make, so he would believe her.

The Herald still stood next to him and spoke to him quietly so the others wouldn’t hear, “Blackwall, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything my lady.” Blackwall responded, meaning it with every bone in his body.

“I need you to stay with Rasa, make sure they make it to the Chantry. No matter what else happens. Can you do that?”

Blackwall studied the woman in front of him, seeing uncharacteristic fear on her face. Anyone else, Blackwall included, would have felt fear first and foremost for themselves. But not her.

Never her.

No, she feared for the safety of her companion, the rogue Blackwall suspected she looked at as her own child. The warrior remembered another time he saw that fear in a woman’s eyes.

When he had been the cause.

The boundless guilt of his past crept through him and gripped his heart like a claw. He swallowed hard and nodded, “I will protect them with my life.”

Lady Lavellan smiled softly and looked just a little bit lighter than she had a moment before and grip on his heart loosened slightly. He would do this for her.

Blackwall watched her walk up the platform to inspect the winch before he turned to join the others. Rasa waited impatiently furthest out, their eyes scanning the tree line for any enemies that may approach. There was still an army marching towards them.

Blackwall coughed to announce his presence, “We should stay with the others Ser.”

Rasa scanned the treeline one more time before turning back and nodding. Blackwall waited for them to walk past him before following. They rejoined the others where Iron Bull and Solas were discussing the best possible routes back to the Chantry while Sera nervously paced back and forth. Rasa walked far more casually than the situation warranted up to Sera and rocked back on their heels. Sera glanced at the other rogue curiously.

Rasa leaned over to Sera and said, “Ten gold says I can beat you back to the Chantry.”

Blackwall groaned and Sera barked out a laugh, Iron Bull scoffed and said, “Those are rookie odds. I bet forty Sera wins.”

“Oi!” Sera shouted, “What’s my share of that?”

“Half of course.”

Sera shrugged, “I suppose, it’s not like your fat arse could really compete anyway.”

“Hey, my fat ass has pulled you out plenty of tight spots.”

Blackwall couldn’t help but grin. He glanced over at Solas and his grin fell. The oldest elf in their company didn’t smile or laugh. He hadn’t chosen to forget the real stakes.

No one heard the roar before it was too late.

The massive black and red beast crashed into the ground with such force Blackwall was thrown back against one of the remaining walls surrounding Haven. As soon as his vision cleared he searched for the others. Iron Bull was helping up Sera and Solas stood next to them. Rasa had fallen next to them and Blackwall ran to help them up. He glanced around and realized one of their company was missing.

The Herald.

His head whipped over to where the trebuchet still stood.

On the other side of the dragon.

Lady Lavellan caught his eye. She looked a little shaken, but uninjured. Her eyes slid from him to the elf he was holding up and her eyes widened. Blackwall couldn’t hear her over the roar of the dragon and the ringing in his ears but sudden determination in her eyes and her mouthed word made her orders clear.

Run.

Rasa could barely stand but tried to fall forward toward the Herald and cried out, “Mae!”

For the briefest of moments Blackwall could see Lady Lavellan’s eyes shine and crinkle before his view was obstructed by the beast. Time seemed to slow as he came to his decision. He grabbed the rogue and tossed them over his shoulder. He looked at Iron Bull whose eye was tight as he nodded. He pulled Sera along as she yelled and spat at him. Solas didn’t look at him and just stared at the dragon. His mouth was slightly open as his eyes flitted around, his fingers tightening and loosening. It was likely only seconds had passed, but it felt like hours before Solas finally turned and followed after Iron Bull with Blackwall tailing him. Rasa was still screeching and beating at him, but their likely broken leg kept them from wriggling too much.

Blackwall heard another voice for the briefest moment on the other side of the dragon before he was out of earshot. When the group reached the top of the hill just outside the Chantry doors they heard the trebuchet fire. Blackwall spared a moment to turn and watch the boulder hit the mountain side.

Exactly where he and the Herald had planned for it to go.

The snow began to slide down the slope and the sight spurred him to move again. Solas had opened the doors and slammed them shut as soon as Blackwall and Iron Bull had gotten the other elves through. The rest of the journey to catch up with the rest of the Inquisition was silent. Blackwall still had to carry Rasa but the rogue had gone startling silent. Sera had screamed and yelled for a while before she too seemed to run out of energy.

They were all alone to grapple with what they had done.

Blackwall had to grapple with what he had done.

He had left Andraste’s Herald to die.

He had abandoned her.

He looked down at Rasa in his arms and tried to remember that she had asked him to keep them safe. He had just been keeping his promise.

That didn’t make the guilt’s vice grip on his heart loosen.

Now he sat on a rock overlooking the camp, as useless as he had been when the dragon showed up. He should have given Rasa to Iron Bull and gone to defend her. As time passed and the panic settled he had more time to think of everything he should have done. Every other better path he could have taken.

How many great people’s deaths would he be responsible for before his own end.

Blackwall buried his head in his head in his head and let himself sob for the first time in a long time. He thought this time would be different. She had been everything a leader should be. Kind, brave, clever, and wise. Too many had one of those traits, and too few had all. She had put her faith in him and he had found her deserving of his. She could have accomplished great things, changed the world.

And he had let her die.

Suddenly there were shouts from the camp below. Blackwall looked up and saw a group run up to a few people emerging from the gap in the mountain they had made their camp against. Blackwall squinted to see and saw it was Commander Cullen and Seeker Pentaghast, and the commander seemed to be carrying something.

Someone.

The person’s hand rested on their stomach and Blackwall's heart seized when he saw the slightest flicker of green from it.

Blackwall fell to his news and clasped his hands.

“Blessed Andraste, I know I have not been as faithful as I should, but if you allow your Herald to live I swear to you I will follow wherever she leads. The coldest of mountains to the most blight ridden deserts. Only death will take me from her side. I will be her counsel and her guard. You have my oath in this.”

Blackwall paused and whispered the last part of his prayer, “Please just let her live, let her finish her work.”

Elvhen used

Mae- shortened term for mother

Hey everyone! Thanks for being patient. I was traveling for the holidays and didn't have time to finish this chapter up until yesterday. Also anyone who was excited to read the beginning of my edits (I know I was), the first two chapters have gone through edits. They aren't major plot edits, I just think they read better now. Big thank you to my editor, my brother, who works full time and is still working through this fic slowly and being very supportive. Next chapter is our last companion chapter (Cole) and then we get to Ellana! I'm really excited y'all.

Next Chapter (Cole): https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/190134990889/chapter-12-cole

#the path forward #ellana lavellan #blackwalll #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #dai fanfic #dragon age fanfic #fanfic

3 notes · View notes

buttsonthebeach · 6 years ago

Text

The Last Game, Pt. 4

And now we reach our conclusion - Rhaella has walked away from Solas, and Solas’s plans have not changed.

I am so, so honored that @scharoux trusted me enough to commission a full fic from me. I loved writing Rhaella and Solas’s journey to this point. Thank you, dear friend!

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots currently CLOSED as of 7/29/19)

Other fics/commissions in this series:

1. All Things Green and Growing

2. The Same Kind of Scar

3. World Without End

4. The Last Game Pt. 1, the Last Game Pt. 2, and the Last Game Pt. 3 (contains explicit content)

Pairing: Rhaella Lavellan x Solas

Rating: Teen.

**************************

“I think we’ve found him.”

Rhaella had been waiting for those words for weeks since she returned from the Hunterhorn Mountains, and now that Leliana was saying them, she found she still was not ready.

Leliana’s agents had been acting on Rhaella’s own intelligence from her stay with Solas in those ancient woods - the techniques used on the weapons, the name Clan Lelerion and the ancient texts that referenced it, the exact shape of the sky in those mountains, the arrangement of the peaks, anything that might zero in on the exact location of the clan’s camp. Rhaella herself had spent hours helping her spymaster pull it all together into something actionable - and now it had led them to their ultimate destination. They had followed the routes that these unique weapons took, noted the hands that they were smuggled into, noted the slow but steady gathering of forces near Sundermount in the Free Marches. The place where many people believed Corypheus and his brethren had first breached the Veil.

And now this trail of smoke had led to fire. Once again, to Solas.

And Rhaella, the one who had walked away, the one who had refused to side with him, the one who had set them on the trail, still wasn’t ready to face its end.

Leliana could probably see that in her face. Rhaella knew she had dark circles around her eyes. It was harder and harder to sleep now, her whole body so swollen with child that nothing was comfortable. It was harder and harder to sleep knowing her child’s father was out there, his plans unchanged, descending further and further into a darkness of his own making.

“You do not have to come,” Leliana said quietly, her eyes shifting down to the roundness of Rhaella’s stomach.

“I do,” Rhaella said, already calculating the distance, thinking of how many weeks the midwives thought she had left before the baby came. The number had dwindled down to four.

It was enough time to get there. It had to be. The baby had not dropped low yet. First babies often came late. There was time still. Time to fix all of this - or to end it.

“I will rally everyone,” Leliana said, quiet and solemn. If she had any reservations, she did not voice them.

Cullen had enough reservations for them both, and he had no such hesitation about sharing them. He stood in her room the next morning, watching her pack, voicing them all.

“The Emerald Graves was enough. You could not stop him then. What makes you think you can stop him now?”

Rhaella folded up the buttery soft blankets Josephine had sent from Antiva. A gift for the baby. They fit in her pack right beside the lyrium potions, the daggers, the extra arrows.

“Are you even listening, Rhaella? Are you considering the risks?”

“I am, and I have.”

She heard his loud exhale, the way he paced back and forth, but did not look up.

“This is insane. If you had weighed the risks, you wouldn’t be going.” He stopped pacing. She did not stop packing. “I know - I know all of this between us has been a ruse. But my offer is as serious as ever. Stay behind. I will make the world safe for you and this child and I will come back to you and I -”

Rhaella didn’t even feel quite like herself as she added the last of the swaddling clothes to her pack and crossed the room to him, and reached out and put her hand on his cheek.

“You are a good man, Cullen,” she said.

She turned and went down the stairs, and he stopped arguing with her, and did not raise the question again. This time he did not embrace her when she rode out with her party. There was no point in the show anymore. Things were going to end this time, one way or another, and who had fathered the Inquisitor’s child wasn’t going to matter if they did not succeed. All the games were coming to an end.

Swaying in the dark hold of the ship that would carry her across the Waking Sea to Kirkwall must have been something like returning to the womb, Rhaella thought. All the sounds were muffled and watery. Distant. You were weightless on the swell of the sea. The hold was utterly dark. You may have been in another world.

In another world.

Why not this one?

Rhaella was past the point of crying over those words, obsessing over them. She was past the point of a lot of things.

But she was not past the point of feeling a flutter of joy when her child moved within her, so cramped inside her belly that you could see the outlines of their back, and occasionally a heel or a hand, as they shifted. Soon she would meet them, know them, hold them. Soon she would show them this world and all it promised, everything about it that was beautiful, worth fighting for.

“You’re going to love it,” she murmured, keeping her hand over the place where she’d last felt them move. “There is so much good here, little one. So much to see. I’m going to show you how the hunt just like my father did. How to tell all the different plants apart. How to use the stars to guide your way. All of it. And you are going to be so loved, little one. No matter what happens.”

She felt that love like a real, physical presence in the hold with them - something glowing and warm and fierce, like a sword fresh from the forge. Something that once forged would never be broken. Something that belonged to her and the child alone.

They stayed there, the two of them, in their world apart, for the entire journey. Rhaella let herself focus only on her child, her body, the trial that was to come for them both when the baby came. It was only when the ocean sounds faded away, when she heard the clanking of the chains that marked Kirkwall’s harbor, when the soft shush of water was replaced by the cacophony of people shouting, that she turned away from these thoughts, towards the other trial that lay ahead.

“So Curly didn’t want to come back to Kirkwall, huh?”

It took Rhaella a moment to pull her mind away from the maps of Sundermount spread before her and focus on Varric’s words.

“Cullen? He wanted to come. We had reports indicating that there was movement around Skyhold and didn’t want to leave the fortress defenseless. We still need a home to come back to, after all.”

The meeting room in the Viscount’s Keep where they’d convened was very quiet. Too quiet. Everywhere Rhaella went she seemed to bring silence with her. People staring at her belly, at her arm, at her face. All of them searching for something.

“That’s good to hear,” Varric said. “That you’re thinking that way, I mean.”

“Of course I am,” Rhaella said. “I have no other choice.”

They were going to have a home to come back to. She was going to raise this child. There was a great gray blank space between this moment and that moment - a great if - but she knew what lay on the other side of it. That was her strength. Maybe that was why everyone was staring at her in silence. They were trying to see the source of that strength, that future moment that they all felt so uncertain of. Let them stare, then.

“Right,” Varric went on. “To review - you’ll have the support of Kirkwall’s city guard as you navigate Sundermount. They’ll help you get through the caves that will lead you to the top. I’m going to keep a healthy reserve here in the city for the safety of our citizens.”

“And we will leave some of our forces here to support them,” Leliana said in turn, stepping forward. “While the bulk of our forces make the journey to Sundermount.”

Bulk. They had only brought one hundred soldiers with them. Twenty-five were staying behind in Kirkwall. A gesture more than anything else, but a gesture that mattered. Twenty-five people could change the course of a battle. They could. But Rhaella did not think there would be fighting in the streets of Kirkwall today. That was not Solas’s way.

Her lungs sealed up all at once at the thought of his name. Of him. She would see him today. She was sure of it. She was also sure it would be the last time.

“Sprig? You okay?”

“Yes. Fine. I’m fine.”

It was only a little bit of a lie. She had been feeling off that day but it was nothing serious. Probably just the transition from sea to shore. Probably just exhaustion. Probably just the fact that she knew what she had to do. Her belly was tight as a drum and she’d been nauseated for a couple of hours now, but those were ordinary side effects at her stage of pregnancy. Nothing to be concerned about.

Everyone was looking at her again. Faces familiar and unfamiliar. She just wanted to be alone, as she had been in the ship’s hold. She just wanted all of this to be over.

“Right then,” she said. “Everything is settled. Give the soldiers half an hour to prepare themselves, and then we leave for Sundermount.”

The people she did not know withdrew, their voices buzzing.

“I can’t believe we would have missed this without your help,” Varric said, frustrated. “The movements of his people through the city were subtle, sure, but still. We should have noticed something was up.”

“He is a master at his game,” Leliana said. “You can’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Are we certain he’ll go through with this today?”

Rhaella snorted, a dry, bitter sound. “Are you questioning whether or not he’ll do it, or whether or not it will be today? I assure you that I am confident of both things. The spikes in magical energy that we sensed - the activity from Merrill’s eluvian, which she has proven to be linked to the same system his forces are using - the total disappearance of his agents from the city - it all adds up. We barely arrived in time. And as far as whether or not he will go through with it - after the last time I saw him…”

Do not make me go through with this, knowing you are in the world. Knowing my child is in the world. Please, do not -

I am not making you do anything, Solas. And you know that.

He had not followed her down that mountain in the Hunterhorns. The die was cast. All the games were coming to an end.

Both Varric and Leliana stood there in silence, watching her with sad eyes.

“It does not have to be you,” Leliana said quietly.

“It does,” Rhaella said. She reached out, placed one finger on the marker on the map that represented Solas. She knocked it down.

Rhaella was sure that Sundermount was beautiful, but she didn’t have a chance to appreciate it as they hurried through the foothills where a Dalish camp had once been. She would come back here someday. After. She would appreciate it then.

After.

There was an After out there and she was moving towards it.

She directed more of her mana towards the barrier around her stomach, already bolstered by many wards, stabilization and protection from every kind of element. She still felt tight there, with periods of greater tightness, still felt a little ill.

All of that was for After.

They hit the first of Solas's forces - though perhaps forces was too strong a word. There were twenty of them, well trained and well armed with the weapons from Clan Lelerion. Rhaella did not stay to fight them. She dropped barriers on her own soldiers and she kept going. This was the plan. Keep moving forward, forward, forward, leaving behind only enough soldiers to keep them from being surrounded. They went through the caves of Sundermount and the same thing happened - more elves, mages and warriors who had already killed the few adventurers who had been in the tunnels before them, who were guarding various relics of power that Solas had seized in the last few months. More soldiers peeled off, went after them, set to work on destroying the relics.

Rhaella just kept moving. She kept reinforcing the barrier around her stomach. Her breath was short and she had pangs of pain now and then that made it entirely impossible to breathe.

After, she begged. After, after, after.

As they moved through Sundermount she could feel a rising energy prickling all over her skin. An energy that reminded her of the Anchor. The same bitter-bright taste on the back of her tongue, the same swirling, living chaos - entropy and force magic balanced against one another.

She pulled swirls of speed through the Fade and directed them into her feet. She had to move faster. She had to get there in time. But Solas’s soldiers looked at her and there was recognition in their eyes, and she heard one of them shout to another:

“Tell him she’s already here. He needs to hurry.”

So Solas had known they were coming. They had no element of surprise.

She killed the one who went running to tell Solas. A quick, clean clap of lightning. Painless.

She burst out of the caves and only half of her forces remained behind her. The Kirkwall guards were entirely gone, all down there in the caves, holding back the soldiers. She heard their shouts and the clang of their steel and she wished for them to see the after too, for all of them to see it.

But she had to keep going, because the energy was even stronger here, because the wind was fierce, whipping up dirt and debris against her cheeks, stinging her eyes, and there had been no wind like this at the base of the mountain. She rounded the corner, hugging the rocky cliff face. The expanse of Sundermount’s peak opened before her, green and dotted with graves and crumbling pillars. And at the far end of that peak, standing before an altar, was Solas, his arms raised high.

The sky around them was roiling with black clouds and flashes of white lightning that seared Rhaella’s eyes. The earth began to tremble beneath her feet, bowing and bucking like she was on the deck of the ship again. She nearly fell, caught herself in time. She bolstered the barrier around her stomach one last time. She started moving forward. Lightning knifed across the sky once more - but it did not fade. It remained, a brilliant white scar. A crack in the world around them.

He had already started.

And she’d said it was all over, but standing there, seeing him, she had to try one last time.

“Solas,” she shouted above the wind.

He turned, and his eyes were glowing white, the same color as the lightning. He did not drop his hands, did not stop casting the spell. More cracks appeared in the sky.

“Vhenan,” he said, and his voice echoed with a hundred other voices. The voice of the man she loved was in there but she could not hear it. Not anymore.

“Stop this now,” she shouted, moving closer, the spell building from the tips of her toes towards the crown of her head; pure fire, the kind that destroyed and cleansed. Her stomach clenched and that pain was pure fire too, brought tears to her eyes.

After, after, after.

“You know that I cannot,” he said. More cracks, more white light spilling through, blinding her. It wasn’t green the way Fade rifts had been and even now, despite everything, Rhaella found herself questioning that, wanting to unravel why, wanting to ask him, to sit at his side and talk about the world.

“You can,” she said, raising her staff. “You just won’t.”

She slammed the staff home and fire burst forth, streaking towards him, red and angry, burning clean and bright. It hit the barrier surrounding him the way a flower would hit a stone wall. Dissipated entirely. The wind intensified. More cracks appeared in the sky.

Rhaella cast again, again, ignoring the pain in her stomach, thinking of the baby and trying not to think of the baby, trying to just survive this moment. The earth heaved beneath her and she tried not to think of her soldiers in the caves below. She tried not think of anything but the next spell. Nullify, then ice. Nullify, then lightning. Nullify, and then stonefist. All the magic flowing easily from her hand, no moment’s hesitation as it crossed the Veil.

Please, please, please let this work, let my child live to see the world I know and love -

Each and every spell bounced off the barrier. There was green light now, shining through the white cracks in the sky, and black mist rolling through.

Rhaella dropped her staff and pulled her dagger from its sheath at her waist. She lunged forward, crossing the distance between them, seeking the place Cullen had told her about - right between his shoulder blades. A place where she had rested her head when she was overwhelmed, where she had kissed him as he slept at her side. The dagger was impossibly heavy in her hand.

It bounced off the barrier uselessly too.

A wave of force hit her and she flew, landed hard on her back, and her whole body was overcome with pain - pain so solid she could feel it in her throat, so real she could taste it, coppery and sour. She could hear it throbbing in her ears, a drumbeat that would never end. She clutched at her stomach, panic rising in her as the black mist rolled towards her, pouring out of the sky, obscuring Solas where he stood by the altar. It hit her and stung every pore, every nerve, every hair on her body, and Rhaella screamed.

Please, please, please not like this, not my child too, please -

Solas was there, kneeling, his eyes blue once more, one hand on her forehead and one on her stomach.

“Be still, vhenan,” he said, and his voice was his own again. “We do not have much time.”

Pain wracked her again and she screamed, tried to push him away.

“Hush, hush. I am glad you came. I can protect you, vhenan. I can protect you both.”

The earth was shaking and the sky was opening up but Rhaella felt a sudden wave of calm, of peace, even though everything was coming apart at the seams, even though Solas’s eyes were white with power once more. There was pain but it was distant, hidden behind a white and gold glow. There was a flare of radiance - every color she had ever known, indigo and violet and spring’s first green and deepest red - and then there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Rhaella woke.

That was a surprise in and of itself.

She woke, and the air was cool on her face, and the pain was gone.

My baby.

Both of her hands went instantly to her stomach. Still firm, round, high. She sent out a pulse of magic. A little foot kicked back in response.

Still pregnant. Still alive.

It had all been a dream.

But she had used both of her hands to feel her stomach?

Rhaella opened her eyes. She saw blue sky. No crackles of white lightning, no black mist, no green light. Just blue, blue sky.

She raised up both of her hands. Left and right, twins again, not even a scar on the left palm where the Anchor had been. She flexed them, and sparks flew off of them, dazzling bright and brief like fireflies in autumn. The magic came easily. It did not even come to tell the truth - it just was.

What happened?

She rose, and the room that surrounded her was crystalline, unearthly, all silver glass, and she still did not believe it. She could feel the enchantments surrounding the bed where she’d been lying - the time magic, something like necromancy - and she did not have to reach out to feel them. They came to her the way any scent came on a breeze. And she still did not believe it.

No, no, no, no.

She ran through an open doorway onto a cobblestone lane and looked around and saw more crystalline houses, three of them, all empty, none larger than one room - and then three more above that - and two above that - and they were floating in the air, glittering in the sun - she looked down the cobblestone lane and saw ethereal bodies gliding there, pink and purple and orange - spirits -

She was in the Fade. She had crossed the Veil as she had in Adamant. Solas had failed. He had failed. He had to have failed.

She seemed to be up on a hill. No - a mountain. Did this part of the Fade reflect Sundermount? She oriented herself by the sun, turning this way and that, until she could see the shoreline down the mountainside, and it was still the Waking Sea, still the frothy teal waters she had just crossed. She turned, following that shoreline towards the City of Chains. Kirkwall would be there, unchanged -

She saw the city. She did. She saw the shape of its walls, the red clay of the roofs of Hightown. Even at this distance she could pick out the details -

And half the houses were skeletons. The Viscounts’ Keep - collapsed. The walls had caved inward in places. And there were other buildings, houses, objects - pieces of road - floating in the sky, caught on some perfect, invisible breeze. It was Kirkwall but it was broken. What about the people who had been there when it happened?

Rhaella was dimly aware that she was breathing too fast. That her hands were shaking. One of the spirits down the lane had turned its featureless face towards her. Rhaella wondered what kind it was. Joy. The answer entered her mind at once, unbidden. She just knew it. Something brushed against her arm. A different spirit. Curiosity.

No, no, no, no.

The baby kicked her once, twice, three times. Her breath was still coming too fast. Her belly was steadily tightening.

I promised to protect the world for you, little one. I promised. What has he done?

She had to find Solas. She must have spoken the words aloud, because Curiosity answered.

“The Wolf Who Hunts Alone is down the hill. He is trying to heal a hurt he caused.”

Rhaella was already off, already walking through a landscape that was familiar-but-not-familiar - the curve of the road was like what she remembered from Sundermount but the mountainside was a sheer cliff now, like part of it was gone. The air was warmer than it had been, and each scent sweeter, brighter. She looked over the edge of the cliff and saw a little village down there, near the seashore. Down there. He had to be down there. She needed to get there as fast as she could. She needed to find him, stop him, fix all of this -

Roots and vines and clods of dirt rose out of the cliff face, forming a delicate spiralling staircase. The Fade responded to intention, to will. That was what was happening here. This was the Fade. He hadn’t succeeded at all. Rhaella descended, flexing her left hand over and over again, feeling its familiar-unfamiliar weight.

The village had real people in it, real houses. Every last one of them was an elf. Some had vallaslin, some didn’t. Some had dazed, terrified expressions. Some were tall, broad-shouldered, like Solas himself. They wore the ancient armor of the sentinels at the Temple of Mythal and they wore the threadbare, patched-twice clothes of runaway slaves.

“Where is he?” Rhaella asked every one of them. “Where is he?”

Some spoke to her in Tevene, some in Elvhen, some in Trade. They all knew who she meant.

“He’s gone back to the city.”

“He’s trying to help.”

“When you find that fucking bastard, kill him, kill him -”

“What has the Dread Wolf done?”

The same words she’d once heard in the Vir’Dirthara. Reversed now.

Rhaella kept on walking.

She kept catching sight of things that were almost familiar - bends of road she recognized from the journey she had just taken to reach Sundermount. How much time had passed since then? She had no sense of how long she had been walking, either. Her breath came quickly again. She had to stop to calm it, her palm braced against a tree to steady herself. She looked up at it, taking in the dense needles, the color of its bark. It was purple, she realized. The deepest, most regal shade of purple, the kind that would have the lords and ladies of Orlais clambering at the doors of the tailors, demanding silks dyed to match.

I have no idea what kind of tree this is. I have lived in the Free Marches all my adult life, hunted and played in its woods, and I have never seen this kind of tree.

If this is real - if this is how things are - I have no idea what world I am introducing my child to.

Rhaella kept on walking.

Kirkwall loomed closer and closer, shifting and changing based on her perspective, a city torn apart and flung upwards, half-intact and half-destroyed. Varric was in that city. He was.

What had happened to Skyhold? To the people they left behind? To the people who were in the mountain when it happened?

No, none of that mattered, this was the Fade. Solas hadn’t succeeded.

She passed a gash in the earth that had revealed a stone hallway. Four dwarves, members of the Legion of the Dead from their tattoos, were standing there, white-faced, looking up at the sky.

“Ancestors,” one of them murmured. “We should have been two weeks from the surface. Not two days. You, elf. What happened here?”

Rhaella approached them.

“There was a surge of power through all of our veins of lyrium two weeks ago,” the one who’d spoken said. “Our commander was tasked with figuring out what happened. You have any explanation?”

The words stuck in her throat, as thick and awful as mud. As if she’d swallowed the whole Fallow Mire.

“The Veil -” she began, and then fell silent. She shook her head. “I’m Inquisitor Lavellan. I’m on my way to find out what happened. Were any of your people harmed when the surge of power happened?”

“No. Not by that. There were some cave-ins when the earth shook, though.”

If he did succeed - maybe it wasn’t a catastrophe. Maybe he managed to protect everyone. He would do that, if he could.

“Okay. Good. I’m going to figure out what happened. I promise.”

They looked at her, owlish in their confusion and fear.

“Ancestors,” one of them murmured again.

Rhaella kept on walking.

When she reached Kirkwall, it was eerily quiet. She had entered not far from the Lowtown market and it should have been overflowing with people - people panicking if nothing else, or praying to the Maker or - something.

But she crossed paths with only a handful of humans. And they darted away from her when they saw her. The spirits looked at her curiously but did not approach. There were spirits of Rage and Grief and Mourning and Fear here, and they had other things to do. Rage was inside of burning buildings. Grief and Mourning were circling empty houses.

Rhaella kept glancing skyward at the buildings suspended in the air, her heart in her throat every time she realized one of them was above her. She did not know the laws of this world, whatever it was. If one of them fell -

Her skin crawled with static electricity. Her own magic, unbidden once again. The baby kicked and squirmed and her stomach tightened once, hard.

Mamae will figure it out, little one. She will. You’ll have the world I promised you.

The only substantial noise was coming from what turned out to be the alienage. The venadhal there was resplendent - each leaf a shimmering ruby red, the painted patterns on its trunk now moving, swirling across the bark. It was surrounded by a crowd of elves, all of their voices raised. Their elders were standing on top of benches surrounding the venadhal, trying to appease them.

“Please,” one elderly woman shouted. “We received news from the scouts we sent out. We have news from Starkhaven. We can’t share it if you can’t hear us speak.”

Without thinking, Rhaella raised a hand and cast a spell - a quick blast of force high above their heads that would create a loud sound. It worked. It worked far better than she expected it to. The crowd of elves fell silent and turned to her, and Rhaella felt it at once - how each and every one of them was bristling with magic.

“What is the news from Starkhaven,” she said, drawing on the authoritative voice she’d been forced to develop as Inquisitor.

The crowed turned, looked askance at her. The elder spoke.

“It is the same there as here. Two weeks ago the Veil was ripped away from them, and it has been chaos since. Most of the elves and dwarves of their city have survived, although not all. The humans - and any nearby qunari - half have survived.”

The crowd surged once more, shouting questions. How did this happen? What do we do now? What about outside the Free Marches?

Rhaella did know how any of them were shouting. She could barely breathe once more. Half of all humans and qunari. Dead. Elves and dwarves mostly unscathed. The power surging through the lyrium two weeks ago - the fact that every single person in the crowd in front of her was glistening with magic, vibrating with it, making little snaps of flame and sparks without even meaning to. For two weeks she had been asleep - no, not asleep, in uthenera, it was time to face facts now - and all of this had been going on.

She was already leaving the conversation, turning away, ignoring the shouts of the elders for her to come closer. He’d done it. He had actually done it. She had failed. So many innocent lives were over. How many of her companions had survived? Dorian? Blackwall? Cassandra? How many of the Avvar of the Frostback Basin? The good people of Ferelden? Humans had wronged her people over and over and over again but that did not mean that all of them deserved this - and what of the mages in their towers? If magic was stronger now, what had happened to theirs? If they had survived the initial fall of the Veil, were they now sowing unintentional chaos in its wake?

She was walking, taking quick, sharp breaths. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going. She felt that she was following something, faint as a snatch of distant birdsong. Her feet were leading her up higher in the city, into Hightown, near silent in its desolation. A large group of dwarves had congregated in what used to be the market. Glass shattered as someone broke into a stately mansion. To Rhaella, it all might as well have been a dream anyway. She was going to find him. She was going to find him and make him answer for what he’d done.

Her instinct did not lead her astray (was intent going to govern everyone’s lives now, just as it had always governed the Fade?). Solas was at the highest point of Kirkwall. The Chantry. His arms were raised and his eyes were glowing and he was not in his armor any more, the one that made him truly look like one of the old gods. He was in a simple tunic, fine blue cotton with gold embroidery. He was looking skyward, towards the buildings that had torn away from the earth and risen up.

Rhaella did not hesitate this time. She did not call his name or think of the tenderness that had been between them, the scars they shared, the understanding that ran deeper than words. She summoned ice in the form of a spear and she launched it straight for the back of his skull.

It flew at incredible speed, struck true, and shattered to a thousand glittering pieces. She tried fire next, a whirling ball of it, white-hot. It erupted around him but when it faded he stood there unchanged, arms still raised. She tried stone, pried up from the earth around them, but that shattered too. She tried lightning, force, pure arcane energy. Every spell she knew.

Still he did not move.

It wasn’t until she ran closer, tried to push him, hit him, anything she could think of in her desperation, that he at last turned. “Vhenan,” he said, surprised. His blue eyes were brilliant and clear, no trace of the glow from before. His voice was the same as it had always been. There was a faint smile on his lips. “Forgive me. I had thought you were one of the others. You are well?”

His calm tone - once the only thing she’d ever longed to hear - was like oil added to a fire.

“How could you do this? After everything you experienced, everything I said - how could you?”

“There was no other way. I saved as many as I could - I am still trying to save those who may be -”

“Fix it. You have to fix this. You have to fix everything.”

“My heart -”

She tried once more to push him. She could not even touch him. She could feel his barrier as a physical thing instead - smooth and immoveable beneath her palms. She beat her fists against it, strengthened each blow with magic. The power here was absurd - it kept coming and coming and coming. She had never been so powerful.

And still she could not even touch him.

“No. I am not your heart. You lied every time you spoke the word. This -” she flung her arm out wide over the silent, sepulchral city below. “This was all that was ever in your heart. This dead and mutilated world. This was all you ever wanted.”

“You know that isn’t true -”

“Stop lying!”

Rhaella’s voice was coming from somewhere else. It couldn’t be her, shrieking so loud, so utterly crazed with fear and fury. She tried one last attack, raw magical power alone, not channeled or twisted or braided into anything other than what it was. The power that made and unmade the world. It hit his barrier, a spray of color, indigo and violet and ruby red and vivid green. It exploded out around them, wild and free. She had to put up a barrier of her own. It snapped into place easy as breathing, as if it was always there. The baby squirmed within her.

I have failed you. I have failed you, da’len.

That thought took the last of her energy. She dropped her hands. She felt the tears on her face, though she could not remember when she started crying. Solas stood there before her, arms dangling at his sides, grief written all over his face. They stood there a while - the two of them - in silence, at the pinnacle of a city that had been ripped apart.

“Good-bye, Solas,” she said.

She turned and she walked away. She heard his voice, the sound of him moving towards her. She raised a wall of rock between them without turning. She kept walking. She would need to rest soon. Her feet and her back ached. Spirits lingered at the corners of her vision. She had no idea how to interact with them, how to tell all of them apart. Whether or not any of them could possess people as they had before. She did not know all the rules of this world. She did not know where to go. What to do. She did not know what it would look like in six months or in a year -

Solas had brought down her wall of rock, of course. He was still walking towards her. She brought up another, strengthened the barrier around her so she could not even hear his voice. She wanted to curl inward entirely, away from this strange place that had once been Kirkwall. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up somewhere else.

I have failed you. I don’t know how to be your mother in this world. How to guide you. What to teach you. I have failed.

By the time she left the city, Solas had stopped following. At least as far as she could tell. Perhaps he was a shapeshifter here, and had become one of the crows flying over her head. Perhaps he could bend the light around himself and become invisible. She could not bring herself to care.

She walked all the way back to the crystalline house where she had awoken. She figured it was the closest thing she had to home right now. She did not go inside it, though. She walked around to the back of it, to where it overlooked the Waking Sea. Was it still called that now? Maybe the name didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it was water, a place she could sit and lose herself in endless blue. A place to sit while she gathered the strength she needed to go on in a world that was not her own. Rhaella would sit there as long as she needed, waiting for that strength to arrive. She had no other choice.

#beach writes #beach does commissions #scharoux #rhaella lavellan #rhaella x solas #solavellan fanfic #dragon age fanfic #AHHH #what an honor to do this #thank you again <3

21 notes · View notes

elfrootaddict · 5 years ago

Text

Now You Know - Chapter 2/8

CONTAINS SPOILERS - DO NOT READ ON UNTIL YOU HAVE COMPLETED DAI TRESPASSER DLC!

DESCRIPTION: Experience (my first) Lavellan’s thoughts and feelings during the final cut scene of the Trespasser DLC. Including her experience when she loses the Anchor.

Chapter 1 ¦ Chapter 2 ¦ Chapter 3 ¦ Chapter 4 ¦ Chapter 5 ¦ Chapter 6 ¦ Chapter 7 ¦ Chapter 8

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

To all those in Solavellan Hell,

I have written this to not only express my emotions but to hopefully capture some of yours, too.

After completing Trespasser, and going through the hell that is the final cut scene, I had to do something. So, to help myself work through it, I’ve written (my first) Lavellan’s thoughts and experiences down during the DLC’s final cut scene.

This is my very first FanFic, so I hope it doesn’t turn out completely terrible. *fingers crossed*

Happy Dragon 4ge Day!

WARNING: Chapter 6 contains a moment of distress and gore. Read with sensitivity and discretion.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

CHAPTER 2

Lavellan steps out of the eluvian.

She turns around and faces the magic mirror - there is no going back now.

Turning back around she is immediately startled. A Qunari warrior lunges straight towards her, axe in hand - turned to stone.

After composing herself, she looks passed the Qunari warrior and notices a couple dozen more of the same. All frozen in time by being turned to stone. Every single one posed mid-attack. They were clearly unprepared.

Who did this? I’ve never seen much magic.

Realising she doesn’t have the time to quench her curiosity, she presses forward and winds her way through the maze of stone-frozen Qunari, looking to see if Solas has also met such an end.

Don’t you dare die on me, vhenan! Not before I get to tell you how mad I am at you!

She reaches a flight of stairs, decorated buy two large stag statues on either side. On the horizon, lying between the castle rubble, is another eluvian. It is significantly bigger than the other eluvians she’s passed through. This one is poised so elegantly. It’s so beautiful standing against the sun light. She wonders how many Ancient Elves have walked these paths. And what this eluvian’s original purpose was.

She could only imagine what Solas would have to say about a place like this. She loves listening to his stories about the Fade and the wisdom he had gathered during his journeys. She would find any excuse to hear him speak to her. His voice always calmed and soothed her.

“Ebasit Kata. Itwa-ost.” says the only voice that could make Lavellan’s heart stop for just a moment. A voice that could belong to no one else.

Solas!

“Maraas Kata!” insists the Viddasala.

Lavellan starts running up the stairs towards the eluvian. She notices two silhouettes. One being the Viddasala and other belonging to a physique she knows all too well.

Solas calmly replies, “Your forces have failed. Leave now, and tell the Qunari to trouble me no further.”

Lavellan finally reaches the top of the stairs and stops dead in her tracks. The Viddasala, with her back to the Inquisitor, is facing Solas and seems to be hesitating.

With all her Qunari forces dead or turned to stone, and with the demands of the Qun, she has but only one option left.

With his arms crossed behind him and steadily walking towards the eluvian, the Viddasala attempts to impale Solas with her spear. Without hesitation Solas stops. Not even making so much as eye contact, he turns the Viddasala to stone.

Witnessing Solas effortlessly turn the Viddasala to stone causes Lavellan to step back and hold her breath. She wonders how such magic could even exist. How a single mage, such as Solas, could possess such talents and not even mention a word of it to her?

Had she not earned his trust? Had she not shown where her loyalties lie? What more could he be hiding?

When he told her the truth about her vallaslin, she had him remove it. Being Dalish, he knew what it meant to her and the weight that decision carried. Did that not prove her ability to understand and accept the truth? No matter how hard it is for her to hear?

The Anchor starts reaching its limit once more and needs to be released. With all that is happening in front of her, she almost forgets about the pain she is going through and how at any moment the Anchor can simply kill her.

Not now!

She hesitates. She thinks to not even call out his name. What would she discover once she announces her presence? Maybe he knew she was there and waited to see if she would even say anything?

She is now staring at the one person, in the whole of Thedas, who holds her heart in his hands.

He holds his cards so close. She wears her heart on her sleeve. But she is also no fool. And she is going to get the answers she feels she deserves.

Say his name. Don’t let him walk away again.

Confident in her decision, Lavellan calls after him, “Solas.”

Solas stops and slowly turns around to face her.

They lock eyes.

It takes every ounce of her willpower not to run to him. Embrace him. Kiss him. Yell at him and then burst into tears like a child. How often she pictured the day that she would see him again. All the things she wanted to say to him. How angry she has been. To tell him it took everything she had to forgive him for leaving her the way that he did. Before defeating Corypheus, he promised to explain everything.

Lavellan starts slowly walking towards him. She feels as if she is hunting prey and doesn’t want to scare it off by moving too quickly. She would rather be fighting a High Dragon. She knows what to do with a High Dragon.

His armour reflecting the sunlight immediately catches her attention. It is similar to what Abelas was wearing at the temple of Mythal. How did Solas manage to get such ancient armour?

And in addition, Solas is wearing a wolf’s pelt flung over his right shoulder and tucked into his belt. An interesting choice. Was this his way of announcing his loyalty to Fen’Harel? Is this what the Viddasala meant?

The armour has this aura of power and respect to it. She begins to realise Solas seems...different. The way in which he’s holding himself. His mannerism and overflowing confidence. He is so beautiful to look at but also carries this air of danger. Why did she feel like she is the one being hunted instead?

Almost at arm's length, the power of the Anchor abrupts and all her pretenses fall away. Using her right hand to support her left forearm, she cries and screams out in pain. Every build up gets worse and more excruciating. Lavellan is now at the mercy of the Anchor once again.

With still no change in his demeanor, Solas’s eyes illuminate with magic and the Anchor promptly stops as if it is under his command.

What? How did he do that?

The pain the Anchor was causing suddenly falls flat. Lavellan manages to stand to her feet and tries to regain her composure.

Solas looks deep into her eyes and says, “That should give us more time,” and with a slight tilt of his head and a subtle smile of affiliation he continues. “I suspect you have questions.”

#ElfrootAddict's Now You Know #first fanfic #solavellan hell #solavellan #dragon age #daitrespasser #fen'harel #dread wolf #solas #dragon 4ge day

2 notes · View notes

emotionsofthesoul · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 11 _ La Tormenta

“La tormenta dejara daños irreparables en el corazón…” - La Tormenta by Aventura

It was the first of November. Neither girl could have seen the storm that was about to hit. They had spent the night at the Carvajal loft in midtown. Neither one thinking this would be the day everything would change. They had fallen asleep more in love than ever. They watched scary movies until they both fell asleep holding onto each other. Neither thinking the real nightmare on L St was about to begin.

When the girls awoke both of their phones had over 100 missed calls, voicemails, and texts from their families and people from the media.

Guille’s message to Valentina was brief but protective, “Vale I don’t know what you just got yourself into but please be careful. If you need me to go pick you up call me.”

Guadalupe's on the other hand just said, “Come home NOW. We need to talk.” She had weekends off so she was waiting for her daughter to come home.

“What happened, why is everyone freaking out?” Juliana said running a hand though her hair and looking to Valentina for answers.

“You were right… someone was following us last night… they snapped this picture of us kissing right after we left the restaurant…” Valentina said trying to seem calm for Juliana’s sake but doing a horrible job at it. They had just been outed to the world.

“What are we gonna do?” Juliana said as her eyes filled with tears and what was more than evident, fear.

“Juliana, I need you to breathe. We knew this could happen, I am a public figure. We’re going to be okay.” Valentina tried to reassure Juliana.

“WE did not know this. We… who is we… I had no idea this could even happen!” Juliana said in full panic mode.

“Baby. Juls. Please, calm down. We need to think our next moves through…” Valentina said.

“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS! WE JUST GOT OUTED TO THE ENTIRE PLANET! BEFORE THIS NO ONE EVEN KNEW WHO THE HELL I WAS!” Juliana yelled in frustration.

“Mira Juliana… calm down… it’s done, there is nothing we can do to reverse that now. I am willing to fight whoever I need to fight just to be with you. I agree, it’s not the right time and this is not how I wanted this to happen but it did and now we have to face this together. I need you need to hear me out, now. I love you Juliana Valdes. You are the woman that I love. I need you to breathe. Let me fix this. Please.” Valentina said softly.

“Val… what are my parents gonna say?” Juliana said allowing herself to cry into Valentina’s shoulder.

“It’s okay baby. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there okay. Right now I need to make a few phone calls to make sure we can leave safely. Okay. I need you to relax chiquita.” Valentina said rubbing Juliana’s back in circles and running her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair.

After a few phone calls Valentina made arrangements for Guillermo to come get them and take them to her father. Juliana had calmed down enough to get herself together. Valentina said she would later send for Juliana’s car.

“Chiquita, I’m sorry. How can I make this easier for you? How can I help?” Valentina said caressing Juliana’s cheek.

“I’ll be okay Val. Together, you and I are stronger together. We’ll get through this.” Juliana said allowing herself relax into Valentina’s arms trying to believe her own words.

“Esa es mi niña.” Valentina said as her phone began to ring indicating her brother was outside. “Ready? We have to go…”

“No… but I don’t really have an option do I?” Juliana said with a faint smile.

As soon as they stepped in the parking garage Guillermo was waiting for the girls right at the door. There were hundreds of reporters and paparazzi outside the garage ready to invade their personal space.

“Girls, duck down the flashes are about to get crazy. Be prepared.” Guille said looking at his little sister and Juliana through the rearview mirror.

“I’m not ashamed Guille, I’m not gonna duck, let them come at me.” Valentina said holding Juliana protectively.

“Okay but protect Juliana, she’s not ready for this lifestyle.” Guille said realizing this meant more to his sister than he imaged.

Once they reached the exit the lights and voices got more aggressive and loud. Valentina held her head high not backing down to the scandal. She held Juliana close to her covering her face. This was not how she wanted this to happen but she had to protect her girlfriend at all cost against whoever may come for them.

“How mad is he?” Valentina asked her brother referring to their father.

“You’d be surprised… he’s not mad at all. He actually came to your defense this morning in a press conference.” Guille said driving towards the offices.

“What? Dad? What did he say?” Valentina said in complete shock.

“Look for yourself.” Guillermo said handing her his phone.

Leon: Please understand this is a private matter.

Reporter 1: But who is that girl? Is she a gold digger trying to get the family money? Where did she come from?

Leon: How dare you. That girl is one of the most genuine human beings to come into this family. Get that reporter out. I will not allow any of you to attack my daughter or her partner.

Reporter 2: So they’re together?

Leon: That’s for them to figure out and decide. Who are we to choose for them? Who are you to tell them what is wrong and what is right? I find it disgraceful that someone dare follow my child and out her and her friend without their permission. You and I do not have the right to use our power to destroy others. I will stand by my daughter no matter what. She is the strongest young lady I know and she will come out of this stronger than ever before. You have no power over her. She is stronger than even she knows. She is wiser and she knows exactly what she is doing and what she is feeling.

Reporter 3: So you support gay marriage?

Leon: Yes, I do. I never thought my child would be in a same sex relationship but that is no reason to turn my back on her. I love her as she is and I trust her. She has taught me from a very young age that love is love and love conquers anything. No more questions.

When the video was over Valentina had tears streaming down her face. She silently handed the phone back to her brother and cuddled into Juliana who simply held her and allowed her to finally feel the extent of the emotions this situation truly caused.

They drove in silence for the next 5 minutes. Guille repeatedly looked back at the two girls in his backseat being there for each other and making one another calm. Once they arrived to the parking structure he opened the door for the girls. He hugged his baby sister as tight as he could whispering how proud he was of the woman she was becoming and telling her everything would be okay. Then he proceeded to hug Juliana and thank her for taking care of his sister and to not allow the world to come between them if this is something they truly want to fight for.

Once they reached the ground floor the girls headed to the main conference room to meet with Leon, Lucia, and Eva. Valentina held Juliana’s hand proudly all the way to her family. She held her head high and exuded complete confidence. Juliana simply allowed the other girl to lead the way.

“Hasta que llegaste hermanita.” Eva said in a sarcastic tone.

“I’m glad you guys are safe.” Lucia said walking over the girls and embracing the two of them. “Are you guys okay?”

“How are they going to be okay, look at them. They know exactly what they did. I want you out of here now! Get as far away from my sister or else I’ll do it myself!” Eva said trying to contain her anger but allowing the venom to leave her lips regardless.

“She’s not going anywhere and if you so as dare are touch her-” Valentina was saying getting tense and defensive.

Leon cut her off by saying, “Evangelina Carvajal, in this family we protect each other and now the girl holding your sister back is a part of it. So if you want to be cut off from the entire family, keep going, if not I recommend you stop spewing all that venom now. That’s enough!” He said slamming his hand on the table.

“Come here baby.” He said gently to Valentina who ran to him and began to sob.

“Shhh it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. We’re going to get through this together like we always do.” He said as he rubbed her back.

“I saw what you said this morning. Thank you for not hating me.” Valentina said in a low timid voice.

“Hey, no, baby. I could never hate you for being who you are. I already knew about you two and that didn’t change how I feel about you. If anything it made me love you more. Your mother would be so proud. She always taught you to be you and not who anyone else told you to be. I’m proud of you.” Leon said which only made Valentina more emotional.

Juliana didn’t know what to do and felt completely uncomfortable there and out of place. She was relieved and happy that Valentina’s family took it so well but she was very concerned as to how her parents would react.

She was lost in thought when she finally heard Valentina calling her and now standing right in front of her. “Juls… my dad was asking if you’re okay but I mean clearly you’re not. Come here.” Valentina said pulling Juliana in for a hug.

“Juliana, I know this is all too much to take in right now and it’s definitely not going to get easier anytime soon. So I need to know, do you need me get you extra security? Is it safe to go home? How can I help you?” Leon asked the girl calmly.

“What is with you and this family? How is everyone so calm? I’m freaking out. My parents are going to kill me and disown me. I have to kiss my dreams of studying goodbye. I have to go pack up my things as soon I get home. They will never accept this. I don’t know what we were thinking Valentina… this is just too much…” Juliana said voicing her fear as her voice began to crack.

“Nos pueden dejar solas, please.” Valentina said firmly not looking anywhere but Juliana’s eyes.

Once everyone walked out she hugged her girlfriend. “Let it out Juls. Please, just allow yourself to feel. Allow yourself to cry. You need to get this out, don’t bottle it in. Don’t push me out. Please.” Valentina said also letting down her walls.

They simply held each other and cried for what felt like ages.

“I love you. You need to know that. I do love you. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I’m just not sure we’re ready for this. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” Juliana said whispering the last sentence and breaking Valentina’s eye contact.

“Juliana, mirame.” Valentina said lifting Juliana’s chin gently. “This is the most genuine and real thing I’ve ever felt and I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want to let you go. I’m not willing to lose you. I will do whatever you ask me to. I love you and I’m not afraid to say it, to shout it from the rooftops. You told me once, ‘if you’re in, I’m in,’ now I’d like to make you the same offer.” Valentina said sticking out her pinking.

Juliana simply nodded and linked her pinky to Valentina’s.

“Pacto?” Valentina said looking Juliana in her big chocolatey eyes.

“Pacto.” Juliana said.

“Okay, then let’s face this together. All the way through. Together. I mean that, even with your parents.” Valentina said holding Juliana’s face.

“Okay.” Juliana whispered softly.

Valentina captured Juliana’s lips in hers as a way to comfort the girl. They called Leon and Lucia back into the conference room once they were able to compose themselves.

“Esto es lo que vamos hacer, I’m going with Juliana to face her parents. I’ll give them their space to talk after they hear us out and I’m bringing her back with me to the loft because she will be safer with us.” Valentina said thinking everything out.

“Wait, Val. I need to talk with my parents. I can’t just talk and then stay with you. They would never agree to that. They won’t even want you near me. I can’t let you just take me in.” Juliana said trying to get through to Valentina.

“It’s not taking advantage. I think it’s the best plan of action. You’ll be safer from the press with us than at home. I will go with the two of you to speak with your parents. It’s the least I could do.” Leon said agreeing with his daughter.

“I just… I don’t know-” Juliana said when Valentina cut her off.

“Juliana! Dejate querer! I honestly just need you to be safe, I don’t even need to stay there if you don’t want me there but I do need to know that you’re safe and the best place for you is with me and my family.” Valentina said frustrated.

“Well you two are going to have to explain that to my parents because you don’t know El Chino, you can’t tell him anything when he’s pissed.” Juliana responded knowing she couldn’t and honestly didn’t want to win this argument.

#juliantina #juliana valdes #valentina carvajal #Forever #juliantinafics #forever ch11

29 notes · View notes