#I’m not saying I wanted the game to take place in ferelden

[baleclava]

I hate that 10+ years have passed since Inquisition, it truly doesn’t make any sense to me..

You could tell me it took solas a month to prepare for his ritual and nothing would change.. This is because we have never been in tevinter, we don’t know how much the place has changed in 10 years! If the game took place in ferelden we would definitely the passage of time! So to me, the time skip has no impact other than making characters be older…

[witchyangels]

I need to post something somewhere about how I’m finally, FINALLY, able to play Dragon Age 2 again after not having been able to play it for roughly 4 years.

I need to scream out that I truly missed this game more than I realized— it being the only one out of the current DA games that I wasn’t able to play. One reason was because I was forced to uplift my life and toxic family members put all of mine and my husband’s things in storage while he was still in the hospital. I didn’t get my PS3 back until like 2021.

Before I got the PS3 back, I somehow (by a miracle perhaps) got my laptop, working beautifully, I might add. So I tried to get DA2 on EA Origins. Screen kept going black. Couldn’t do ANYTHING and I’m pretty sure I cried.

Finally got my PS3 back, but my toxic family didn’t put any of the cords with the electronics they belonged to, so I wasn’t able to even start up the PS3 until 2022. Started it up and put in DA2 aaaand the sound on the PS3 stopped working. I couldn’t hear the epic beginning of Cassandra interrogating Varric!!

Needless to say, I was giving up hope on ever playing Hawke again…

Then I find out from a friend that DA2 was on Steam… had been there since 2020?! Steam works beautifully on my laptop, so I had hope!

Hubby and I haven’t been doing great financially… so I held off getting it, even though I wanted it sooooo badly…

My in-laws gave me birthday money and when we were at a place to splurge without it hurting us terribly… I got DA2 on steam and hoped with all my being that it would work.

It works and I can play it again 😭 I can romance Anders again and just have fun again!!

I have a couple of mods— I couldn’t get hair mods to work and mostly got mods to fix dialogues with characters and got the cosmetic mod to fix the elves weird skin tones (and Merrill looks like her DAO version!! She’s so cuuuute!)

I haven’t gotten to the part where Alistair shows up yet, because I have a mod that makes him look closer to DAO version— I’m so excited to see him. He’s a Grey Warden, so I gotta wait until the end of Act 2.

Tried an Anders mod because I missed his ponytail, buuuut it needed another mod (that for the life of me I couldn’t get to work) to make it work, so I scrapped that mod.

I almost recreated Xena Hawke, my very first Hawke, who was a rogue, romanced Anders, and Bethany became a Grey Warden. But, I had another character in mind…

I created Vanessa Hawke, who is based on my OC that’s in DA2, but isn’t Hawke. I basically created the character she would have created while playing the game (yes, this is a Modern Girl in Thedas fanfic, I started it back in like 2018, judge all you want 🤣) and now I’m hyper fixating on DA2.

I already am making plans to play Default Mage Garrett Hawke to go along with the world Vanessa finds herself in. The world state for DAO will be the Martyr one— because it has aspects I like versus the Hero of Ferelden world state.

Atrina Tabris is in no way connected to the DA2 fanfic. It’s easier this way and I don’t have to find a way to tie Vanessa and Atrina & Wanda together.

Vanessa actually retains all of her memories (as of currently) of the modern world. She, however, doesn’t have a photographic memory, so after some time has passed (because DA2 takes place over the course of I think 10 years), she won’t immediately remember that, say… Leandra’s fate in DA2 or things like that.

The story is all over the place right now, but it’s my comfort at the moment when I get a second to breathe, I play/write/draw.

I know I still have commissions to finish/start, and I’m so sorry for the wait. My brain is going all over the place currently so I’m trying to structure my time better.

I had restarted Atrina in DAO, because she gets the sweet story with Alistair, but apparently I want the heartache of Anders in DA2 at the moment. And I’m jumping between my DAO and DA2 fanfics…

I got so burned out on Dragon Age in 2019… but here I go again, deep diving 😅 hopefully this time I’ve learned to pace myself… hopefully

[marvel1012]

White Rabbit

A/N: A self-indulgent little fic for my Shadow Dragon Rook. I headcanon that the "foundling" origin is just a convenient cover story for reasons that will become apparent as you read. Enjoy!

Word count: 3,200 +/-

Warnings-- Human trafficking, slavery, implied sexual abuse of minors, depicted physical abuse of minors, alcohol use

————————

“Are you sure this is the way to the tavern? This street looks rather, ah, seedy.” 

“Only a few doors ahead on the left, I can assure you that we won’t miss it.”

Ser Amory Mercar cast a dubious eye at the other businesses they were passing. They sure did look like brothels– not that he had very much experience with that sort of establishment. It was hard to miss the assortment of scantily clad girls, boys, women, and men who were loitering around the doorways. They were casually sizing him up from their posts. 

He cleared his throat, “Ahem, and what did you say they specialize in at this, er, eatery?” 

Tullus, his Tevinter guide, chuckled. “My friend, tonight you will dine on the most exquisite and tender young rabbit you’ve ever tasted.” 

At last, they paused outside a closed wooden door. The guide rapped four times in a rhythm, and the door swung open to reveal a gloomy stairwell heading down into what Mercar guessed was a cellar. The other man gestured for him to go inside first. “After you.” 

Amory took a few steps inside and noted that there was no doorman, nobody at all on the inside to open the door for them. Curious. 

He paused and glanced back at his guide. The man shooed him on. “Right ahead, I’m behind you.” 

Amory proceeded down the darkened stairs. As he neared the bottom, he could hear the muffled sounds of revelry on the other side of a second closed door. 

A breathy voice in his ear made him jump. “This one’s not locked, you can push it open.” When had the damn guide gotten so close? 

For appearing quite solid and heavy, the door swung open with little effort from the Ferelden knight’s push. From the other side, Amory was assaulted by a riot of sound and color. The cellar pub was packed with men of every persuasion: old and young, Tevinter and foreigner, of wealthy and modest means. There was a mug or glass in nearly every hand, and, judging by the well stocked bar on one wall, any liquor you could imagine was on offer. Across the room there was a spirited card game going on, and over to his right, Amory noted an equally raucous arm-wrestling match taking place. 

Mixing in and around these men were young girls, draped in sheer, flowing fabrics of bright hues. The way the dresses were styled would have made them revealing on their own, but the gauzy material left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Mercar blushed and tried to avert his gaze as one of the girls brushed past. In the split second that their eyes met, the true horror of the place settled on Amory like a weight. The girl was young, very young, couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen. And she was an elf. 

“Rabbit,” he whispered under his breath. His stomach lurched. 

Tullus must have noticed him recoiling, because before he knew it, Amory was being shoved toward the bar. Suddenly there was a mug of something thrust into his hand. Based on the color, he guessed it was ale. As quickly as he’d been ushered to the bar, he was whisked over to a nearby table. It was already occupied by several other men, humans of varying station and nationality. A few of them raised their glasses to him in welcome as his guide pushed him onto the bench. 

“Well, well, Tullus. Oo eez zees we have ‘ere?” The heavily accented voice belonged to a middle-aged Orlesian woman. She was draped casually across a well-dressed man’s lap, on the opposite side of the table. Though her dress was similar in cut to the ones the girls were wearing, the material wasn’t see through. Thank the Maker, Amory thought. 

“Ah, Emmelina, just who I wanted to see. This,” the guide clapped his charge on the shoulder, “is Ser Amory Mercar. He graces our fair city as an envoy of the Arl of Amaranthine.” 

“Oooo, a Ferelden knight,” a wicked grin crept across the madam’s face, and her black eyes sparkled in the lantern light. She reminded Amory of a viper, hungry for its prey. Emmelina made a show of mock whispering into the ear of the man who was holding her, “whatever shall we do wiz such a client, Richart?” The man smiled, but maintained his thousand yard stare. He didn’t seem to be registering the commotion around him. 

Ensorceled. Mercar shuddered. 

“I’ve been instructed to treat our guest to an unforgettable evening at your establishment, madame. I’m to spare no expense on this endeavor– merely apply the cost to my lord’s account and he will see you paid in a most timely fashion.” 

Emmelina nodded. “Of course, zee pleasure is ours! As you well know, we specialize in zee unforgettable, and we rarely spare expense.” She winked knowingly at Tullus. 

In that instant, a flash of bright white at his elbow caught Amory’s attention. A girl, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old, and dressed in a dirty shift, was attempting to clear empty plates and cups from their table. Her elven ears just barely poked out from her mop of curly hair, which was white as snow and contrasted sharply with her warm, slightly golden skin tone. 

“Pardon, my lord,” she mumbled, squeezing between Amory and his guide to grab a stack of empty bowls. She moved farther down the table as Tullus and Emmelina continued their banter, oblivious to the girl’s presence. 

“And what, pray tell, is Ser Ferelden’s desire tonight, hm? We have many lovely girls to choose from, and zay will suit any taste. Perhaps our newest acquisition, Red Lily. She eez only eleven, but I assure you she’s been fully trained for–” 

“That one,” Amory pointed to the servant girl in rags, who had worked her way down the length of their table and started back up the other side. 

Emmelina looked in the direction he was pointing, and barked with laughter. “Oh, surely not, ser! Zat one is no longer available, she is, how would you say? Retired?” The man she was sitting on, Richart, seemed to be trying to laugh also, but only a series of slow grunts escaped his mouth. The madam patted him affectionately and cooed, “Yesss, your mistress is very funny, isn’t she?”

“I want that one,” Amory stated again, and turned to his guide. “That’s the one that I want, the girl with the white hair.” 

Tullus sniffed and addressed Emmelina. “Well, it seems clear that Ser Mercar has made up his mind, madame. You’ve only to name your price for a night with the white haired girl, and my master will pay it.” 

“No, no, no, you do not understand messere. Zee girl is damaged. Zat is why she is no longer working with zee clients.” Seeing that neither of the men were going to relent, she sighed.

“Richart, please bring zee girl to me.” 

Richart rose from his seat, carefully shifting Emmelina to his arms as he did so. Once he was standing, Amory was shocked by the sheer size of the man. Not only was he abnormally tall, but he was broad shouldered and well muscled. No wonder Emmelina had chosen this specimen as her magicked lap dog. 

Placing his mistress gently onto the bench, Richart turned and moved across the room to where the white haired girl had carried the dirty dishes. As he grabbed her by the arm, she yelped in protest, and seemed to barely restrain herself from trying to bite her assailant. She may have resisted the urge, but there was still murder in her eyes as she was being frog marched across the barroom floor. To Amory’s surprise, those flashing eyes were bright pink. 

As Richart returned, Emmelina hissed, “Show zem.” 

Still holding the girl’s arm, the bodyguard placed his free hand on her back between her shoulder blades and slammed her chest to the table. Rather than go face first into the rough plank surface, she managed to twist her head around at the last moment and took the impact on her left cheek. Amory thought he heard her growl through clenched teeth, but over the din of the tavern, he wasn’t sure. 

With his massive hand still planted firmly on the center of the girl’s back, pinning her to the table, Richart let go of her arm and pulled aside the tangle of snowy curls obscuring her face. As he moved her hair away, a thick, angry red scar was revealed. It ran diagonally from the corner of the girl’s mouth nearly to her hairline, bisecting her cheek. The wound had been deep– whoever had made the cut was clearly intent on ruining her looks. Tullus’s hand flew to his mouth in shock. 

The girl’s pink eyes, burning with rage, stayed fixed on Emmelina as the older woman placed a dainty finger on her face, just below the scar. She tsked. “A jealous rival did zees to her. A pity, as zee White Rabbit was one of our top earners.” 

Tullus turned to his charge, clearly expecting him to change his mind now that he’d seen the wound. Instead, Amory set his jaw. “I don’t care. I want this girl. And I’m done arguing about it.” 

The guide regarded Emmelina once more. All pretense of diplomacy was gone from his expression. “Well? You heard the man.” 

The Orelsian madam groaned and rolled her eyes, “Very well, if zat is what you want, Ser Ferelden.” She snapped her fingers, and Richart hauled the girl back up to her feet. “I will have her bathed and delivered to your room upstairs. Tullus, you know zee one.” 

Tullus gave a little half bow and a nod, then turned to Mercar and gestured toward the door. “This way.” 

__________________________________

Roughly half an hour later, Amory was perched on the edge of a double bed in a large corner room on the second floor of the brothel. Tullus had assured him this was his master’s personal suite, and one of the largest, cleanest rooms in the building. Mercar tried hard not to imagine the twisted things Magister Ennius had done to girls in this room. Full of nervous energy, his right leg bounced up and down; his booted heel made a tapping sound as it hit the wooden floor over and over. 

Suddenly, the door to the room opened and the white haired girl was thrust inside before it slammed shut again. The rags were gone, replaced by one of the diaphanous shifts like the other girls had been wearing. Her curls formed a white halo around her head, so clean they were practically shimmering in the lantern light. 

Amory had found his feet without realizing it. Heart hammering in his throat, he indicated a small bench on the far wall, next to the bed. “Won’t you please have a seat, miss?” 

The girl looked skeptical. “Not on the bed?”

“Ah, no. But, thank you. For– asking.” Mercar felt as nervous as a maid on her wedding night, and twice as silly. 

Once the servant had taken a seat on the bench, Amory sat on the side of the bed facing her, leaving a respectable distance between them. Clearly thrown by his awkward manners, she sat waiting for a few moments, then reached up toward the pin holding her gown together at the left shoulder. 

Amory waved his hands. “Oh, no no. You don’t have to do that. Leave your clothes on. Please.” 

From beneath knitted brows, the girl regarded him with her strange pink eyes. “What’s the matter with you? Are you– unwell?”

The Ferelden knight sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, I’m starting to think that perhaps I am.” 

At that, white hair crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. “Well, I don’t know what Emmelina promised you, but I’m not doing anything gross or weird.” She turned to look out the open window at the street below. “I might only be a kitchen maid now, but do I have standards.” 

Mercar’s mouth quirked up in a half grin. He couldn’t help but admire her boldness. 

“What’s your name, miss?” 

“White Rabbit.” 

“No, your real name.” 

“I told you, it’s White Rabbit.” 

Amory frowned. “You don’t have any other name besides the one they gave you here?” 

The tiniest flash of emotion flitted across the girl’s face, but then it was gone. Controlled. “I can’t remember any other name. I was too young when I was taken.” 

“Taken?” 

“Kidnapped. From my alienage. I must have been very small, because I don’t remember anything. Not my name, or my parents’ names, or even where I was from.” 

“That’s awful. I’m sorry that happened to you.” An uneasy silence fell between them. “Shall I call you White, then?” 

She shrugged. 

“I’d like to give you a new name, White. A real name.” 

“You really are daft, aren’t you?”

The knight smiled. “Probably. But I mean to take you away from this place. I’m going to get you out.” 

That earned him a mighty eye roll. How many times had she been promised an escape by some lecherous client, only to be left behind in the morning? 

“You don’t have to say all this, you know. We can just do it, and I’ll leave.” 

“No, I’m serious.. I’d like to take you back to Amaranthine with me, when I’m recalled by the Arl.” 

White arched a skeptical brow. “Uh huh. You think Emmelina’s just going to let you walk out of here with me?” 

“With the “White Rabbit”? No. With the scar faced chamber maid that cleans the bar? Sure. I will ask Magister Ennius to purchase you for me, to act as my house servant. Then you can leave with me when I return to my home.” 

“There aren’t slaves in Ferelden, though.” 

“No, we don’t have slaves there. But you won’t be one. I’m going to free you, adopt you, and bring you to Amaranthine as my ward.” 

The pieces were dropping together in her mind, he could see it. Her next words were barely more than a whisper. “Why me?” 

“Because I can see the fire inside of you, White. Believe it or not, I have a fire inside of me, too.” He moved to sit beside her on the bench, so he could speak more quietly. If she felt uncomfortable with his proximity, she hid it well. “I’m part of a secret organization that wants to shut down the slave trade here in Tevinter. That’s why I specifically requested to be posted in Minrathous. You know more about the trade than I ever will, because you’ve been in it. In exchange for your freedom, and an education, I’d like your help.” 

“But there are so many of us here, they bring in girls younger than me almost every week.” Her fingers absently drifted to the puffy red scar on her face, caressing it. “What about the rest of them?” 

Amory shook his head. “You’re thinking of them, even after they did that to you?” 

White’s expression darkened. “It hurts, but I can’t hate them for it. This place does things to you, to your mind, and to your heart. We’re just trying to survive.” 

The knight felt ashamed of his hasty reaction. Of course the other girls were just doing what they felt they had to do. By the Maker’s breath, they were all children. 

“I say, take that hurt and turn it back on the people who’ve done this to you, and to them. White, if you come with me, I promise I’ll give you the tools to make that happen. You’ll come back, and you’ll burn this wicked place to the ground.” 

For the first time since they’d met, a soft grin spread across the girl’s face. A little flicker of hope. “I’d like that.” 

Mercar nodded, and stood. “Aye, I thought you might.” He extended his hand. “Now, let’s get out of here.” 

_______________________________

A cold winter’s night, about 10 years later…

“Let’s go, go. Down the alleyway, move,” the Shadow Dragon operative hissed as he herded a small group of elven girls between two dilapidated buildings. Further down the cobbled street they’d just left, the cry of “Fire!” went up. Before long, the burning building across the way would be surrounded by curious onlookers and those trying to douse the flames. They had to get the newly liberated slaves away, as quickly as they could.

And yet, when Gavros turned around to ask his partner which way they should go, he found her still standing at the end of the alley. She was staring across the street at the inferno that was quickly devouring the structure of the brothel. 

He called to her as loudly as he dared, “Rook! What are you doing?” 

She didn’t react. 

“Rook! Come on! We have to move!” Still no response. He turned to the huddled mass of girls, instructed them to stay. Running back down the alley, he grabbed the other agent’s arm and spun her around to face him. She was slender and petite, but her spare frame and pretty face belied the vengeful freedom fighter she had become. Gavros knew exactly what she was capable of– knew that her black leather vest was soaked in the blood of the slavers they’d just killed, even if he couldn’t see it. To his surprise, a tear escaped the elven woman’s eye and ran over the pale scar that crossed her cheek.

He had been Valyssa’s partner for years, but he’d never, not once, seen her cry. Not even after the most difficult and heartbreaking missions. Not once. But they didn’t have time to unpack whatever this was. He shook her. Using her real name was a risk, but he took it. “Valyssa! Hey! What are you doing?” 

Suddenly, she seemed to come back to herself. Recognition bloomed in her vibrant pink eyes. “Gav?” 

“I mean obviously! Come on, we have to go! They’re counting on us!” He gestured toward the slaves they’d just rescued.

Lys looked over at the girls, and then back to the burning building. For one stomach dropping second, Gavros got the impression that she meant to run inside. He tightened his hold on her arms. “Lys?” 

“This is why I came back here, Gav. To Tevinter. This is why I joined the Shadows. This is what I’ve been fighting for. All of it, it’s all been for this. And now that it’s done I–” her voice broke. Another one of those damnable tears. There was something significant going on inside his friend, but their heart to heart would have to wait. 

“It’s not done, Lys. Our work is never done. You have to keep going! For these girls! And for the ones we’ll rescue tomorrow! Now come on!” 

Valyssa Mercar drew a long, ragged breath. Somewhere along the way, between exacting her revenge and freeing the girls, her tangled ringlets, dyed teal blue, had bounced free of her hood. She pulled the fabric back over her head and nodded to her partner. “Let’s go.”

[jcmarchi]

A Deep Dive Into BioWare's Companion Design Philosophy In Dragon Age: The Veilguard

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/a-deep-dive-into-biowares-companion-design-philosophy-in-dragon-age-the-veilguard/

A Deep Dive Into BioWare's Companion Design Philosophy In Dragon Age: The Veilguard

During my visit to BioWare in its Edmonton, Canada, office earlier this year for the current Game Informer cover story on Dragon Age: The Veilguard, I heard a sentiment repeated throughout the day from the game’s leads: in past Dragon Age games, BioWare stumbled onto great companions, but with Veilguard, it’s the first game where the studio feels it purposefully and intentionally created great companions. As such, those companions are key to everything happening in Veilguard. 

With such a significant emphasis on these characters, I spoke to some of the game’s leads to learn precisely about BioWare’s philosophy on companions in Veilguard. 

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“No, that is the case,” BioWare general manager Gary McKay tells me when I ask if he agrees with the stumbled-onto-greatness sentiment. “I would first start with Dragon Age – each installment in this franchise has been different, so we didn’t set out to make a game that was a sequel or the same game as before. We really wanted to do something different and we did push the envelope in a couple of areas, companions being one of them. Once we got knee deep into it, we really realized we had something special with these companions, again, around the motivations, the story arc, and it really started to become the centerpiece for this game.” 

The Philosophy Behind Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Companions

Game director Corinne Busche agrees, adding that Veilguard’s companions are “the most fully realized complex companions we’ve ever crafted.” She also believes they’re the Dragon Age series’ best. “They’re complicated, they have complicated problems, and that’s what’s interesting,” she continues. “As much as I adore the companions and the journeys I’ve been on with them in past Dragon Age titles – previously, it feels like companions are going on an adventure with me, the main character, whether it’s the Hero of Ferelden or Hawke, you name it. But in [Veilguard], in many ways, the companions are so fleshed out that it feels as though I’m going on a journey with them. I’m exploring how they think and feel; I’m helping them through their problems. We’re working through their unique character arcs. They feel like my dear friends, and I absolutely adore them.”

Busche says these companions participate in the game’s darker and more optimistic parts. “We’ve really moved into a place where you can have the highest of highs, and it can be colorful, it can be optimistic, but also, you can have the lowest of lows where it gets gritty, it gets painful, it gets quite dark. But throughout it all, there is a sense of optimism. And it creates this delightful throughline throughout the game.” 

When I ask creative director John Epler about BioWare’s philosophy behind Veilguard’s companions, he reveals a phrase the studio uses: Dragon Age is about characters, not causes. 

“What that means for us is […] let’s take the Grey Wardens, for example – the Grey Wardens are an interesting faction but by themselves, they don’t tell a story, but there are characters within that faction that do,” he tells me. “And the same thing with other characters in the story. They represent these factions, they show the face of the other parts of Thedas and of the storytelling we really want to do, which, again, shows Thedas as this large, diverse living world that has things going on when you’re not there.”

Epler says one of BioWare’s principles when creating Veilguard was that the world exists even when you – Rook – are not around. There are things, ancient conflicts, grudges, and more, that happen even when Rook isn’t participating in them, he says. 

“You kind of come in ‘in media res’ in some of these, so that’s where we wanted to go with the companions,” he says. “They have stories of their own. Where can Rook come into these stories, and what interesting ways can those stories develop not just based on themselves but also based on Rook’s presence within them?”

Dragon Age series art director Matt Rhodes adds that companions are the load-bearing pillars for everything in Veilguard, so “when you’re designing them, it’s not just designing a character; they’re the face for their faction, the face for, in [some cases like Bellara Lutara], an entire area of the world.” From his aesthetic-forward part of developing companions in Veilguard as the game’s art director, he tells me Veilguard’s characters are (hopefully) going to give cosplayers a challenge. 

“The previous art director had the mindset we should make things easier for [cosplayers], which I think is a misunderstanding of cosplayers,” Rhodes says. “We’ve seen the kind of challenges they’re willing to take on, and so we’ve gone for, in some cases, a level of complexity and detail that I hope a lot of them are excited to rise to the challenge for.” 

A Quick Detour: Neve Gallus

As Neve Gallus is the companion I spent the most time with during my visit to BioWare, I asked Epler about this character and her role in the game. Here’s what I learned: “So Neve is a private investigator in Minrathous. Minrathous is the capital city of the Tevinter Empire. It’s also a mage-ocracy; mages run the entirety of the Empire – they’re all-powerful. A lot of them still believe in slavery, they keep slaves, it’s a very oppressive, totalitarian regime. And Neve is a member of the Shadow Dragons, which is a rebel faction within Thedas that fights back against this mage-ocracy, fights back against this oppressive, very damaging regime that’s taken over the city, because she believes there’s good, and she is there for the common people. So if you’re not a mage in Tevinter, you are lower than dirt for a lot of people. She and the Shadow Dragons, in general, fight back, but Neve, in particular, is this character that represents this more, ‘voice of the streets, the voice of the common people.’ In previous Dragon Age games, you go to Orlais, you meet Emperor Celene, you meet Briala; we wanted to have a character that showed not just what is Tevinter at the top, but what is the average person who lives in Tevinter. And she is very much about, again, fighting oppression, fighting tyranny and, as a private investigator, finding clues and ways through problems that aren’t maybe as action-focused as some of the other companions.”

Companions, In And Out Of Combat 

Rook’s companions in Veilguard have roles both in and out of combat, but since I only saw a few hours of this game (which is sure to be multiple dozens of hours long), I wanted to ask Busche about these roles and how they play out. Here’s what I learned: 

In Combat

Bushce: “So companions as realized characters, we have to take that premise when we talk about how they show up in combat. These are their own people. They have their own behaviors; they have their own autonomy on the battlefield; they’ll pick their own targets. As their plots progress, they’ll learn how to use their abilities more competently, and it really feels like you’re fighting alongside these realized characters in battle. So I love that, I love the believability of it. It feels like we’re all in it together. 

“But then when it comes time for the strategy, and the progression I might add, that’s where a sense of teamwork comes into play as the leader of this party as Rook. When I open the ability wheel, I almost feel like we’re huddling up. We’re coming up with a game plan together. I see all the abilities that Harding has, and I see all that Bellara is capable of, and sometimes I’m using vulnerabilities synergistically. Maybe I’m slowing time with Bellara so that I can unleash devastating attacks with Harding, knocking down the enemy, and then me as Rook, rushing in and capitalizing on this setup they’ve created for me. It is a game about creating this organic sense of teamwork. 

“Now, there are more explicit synergies as well. We very much have intentional combos where your companions can play off each other, you can queue up abilities between them, and each of those abilities will go off and have their effect. But it results in this massive detonation where you get enhanced effects, debuff the entire battlefield, all because of planning and teamwork. What makes it really cool is you can introduce Rook into that equation as well. One of my favorite things to do is upgrade some of Harding’s abilities so she will automatically use some of these abilities that normally I’d have to instruct her to do. And she’ll actually set my character up to execute that combo that, again, has that detonation effect.” 

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Outside Combat

Busche: “It’s one of my favorite topics. I talked about the idea that these are fully realized characters, that they’re very authentic and relatable. So outside of combat, what that means is they’re going to have their own concerns, fears, distractions, and indeed, even their own sanctuaries, their own personal spaces. In our base of operations this time, our player hub, the Lighthouse, each of the companions has their own room. And what I love about it is it becomes a reflection of who they are. The more time you spend with them, as the game develops as you work through their arc, their room and their personalities will evolve and flourish and become more complete as they trust you more and you understand them better. 

“What’s interesting, you mentioned romance, the companions also develop romantically and I’m not just talking about with the main character Rook; I’m talking about each other. There are moments in the game where two of our companions fell in love with each other and I had to make some pretty challenging choices as it related to the quest we’re on. And it broke my heart, it absolutely did [Editor’s Note: I get the sense Busche is talking about a specific playthrough of Veilguard here – not a definitive sequence of events for every playthrough]. 

“So I would say, as you’re adventuring with them, as you’re returning to the Lighthouse and getting to know them – all these decisions and conversations and things you learn about them – it endears them to you in a way that I honestly haven’t experienced before. And sometimes that fills me with joy and sometimes it breaks my heart.” 

For more about the game, including exclusive details, interviews, video features, and more, click the Dragon Age: The Veilguard hub button below.

[felassan]

Dragon Age development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

Some really tasty factoids here.

Cut for length.

Dragon Age: Origins

The continent of Thedas was at one point going to be named Pelledia, a name initially floated by James Ohlen

“Qunari” was a temporary name that ended up unintentionally sticking, much like “Thedas”

Mary Kirby wrote the Landsmeet. To this day, nobody understands how it works, except possibly her. If she’s “really really drunk” she can explain how it works. There’s as many words in it as Sten’s entire conversations put together

Concept art for Thedosian art - as in in-world art - draws heavily on Renaissance-era portraiture, the Art Nouveau movement, religious styles and media like stained glass, and favorite pieces from the golden age of illustrations in the early 20th century

Andrastianism in-world (art-wise) is depicted in wildly different methods depending on who in-world made the art in question. “One religion, 3 different lenses”. There’s the Chantry take, the Orlesian take and the Fereldan take; each with its own different interpretations, different mediums and different stories

The stained glass images were drawn by Nick Thornborrow for DAI, to decorate religious spaces in that game “and beyond”

irl Viking art influenced Ferelden

Greek and Italian art influenced Orlais

The book also had other insights into and anecdotes from the development of DAO, but I’ve transcribed them recently as they’re essentially the stories DG has recently been relating on the awesome Summerfall Studios DAO playthrough Twitch streams. (On those streams he provides dev commentary while Liam Esler plays through DA. The ones with DG are currently once every two weeks. Check them out! Here’s a calendar where you can check when the next one is) Instead of repeating myself I’ll just provide the link to the first transcript. From there you can navigate to the subsequent parts. Note these streams are ongoing. At this point I will also point you to a related post which is cliff notes of the Dragon Age chapter in Jason Schreier’s book Blood Sweat and Pixels.

Dragon Age II

DAO had the longest development period in BioWare history. In contrast DA2 had the shortest

Initially DA2 was going to be an expansion to DAO. A few months in EA said “Yeah, expansions like these don’t sell very well, so let’s make it a sequel.” So it suddenly became DA2 and they had to make it even bigger, although they still only had 1.5 years of time in which to do this

Production of DA2 officially lasted only 9 months, and at the time the team was still supporting live content for DAO! They finished development that January after the design team crunched all the way through the holiday period that year. Then it went to cert 9 times

The limited time they had is why the story takes place mostly in and around 1 city, and over 7 years (so it was temporal, rather than over physical distance, because a more expansive world would have taken more irl time to make)

They had no time to review even the main plot. Mike Laidlaw pitched the idea of 3 stories taking place at different points in the PC’s life, tied together by Varric’s recollections of events. DG rolled with this and made 1 presentation on the idea. This presentation was then approved and off they went

As they were writing DG realized that there was going to be no oversight and that everything was going to be a ‘first draft’. “Because nobody had time.” He sat down with the writers and said “Look, here’s the conditions we’re working under. A lot of what we’re putting out is gonna be raw. We’re not going to get the editing we need. We’re not going to get the kind of iteration we need. So I’m going to trust you all to do your best work.”

Looking back, DG has mixed feelings on DA2. “A lot of corners were cut. The public perception was that it was smaller than DAO. That’s a sin on its own.”

Despite this he thinks DA2 has some of the best writing in the series, especially character-wise. The DA2 chars are his favorite

The pace with which production progressed may in some ways have helped. “When we do a lot of revision, we often file away [as in buff off] some of the good writing as well. Somehow DA2′s whirlwind process resulted in some really good writing”

The pace meant chars landed on the writers in various stages of completion. For example Isabela was fairly defined due to appearing in DAO. In contrast Varric at the start was just that single piece of widely-shown concept art

Varric was conceived as a storyteller not a fighter. His skills are talking and bullshitting. Hence the question became, so what does this guy do in combat? The direction was to make him as different as possible to Oghren, so not a warrior. He couldn’t be a dual-wielding rogue in order to differentiate him from Bela. But you can’t really picture this guy with a bow. “For a dwarf, it would probably be a crossbow. We didn’t have crossbows, or we only had crossbows for the darkspawn. And they were part of the models. We didn’t have a separate crossbow that was equip-able by the chars. They had to like, crop one off a darkspawn and remodel it. And that became Bianca” (quote: Mary Kirby)

“Dwarven mages are exceedingly rare.” [???]

If DAO was a classic fantasy painting, DA2 was a screenshot from a Kurosawa film or a northern Renaissance painting. (Here Matt Rhodes was commenting on art style)

John Epler: “In any one of our games, there’s a 95% chance that if you turn the camera away from what it’s looking at, you’ll see all kinds of janky stuff. The moment we know the camera is no longer facing someone, we no longer care what happens to them. We will teleport people around. We will jump people around. We will literally have someone walk off screen and then we will shift them 1000 meters down, because we’re fixing some bug.” John also talked about this camera stuff in a recent charity Twitch stream for Gamers For Groceries. There’s a writeup of that stream here

Designing Kirkwall pushed concept artists to the limits of visual storytelling, because it has a long history that they wanted to be present. It was once the hub of Tevinter’s slave empire, so it needed to look brutal and harsh, but it also then needed to feel reclaimed, evolved, and with elements of contemporary Free Marches culture

The initial plan was for DA titles to be distinguished by subtitles not numbers, so that each experience could stand on its own rather than feel like a sequel or continuation. (My note: New PCs in each entry make sense then when you consider this and other factoids we know like how DA is the story of the world not of any one PC). Later, DA2′s name was made DA2 in a bid to more clearly connect the game to its predecessor. For DAI they returned to the original naming convention. (My note: so I’d reckon they’d be continuing the subtitle naming convention for DA4)

DA2 was initially code-named “Nug Storm”, strictly internally

The Cancelled DA2 Expansion - Exalted March

This was a precursor to DAI

It was meant to bridge the gap between DA2 and DAI

It focused on the fallout from Kirkwall’s explosion, with Cory serving as the villain

Meredith’s red lyrium statue was basically going to infest Kirkwall and it would end up [with what would end up] the red templars taking over Kirkwall and essentially being Cory’s army

To stop him Hawke would have recruited various factions, including Bela’s Felicisima Armada and the Qunari at Estwatch, forcing Hawke to split loyalties and risk relationships in the process

It was meant to bring DA2′s story to an end and end in Varric’s death. DG was very happy with this because all of DA2 is Varric’s tale. The expansion was supposed to start at the moment Cassandra’s interrogation of him ended in the present. “And we finished off the story with Varric having this heroic death.” It tied things up and would have broken many fan hearts, something BioWare writers notoriously enjoy. But between a transition to the new Frostbite engine and the scope of DAI, the decision was made to cancel EM, work any hard-to-lose concepts into DAI, and in the process save Varric’s life. DG has talked about the Varric dying thing before

Concept art for EM explored new areas previously not depicted in the DA universe, with costumes that reflected next steps for familiar chars. Varric was going to war, what would he have worn? With Anders, if he survived DA2, the plan was to present a redeemed Warden

A char that vaguely resembled Sera in DAI was first concepted for EM. This fact was mentioned near this concept art (see the female elf) and this concept art of Bethany with the blond bob

The writers sketched out plans to end it with Hawke having the option to marry their LI. This included alternate ceremonies for party members like Bethany and Sebastian if the player opted not to wed. There was even a wedding dress made for Hawke. This asset made it into DAI (Sera and Cullen’s weddings in Trespasser). The dress can also be seen in DAI during an ambient NPC wedding after completing a chain of war table missions

The destruction of a Chantry was explored in concept art as it might have happened in EM. This idea ended up carrying over to the beginning of DAI. (My note: Lol, the idea that DA2 could have had 2 Chantries being destroyed in it 😆)

World of Thedas

Sheryl Chee and Mary Kirby started with “a disgusting little dish called fluffy mackerel pudding”. In the middle of DAO’s busy dev period one of them (they can’t remember who) found a recipe online for this, scanned in from a 70s cookbook. “I don’t understand why it was fluffy. Why would you want fluffy mackerel pudding?” MK says. “We loved it so much we included it in a DAO codex.”

This led them to create more food for Thedas, full recipes included, like a Fereldan turnip and barley stew from MK and SC’s Starkhaven fish and egg pie. The fish pie became Sebastian’s favorite. “To me it made sense for it to be fish pie because a lot of the Free Marches are on the coast”, SC says, “It was something that was popular in medieval times, so I thought, let’s make a fish pie! I looked at medieval recipes and I concocted a fish pie which I fed to my partner, and he was like ‘This is not terrible’”

For WoT the whole studio was asked to contribute family recipes which might have a place in Thedas. SC adapted these to fit in one Thedosian culture or another, including a beloved banana bread that localization producer Melanie Fleming would regularly bake to keep the DA team motivated. “Melanie’s banana bread got us through Inquisition”

DAI

It says part of DAI takes place in or near the border with Nevarra [???]

This game was aimed to be bigger than DA2 and even DAO in every conceivable way

The first hour had to do a lot of heavy lifting, tying together the events of DAO and DA2 while introducing a new PC, new followers etc in the aftermath of the big attack. DG rewrote it 7 times then Lukas Kristjanson did 2 more passes

DG: “Our problem is always that our endings are so important, but we leave them to last, when we have no time. I kept pushing on DAI: ‘Can we work on the ending now? Can we work on the ending now? Can we do it early on?’ Because I knew exactly what it was going to be. But despite the fact that it kept getting scheduled, whenever the schedule started falling behind, it kept getting pushed back... so, of course, it got left til last again.”

“The reveal of the story’s real antagonist, Solas, a follower until the end, when he betrayed the player”. “Solas’ story remains a main thread in Inquisition’s long-awaited follow-up” [these aren’t DG quotes, just bits of general text]

Over the course of development they had 8 full-time writers and 4 editors working on it. Other writers joined later to help wrangle what ended up being close to 1 million words of dialogue and unspoken text. While many teams moved to a more open concept style of work for DAI, the writers remained tucked away in their own room, a choice DG says was necessary, given how much they talked. All the talking had a purpose ofc as if someone hit a bump or wall in their writing they would open the problem up to the room

As writing on a project like DAI progresses, the writers grow punchier and weirder things make it into the game. This is especially the case towards the end of a project (they get tired, burned out)

Banter and codexes require less ‘buy-in’ (DG has talked about this concept a few times on the Twitch streams) from other designers. DG liked to leave banter for last as a reward because it was fun. Banter begins as lists of topics for 2 followers to discuss. These may progress over time or be one off exchanges. One banter script can balloon to well over 10k words. “The banter was always huge because we were always like, laughing, and really at that point, our fields of fucks were rather barren, so we would just do whatever”

The bog unicorn happened pretty much by accident. It was designed by Matt Rhodes and was one of his fav things to design. They needed horse variations and he had already designed an undead variant which was a bog mummy [bog body]. irl these are preserved in a much different way to traditional mummies. When someone dies in a bog their skin turns black and raisin-like. The examples we know of tend to have bright red hair for whatever reason. It’s a very striking look and MR wanted to do a horse version of this as he thought it’d be neat. 5 mins before the review meeting for it he had a big ‘Aha!’ moment, quickly looked up a rusty old Viking sword, and photoshopped it through its skull like that was how it died. “And I was like, ‘I just made a unicorn. Alright, in it goes!’” It got approved. “So we built the thing. It fit. It told a little story”

With the irl Inquisition longsword, one of the objects they tested its cleaving ability on was a plush version of Leliana’s nug Schmooples

The concept art team explored a wide variety of visuals for the Inquisitor’s signature mark. It needed to look powerful and raw but couldn’t look like a horrific wound. In some cases, as cool as the idea looked on paper, they just weren’t technically feasible, especially as they had to be able to fit on any number of different bodies

Bug report: “Endlessly spawning mounts! At one point during development, Inquisitors could summon a new horse every time they whistled, allowing them to amass a near infinite number of eager steeds that faithfully followed them across Thedas. “You could go charging across levels and they’d all gallop behind you,” Jen Cheverie says, “It was beautiful.” Trotting into town became an epic horse siege as a tidal wave of mounts enveloped the streets. Jen called it her Army of Ponies”

The giants came from DA Week, an internal period when devs can pursue different individual creative projects that in some way benefit DA. They also had a board game from one of these that they were going to put in but they didn’t have time. It’s referenced though. It was dwarven chess

Josie’s outfit is made of gold silk and patterned velvet, with leather at her waist. She carries “an ornate ledger” and she has “an ornamented collar sitting around her neck, finished by a brilliant red ruby, like a drop of Antivan wine in a sunbeam”

Iron Bull’s armor is leather. His loose pantaloons and leather boots give him agility to charge

On DAI in particular, concept artists took special care to make sure costumes would be realistic, at least in a practical ‘this obeys the laws of physics and textiles’ sense. “While on Inquisition, we thought about cosplay from a concept art perspective. Given how incredible a lot of [cosplays] are, I now am not worried about them. In fact in some cases in the future I want to throw them curveballs like, ‘All right, you clever bastards. Let’s see if you can do this!’”

2 geese that nested on the office building and had chicks were named Ganders and Arishonk (it wasn’t known who was the mom or the dad). Other possible names were Carver Honke, Bethany Honke, Urdnot Pecks, Quackwall, Cassandra Pentagoose, the Iron Bill, Shepbird, Garroose, Admiral Quackett, Scout Honking, HChick-47 and Darth Malgoose

Bug report: “The surprising adventures of Ser Noodles!” DAI was the first time the series had a mount feature, meaning this had a lot of bugs. A lot of the teams’ favorite bugs were to do with the mounts. There was a period of time where the Inquisitor’s horse seemed to lose all bone and muscle in its legs. They had a week or so where all quadruped legs were broken. It was a bit noticeable in things like nugs and other small beasties but the horse was insanely obvious. “The first time we summoned the horse [for this] and started running around, the entire QA exploration room just exploded with laughter.” Its legs flapped around like cooked fettucine, leading testers to lovingly nickname it Ser Noodles. At galloping speeds the legs almost looked like helicopter blades, especially when footage was set to classic pieces such as Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries

For DAI the artists were asked questions like “What would Morrigan wear to a formal ball? Can Cassandra pull off a jaunty hat?”

On DAI storyboarding became the norm. John Epler: “Cinematic design for the longest time was the Wild West. It was ‘here’s a bunch of content, now do it however you want’, which resulted in some successes and some failures.” Storyboarding gave designers a consistent visual blueprint based on ideas from designers, writers and concept artists

Quote from a storyboard by Nick Thornborrow (the Inquisitor going into the party at the end of basegame sequence): “Until Corypheus revealed himself they could not see the single hand behind the chaos. A magister and a darkspawn combined. The ultimate evil. So evil. Eviler than puppy-killers and egg farts combined.”

A general note on concept art:

In the early stages of any project, before the concept artists are aware of any writing, they like to just draw what they think cool story moments could be. It’s not unusual for the team to then be inspired by these and fold them into the game as the project progresses

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

[dreadfutures]

Inquisitor as a Companion: Ixchel Lavellan

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀)

Here is Ixchel’s (fake) DA Wiki page, if she were a companion. Meme started by @little-lightning-lavellan​​ , so tag her if you do this!

(Find this on AO3, where I will add Location Comments and dialogue options as I think of them.)

Ixchel is an elven warrior and activist. She is a potential companion in Dragon Age: Inquisition. (WIP Tarot art by me. :) )

Background

Ixchel likely originated in southern Ferelden, but the events of the Fifth Blight drove her northward. She encountered several Dalish clans who did not take her in, possibly due to the limited resources available due to the encroaching Darkspawn hordes, or perhaps because she does not appear to be fully-elven. Ixchel has smaller, rounder ears than normal for an elf, though they are longer and sharper than that of a human. The orphan stowed away on a boat to the Free Marches, where she found no refuge in Kirkwall or the major cities and took to wandering the countryside in search of food and shelter. During this time, Ixchel encountered Clan Lavellan outside of Markham, but she did not remain.

After the Archdemon’s defeat, Ixchel returned to Ferelden, as she felt drawn to the traces of elven history she had found there as a child. There, she encountered a Warden who helped her read a word that she found in a ruin: Ixchel.

Sometime between 9:34-9:37 dragon, Ixchel reappeared outside of Markham, calling herself by this new name. In 9:37 Dragon, a particularly harsh winter drove the Lavellan Clan to seek out the orphan and took her in to teach her to hunt and fend for herself better. She proved to have a keen mind for learning, and a drive to prove her value. She remained with the Clan for two years. In 9:41 Dragon, she volunteered to go to the Conclave in Haven as a spy, due to her ability to pass as human and travel largely unnoticed. She is roughly sixteen years old.

Involvement

Dragon Age: Origins

A Dalish Warden can potentially encounter Ixchel as part of the Lead Her Through the Darkness side-quest in Dragon Age Origins: Witch Hunt DLC. She appears as a precocious, nameless orphan less than ten years of age. She has written a word on her arm in ash and asks the Warden to translate it. It is unclear if the name is Elven or Tevene in origin, but the Warden translates it as Ixchel (ihsh-chEL).

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Ixchel can only be recruited after relocation to Skyhold and beginning the A Fallen Sister side quest in the Emerald Graves. After freeing the prisoners from the Veridium Mine, the Inquisitor will come across Ixchel under attack by a group of Freemen. The Inquisitor will help Ixchel defeat the Chevaliers, for which she expresses gratitude.

A Dalish Inquisitor has the option to call her “da’len” and express relief that she escaped the Conclave. Ixchel explains that she fled Haven after the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and went in search of a Dalish Clan (see: The Knights’ Tomb) to take her in. On her way, she saw the harm caused by the Civil War in Orlais. She sees how much good the Inquisition can do and offers her services to help uproot the Freemen of the Dales and fight Corypheus. Her travels and experiences have made her well-suited to consider the needs of elves, both among alienages and the Dalish, as well as humans. Ixchel cannot be recruited if Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts has been completed.

In Skyhold, Ixchel can be found in the center of the courtyard by the main stairway, either near the Training Ring (if Skyhold is upgraded) or near the City and Dalish elven NPCs who often argue there.

If Ixchel and Solas are in a party together, they will develop a fast mentoring relationship as Ixchel asks Solas about his dreams in various locations they have traveled. He will comfort her after she expresses anger at the treatment of elves in Halamshiral and gently encourage her to take action. She will argue with him about his scorn for the Dalish and insist on the merits of their resilience and efforts to reclaim their heritage after centuries of oppression.

After accessing the Exalted Plains from the War Table, Ixchel will approach the Inquisitor in Skyhold and ask to meet with Hawen’s Clan. The dialogue options vary depending on whether the Inquisitor has yet discovered that the Dalish have been killed at Din’an Hanin. Ixchel is worried about the Clan’s proximity to the front of the Orlesian Civil War.

When Hawen’s clan is first encountered, a Dalish scout will address Ixchel as “flat-ear.” Ixchel is deeply upset by this and explains to the Inquisitor that it is because Ixchel does not have vallaslin and that she doesn’t appear as fully elven. A Dalish Inquisitor has the option to reassure Ixchel of her place in Clan Lavellan with or without the vallaslin. If the Inquisitor wins high approval among Hawen’s Clan, Hawen offers to formally adopt Ixchel by giving her vallaslin and initiates the Inner Circle Quest, Inward Glory.

Ixchel hesitates to accept the honor. Ixchel wants to learn the history of the vallaslin and asks the Inquisitor to help her learn how the practice has evolved from enslaved elves in Tevinter, to the elves of the Dales, to the modern Dalish Clans. The Inquisitor must contact researchers in Tevinter, Orlais, and Varric’s contact with the Dalish--Merrill.

Completion of Inward Glory is followed by another Inner Circle quest, Proudly Crowned Withal. Ixchel meets with the Inquisitor and Solas to review what she learned and make her final decision. The Inquisitor can encourage Ixchel to honor her heritage and take the vallaslin, tell her that she can serve her People better as a human-passing spy without vallaslin, or tell her that she has proven that she cares for the elves and belongs to them whether she shows it on her face or not.

If she is told not to take the vallaslin, she will not, but she Greatly Disapproves. Solas will Disapprove of all options. A Dalish Inquisitor has the added option to tell her that the Inquisitor, as well as the Lavellan Keeper, considered her to be part of Clan Lavellan even without the vallaslin. If Ixchel is told to accept, or if the Inquisitor lets Ixchel choose herself, she will accept Hawen’s offer.

A Dalish Inquisitor who has completed their romance with Solas will have the option to ask Solas to tell Ixchel the truth about the vallaslin. A Dalish Inquisitor who removed her own vallaslin has the opportunity to tell Ixchel one-on-one. Ixchel will reveal that Solas in fact told her the truth before the completion of her personal quest, and Ixchel made her decision knowingly.

After completing Ixchel's Inner Circle quests, new missions will appear on the War Table. Ixchel wants the Inquisition to work with factions like the Red Jennies, Briala's spy network, and even members of Celene's court to make reparations for Empress Celene's burning of the Halamshiral alienage, to put an end to the Val Royeaux Chevaliers' tradition of hunting City elves in the alienage streets after dark, and to restore self-governance to the alienage in Denerim, whose freedoms were restricted after the events of the Fifth Blight.

Trespasser:

If the Inquisitor has high approval with Ixchel, the warrior has devoted her time to activism in Orlais’ alienages, potentially allying with Briala. Ambient dialogue in the Winter Palace indicates that she and her movement are reviled by members of the Orlesian court, and the ruler of the Empire is considering a preventative strike for fear of a violent uprising.

If the Inquisitor did not win high approval with Ixchel, she still appears at the Exalted Council to reunite with friends in the Inner Circle. She reveals that she spent the intervening time between Inquisition and Trespasser traveling the world with Morrigan (or Morrigan and Kieran) to continue research in Ancient Elvhen history, as well as sowing rebellion--which she calls mien’harel-- in alienages across Thedas. She is saddened that the Inquisitor has still heard no word from Solas.

In the Epilogue, if the Inquisitor has resolved to kill Solas, Ixchel vanishes. She leaves a note to a high-approval Inquisitor saying that she is sorry but she has gone to find a third option to thwart Solas. If the Inquisitor instead chooses to convince Solas to change his plans, Ixchel remains allied with the Inquisition as she redoubles her efforts to unite elves across Thedas against oppression, and to actively counter Fen’Harel’s recruitment.

Approval

Ixchel appreciates honesty and empathy in Inquisitors. Given her upbringing outside of both human and elven customs, she is skeptical of actions motivated by religion. She is generally supportive of increasing freedom and understanding between groups like Mages and Templars and humans and elves.

She is curious and precocious, and she approves of exploring magic and history without bias. She is unlike other companions in that, if she is met with anger or scorn, her approval does not change. Dialogue options that mock or disrespect other members of the Inquisition and their beliefs, even those she does not get along with outright like Sera, will net disapproval.

Ability Tree/Specialization

Ixchel is a two-handed warrior with access to the Champion specialization tree. She begins with a two-handed greataxe.

Combat comments

Kills an enemy

“Push them back!”

“Move and parry, strike and kill!”

“Did you see that?”

Low Health

“Come and get it!”

“I’m taking you with me!”

“Not sure how much longer I can hold…”

Low Health (Companions)

(Inquisitor) Inquisitor! You must keep fighting!

(Inquisitor) Lethallen, no!

(Solas) I’m coming, Solas!

Fallen Companions

(Inquisitor) Guard the Inquisitor!

(Cole) I can't lose Cole!

Companion comments about OC

Vivienne: She is certainly a quick study, but painfully earnest, that girl. It is too bad the Game is played out in court, not on the battlefield. 

Solas: A childhood free of human or Dalish dogma allows her to see the biases ingrained in many who are older or more experienced. (“She’s young and naive.”) Because she expresses empathy for those who might not appear to deserve it? *sigh* I too have expressed that such openness might only lead to heartbreak. What she told me belies a wisdom far beyond her years: ‘When we ascribe compassion to be virtues of the gods, it becomes impossible for mortals to embody them. But the Fade reflects the waking world, and Compassion, Empathy, and Justice can be found in both.’

Dorian: There are quite the depths in her, despite her stature.

Bull: You don’t see a lot of atheists outside of Par Vollen. Everyone needs to believe the world’s fucked up for a reason, that there’s something waiting for them that’s better than the crap they have to suffer. Then again, people who pick up a sword that big are usually trying to prove something. Maybe that’s it.

Sera: There are two kinds of elfy-elves--people like him [see: Solas], and people like her. She’s been like me before, hungry an’ angry. And she doesn’t want anyone to be hungry anymore, so she gets all angry. ‘Stead of lookin’ back, she looks forward. And both of ‘em forget to look right in front of their noses.

Cole: The lonely traveler [see: Dirthamen] seeks, and finds, and loses again. She is bright, but she cannot see. Where she walks, the flame catches.

Trivia

The names of Ixchel’s personal quests are from various Percy Bysshe Shelley poems

Ixchel can receive the vallaslin of Dirthamen

Ixchel’s face bears heavy scarring that she claims is due to an encounter with dragonlings

Ixchel’s in-game body model is the same height as a Dwarven Inquisitor and Scout Harding.

If Blackwall and Ixchel are in a party together, they will stand near each other. Instead of entering their idle animations, they will draw their weapons as though they are about to spar.

Ambient dialogue in Skyhold implies that she trails after Cassandra “like a loyal hound” and they frequently practice together.

[sapphim]

Mine Massacre - Cut Content

Cut content from DA2′s act 3 bone pit questline! The mine massacre quest was originally much longer than it appeared in game.

mine massacre journal entries

Go to the Bone Pit to assess the situation for Hubert. See to the workers who are sheltered in the mines. Return to Hubert in Hightown's market by day. Control of the Bone Pit was handed to the miners to settle a labor dispute. Control of the Bone Pit was wrested from Hubert to settle a labor dispute. The Bone Pit labor dispute ended when Hubert's guards killed the miners. The Bone Pit labor dispute ended when Hubert's guards killed the miners. The high dragon has returned. Kill it! The Bone Pit has been overrun by dragons. Slay them! Hubert was grateful for the dragons being eliminated. The high dragon at the Bone Pit was left to its own devices.

quest start

(Hawke completed act 1 quest The Bone Pit) Hubert: Catastrophe has struck, partner! We are ruined. Ruined! Hawke: [Calm yourself.] Don't panic. Tell me what happened. Hawke: [It figures.] It's always something with this mine. Hawke: [Spit it out.] I've no patience for hysterics. Tell me what's wrong. Hubert: A cart came back from the Bone Pit, half-wrecked, with a dozen mangled bodies! Hubert: The horse pulling the cart was the only survivor, and it does not speak! Hubert: Town full of rotten mages and not one can get answers from a horse? Hawke: [I'll go.] I'll see what's going on. Until then, try to stay calm. Hawke: [What would you do without me?] I'll check it out. You keep interrogating that horse. Hawke: [Enough. I'll deal with it.] If you've nothing relevant to add, I'll get to it. Hubert: I knew I could depend on you. Just like old times, partner!

(Hawke did not complete act 1 quest The Bone Pit) Hubert: Champion! Catastrophe has struck! I am ruined. Ruined! Hawke: [Calm yourself.] Don't panic. Tell me what happened. Hawke: [Do I know you?] Since I became Champion of Kirkwall, everyone wants a piece of me. Hawke: [Spit it out.] I've no patience for hysterics. Tell me what's wrong. Hubert: A cart came back from the Bone Pit, half-wrecked, with a dozen mangled bodies! Hubert: My mining operation could be in grave jeopardy, and no one can tell me what is going on! Hubert: I implore you, Champion! Go to the Bone Pit and set things straight! Hawke: [Isn't the Bone Pit cursed?] I've heard the place is riddled with misfortune. Why would you have a mining operation there? Hubert: I thought the rumors were exaggerated. The mine has been good for the city these last few years. Hubert: It provides hundreds of jobs for your own countrymen, Fereldan expatriates who would otherwise be on the streets. Hawke: [I'll go.] I'll see what's going on. Until then, try to stay calm. Hawke: [I have nothing better to do.] With the Undercity sewers backed up, I'll take any excuse to get out of town. Hubert: Oh thank you! I knew the Champion of Kirkwall would come to my aid. Hawke: [Maybe later.] I'll get there when I get there. Hubert: Please make time for this, Champion. With each passing moment, wealth is being lost. And lives too!

As released, Hawke goes to the bone pit, fights a high dragon, and returns with bad news for Hubert.

vanilla quest end

Hawke: A dragon attacked your mine. Everyone is dead. Hubert: Dear Maker! What of my equipment? Did it seem salvageable? Hawke: [You selfish bastard.] Unfortunately, your precious equipment didn't make it... and neither did your workers. Hawke: [Priorities first, right?] No. And neither did the workers who died trying to save it. Hawke: [Everything was razed.] The dragons scorched every last cart and shovel. Hubert: Oh, my heart! So many years of investment... I am ruined. Ruined! Hubert: I am sorry, Champion, I appreciate your help, but I sank all my coin into that rotten mine. I have nothing left to pay you. Hawke: [I'll take the mine.] Give me the Bone Pit. Perhaps in a few years I can get it back in order. Hubert: What? (Scoffs.) Fine, take it! I wash my hands of this cursed venture! Hawke: [I didn't do this for money.] I slew the dragon to protect the city. I need no coin from you. Hubert: Up-jumped bloody dog-lord.

In the cut content, however, Hawke finds Hubert’s hired guards outside the mine. Recorded audio for the cut content can be found on youtube.

cut conversation - Cara

Cara: Champion! I didn't think anyone was coming. Hawke: What happened here? Cara: The dragons caught us by surprise, coming down from the mountains. Cara: Robart, my best lieutenant, was watching for them, but... he's missing. Cara: We held back the dragons so the survivors could take shelter in the mines. Now we're clearing a way out of here. Hawke: [Are the miners safe?] You're not leaving without the miners, are you? Hawke: [So you're running away?] Better save yourselves while you can, right? Hawke: [What, are you cowards?] You should be protecting the miners. Why aren't you with them? Cara: It's not like that! We're clearing the way so they can escape before the high dragon returns. Aveline: A high dragon? So near to Kirkwall? Anders: Come now, high dragons are exceedingly rare, and I've already slain one of them. Hawke: A high dragon? Are you sure? Cara: I've read the tales of the Hero of Ferelden. The description matches. (Here the high dragon interrupts the conversation in some way.) Cara: Believe me now? We're running out of time! Cara: Champion, please go to the mines and get the workers on their feet. I'll watch the skies.

Cara: I'll guard this path. Please, see to the survivors.

Cara: Maker be with you, Champion.

Hawke finds the surviving miners in the mines.

cut conversation - Earl & Jansen

Earl: Champion, you're here! Jansen's asking for you. I fear he don't have long. Blue Hawke: Jansen. I'm here to get you to safety. We don't have much time. Purple Hawke: Jansen, my friend. You look a bit worse for the wear. Red Hawke: Jansen... help is here. Hold on.. Anders: He's dying. There is nothing I can do. Aveline: That wound has festered. It's... not good. Isabela: This one's beyond help. Fenris: The wound rots. His death is certain. Varric: That's a nasty wound. Jansen: The... Champion of Kirkwall. I knew you'd come. Earl: He's delirious. Been trying to tell me something, but I can't make it out. Jansen: I thought my life would be more than this... more than mines and dragons and that bastard Hubert. Jansen: But I gave my life to the Bone Pit, like so many others... Hawke: [I'm so sorry.] Forgive me. I would have saved you if I could. Hawke: [You're not dead yet.] Cheer up. While you still draw breath, there's hope. Hawke: [We don't have time for this.] Jansen, I need to get the miners to safety. If you've something say, make it quick. Jansen: I feel the cold creeping up. Not long till it stops my heart. Unlike Hubert, I can't live without one. Jansen: I overheard that bastard, talking to a guard—thought it was nothing till now. But he knew the dragons was coming. Earl: Hubert's a son-of-an-Orlesian-whore, but there's no way he'd leave us to die. Jansen: Listen to me! This mine's cursed—let it burn! Don't let it take another innocent life. Jansen: Please... Earl: No! No, not yet! We can still get out of this... Cara: Messere Hawke! We're too late. The dragon's returned!

Earl: Ah, Jansen. I'll drink a pint for you, my friend. Earl: If Hubert knew those dragons were coming... I'll crack his head open!

Earl: Best of luck. We're all depending on you.

After the high dragon is killed, Hubert appears outside the mine with the guards.

quest end

Earl: You saved us, Champion. When we reach Kirkwall, we'll send help for the wounded. Earl: Hubert! Now you show up? We watched our brothers die, all for your blighted pit! Hubert: How dare you! Without me, you would have starved to death in the gutters of Lowtown. Earl: That's better than filling a monster's belly! Hubert: Imbeciles! How could I predict the dragons would return? You bark like you are the only ones who lost something. Hawke: [Let's calm down.] Throwing accusations around doesn't help anyone. Hawke: [You're welcome, by the way.] In case you hadn't noticed, your dragon's dead. No need to thank me. Hawke: [Shut up, all of you.] Quit your shouting. Hubert: Yes, thank you Champion! I, for one, am both grateful and amazed... Cara: Robart? I thought you were dead. You were watching for dragons. Why didn't you warn us? Robart: Cara, I... I've got new orders now. Cara: Hubert? You knew about the dragons? Hubert: Just calm down and you'll be well compensated. Cara: Do you know how many died? And it's your fault! Keep your blood money. Hawke: [Hubert, please explain.] I assume there's a good reason you didn't tell me about the dragons. Hawke: [What were you thinking?] You knew dragons were coming and you kept it to yourself? Hawke: [You sent me here to die?] Was it your plan that the dragons would kill me? Hubert: Not at all! Hubert: Robart reported dragons in the region, but they could have gone anywhere. I simply wanted to avoid panic. Earl: And get every last hour of work out of us before we were eaten! Earl: To think I didn't believe Jansen. You motherless bastard! I'll rip out your shriveled heart! Hubert: Champion, talk some sense into your countrymen before they get themselves killed. I would rather not have to train new workers.

(Ending 1: Hawke takes the bone mine from Hubert.)

(Ending A) Blue Hawke: [I'm taking over as mine boss.] Coin can be earned again, but the lives lost can never be restored. Blue Hawke: Since they have sacrificed the most, the workers will own and run the mine, under my supervision. Hubert: What? After all I have invested— Blue Hawke: Hubert, you'll be a silent partner until your share's bought out. Hubert: Shit! Fine! I am sick of this pit anyway. I should have sold it years ago! Earl: Imagine that! We'll be owners! Earl: Be a lot of work to get this mine running again. First, we gotta get the injured back on their feet. (Ending B) Purple Hawke: [I'm taking over as mine boss.] As the person with the most impressive title, I'll make the decisions here, thank you. Purple Hawke: I'm taking over the Bone Pit, effective now! Red Hawke: [I'm taking over as mine boss.] You will give the mine over to me. Unless you'd rather pay with your life. Hawke: You men will have a safe environment and steady pay from now on. Hubert: Shit! Fine! I am sick of this pit anyway. I should have sold it years ago! Earl: No more taking orders from that Orlesian bastard! We'll be working for one of our own, now. Earl: Be a lot of work to get this mine running again. First, we gotta get the injured back on their feet.

(Ending 2: Hubert is killed)

Hawke: [The workers are right.] What you've done is indefensible. Stand down or face me. Robart: Sorry, Hubert. You can't pay me enough to cross swords with the Champion of Kirkwall and slayer of dragons. Hubert: No wait! I will double your pay... triple! Hubert: No! We can make a deal! How would you all like to be my partners? Hubert: (Screams.) Earl: I guess the Bone Pit's yours now. What are your plans? (Ending A) Hawke: [How'd you like to be partners?] The miners know how to run this place. I'll make you all co-owners. Earl: Imagine that! We'll be owners! Earl: Be a lot of work to get this mine running again. First, we gotta get the injured back on their feet. (Ending B) Hawke: [I'll be your new boss.] If you'll continue working the mines, I promise to treat you better than Hubert did. Earl: No more taking orders from that Orlesian bastard! We'll be working for one of our own, now. Earl: Be a lot of work to get this mine running again. First, we gotta get the injured back on their feet. (Ending C) Hawke: [I'm through with this place.] You and your fellows can have this blighted pit. I never want to come back here again. Earl: Aye, this place is cursed. Let's just walk away and never look back.

(Ending 3: the miners are killed)

Hawke: [It's your mess. Deal with it.] Hubert, I'll leave you to your problem. Hubert: What a bloody mess. Hubert: Thank you for dealing with the dragons. As promised, you are the majority owner of the Bone Pit now. Hubert: I will go draw up the paperwork. Men, leave the corpses to the crows.

assorted comments

Remarks from your party members during the quest:

Fenris: Most dragons kill for food or territory. These bodies were not devoured, so they must see this place as their own. Anders: They never stood a chance. Aveline: This was pure slaughter. Merrill: So many dead... Varric: I wonder if anyone could have prevented this. 

Anders: So many injured... We'll never be able to get them all out in time. Aveline: So few survivors... and we'll lose more if we try to move them. Fenris: This cave stinks of death. These people won't leave here alive. Varric: Even were we all healers, it would be impossible to help everyone. Merrill: So many injured and dying... 

Anders: Dragons. You never get used to the sight of them... Aveline: Dragons! The legends of this place must be true. They've returned to take what's theirs. Varric: Seems the dragons want their pit back. Merrill: After all these years, dragons have returned to the Bone Pit. Fenris: Dragons. Further proof this place is cursed. Isabela: I always thought dragons were supposed to be rare.

And comments from Hubert after the quest:

Hubert: I, eh, convinced the city guard to... overlook what happened at the Bone Pit. Hubert: I hired someone to post fliers in the refugee camps, so we shall have new workers before long. Hubert: The papers are in order. You will run the Bone Pit in my stead. Hubert: The papers are in order. The miners will run the Bone Pit themselves. Hubert: I never should have gotten involved with that cursed mine.

[aworldofyou]

🔥🔥 Give me your very best. ;) @iniziare​ / SENT FOR UNPOPULAR OPINION / never denying the salt

        SO JUST AS I DIVE BACK INTO DRAGON AGE, I NEED TO STATE THAT THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING 100% CANON COMPLIANT. (which I am). Everyone always goes on and one about how it’s a TREND to be anti-canon. And sometimes you know what that can be valid, because fuck S.Meyer and things like it. But that doesn’t have to apply to everything that breathes in peoples vicinity. There is no shame in wanting to remain as canon as possible, and this applies to Dragon Age in particular and especially for me. Because I need to say these things because I’ve been sitting on these statements for quite some time and now I’m just exhausted.

 This is nothing to do with other people’s approach to canon. Nor does this mean that I will not write with other interpretations of it. In truth what I have beef with is people’s aggressive approach that if you don’t follow their interpretation somehow it makes you a shitty person when no, it’s literally written by the canon writers. And don’t tell me that ‘oh the book writers’ or ‘oH the game writers!’ no. THEY ARE LITERALLY THE SAME WRITERS THAT WRITE BOTH. 

Which means that things are as follows:

The Dalish Elves are Celtic inspired, so technically the are Irish, Welsh, Scottish, from the Isle of Man and Brittany. There is plenty of lost religion and genocide in the history of Ireland and Scotland alone that I don’t need to go into it here. [ source of the creation of the DAO, manuscripts written from the podcast where the creators went over what inspired what ]

This applies to City Elves, there are such a thing as the treatment of the inhabitants when they went into the other nations, with ghettos and work houses all applying here.

The above makes Alistair Theirin technically half irish, and considering Ferelden is based off of Old Europe we can say that Alistair is technically half Irish and half English, and royal at that. 

This means Grand Enchanter Fiona is not a POC.

Cassandra Pentaghast is straight.

Bethany Hawke is not the evil of the Hawke family and why things are gone so wrong for the Hawkes.

Leandra Hawke is not a bad mother, so is the best fictional mother I’ve seen, and Hawke loves her mother.

Changing races of canonical characters takes away the representation that the already established POC characters have. And if this was the other way around it would be a thousand times more problematic then it already is. Because we can consider race changing as erasing representation already in place, and stealing away the genocide that the Irish and Scottish went through. Which i don’t agree with erasure already. So, yeah.

[fairfaxleasee]

"Since when do you have a vendetta against vases?" + any DA2 cast

For @dadrunkwriting

Despite the best efforts of my cat who didn't think I needed to actually finish this.

Pairings: Alistair/Amelia, Fenris/Cass Hawke

Rated: T (horror references)

(The DA2 cast is involved so it counts, right?)

"Since when do you have a vendetta against vases, my friend?" Zevran Arainai turned the current fundamental threat to Ferelden's existence in his hands as though it were actually a vase.

"That's not a vase!" Alistair wasn't allowed to carry his shield in the palace (something about it being 'unkingly') so he was hiding behind the sturdiest-looking piece of furniture in the room. "Now can you assassinate it or not?"

"I am not sure what to tell you, but I am fairly certain this is a vase. However, if you are so insistent on paying my rather exorbitant fees, I could be persuaded to assassinate it for you." Zevran tossed the thing up in the air and caught it a few times.

"Be careful! Just because there may not be poison on it doesn't mean there's not poison in it!"

"Come, Alistair. I believe the stresses of your life are starting to get to you. What could you possibly have to fear from a vase."

"For the last time it's not a vase! I don't know what it is but nothing that woman's involved in is what it seems to be!"

"Ah, so a woman is involved, is she? Does your piccola gazzia know?"

"Amelia? Of course Amelia knows. She doesn't believe me about it not being a vase either but she didn't meet Cassia Hawke!"

The smug grin finally slid off Zevran's face and he set the not-vase thing down. "Cassia Hawke? The Ice Queen of Kirkwall? The most wanted woman in Thedas and infamous poisoner - and I am saying this as an Antivan."

"Yes! That Cassia Hawke!"

"And the vase..."

"Her 'gift.'"

"Did I say my fee would be 'exorbitant'? I am afraid I must revise it to 'ludicrous.' The Ice Queen is hardly a standard hazard, after all..."

"...You know, Zevran, I can't help but feel you're exploiting me."

"I am not the one with a gift from the Ice Queen in my house I would rather have gone. Now, before we discuss just how ludicrous my fee will be, tell me: on a scale of 'she wanted to stab you with a blunt object' to 'she wanted to lower you feet-first into a vat of acid' how angry was she with you when she gave you this?"

"Uhh..." Alistair tried to remember. He was fairly sure they had moved beyond 'stabbing' but he wasn't sure just how close to acid he'd gotten.

"Very well, did she give this to you before or after you told her to smile?"

"I did not tell her to smile!"

"So perhaps only a slightly ludicrous fee then."

"...I may have sort of implied she should be nice."

"Incredibly ludicrous it is."

"I... FINE! Now will you get rid of it."

Zevran sighed dramatically and gripped the thing by the lip. He pulled some sort of black bag out of his armor (Alistair didn't want to think about what the bag was intended to be used for) and placed it inside. Then he tied it shut and walked over to the door out of the room.

He motioned for Alistair to come over to the door. Alistair shook his head. He may be an idiot, but he wasn't that big an idiot.

"All you have to do is close the door! It will be quicker if you do it than I."

With how nervous he sounded, Alistair doubted it was really as simple as the assassin was making it out to be, but he did want the door shut as quickly as possible. He reluctantly got out from behind the chair and crept over to the door.

"On my signal!" Zevran started spinning the bag, then on the signal tossed it into the hallway as Alistair slammed the door.

They heard a muffled crash, then nothing.

"So... what now?" Alistair wasn't quite sure what to expect. He'd never watched an assassination before (well, unless you counted the time Zevran had failed to assassinate him).

Zevran had an ear to the door. "Well, I do not hear anything, and I do not smell anything, so now I think you pay me for solving your vase problem."

"Oh no!" Alistair wasn't getting fooled. "I've already smashed the thing to pieces. It keeps coming back! I'm not paying you until I'm sure it's gone!"

"...you did not think this was perhaps information that would have been useful before now?"

"You're the assassin! Why didn't you ask before now?"

"...very well. We shall just go and bury it then."

"Done that before too..." Alistair muttered mostly to himself as he and Zevran left the room to collect the bag.

He could hear the shattered pieces in the bag clank as they took it outside to the royal garden to bury it.

"There, my friend? Are you satisfied?"

"Not yet! We're going to check and make sure it's not back."

"How can it be back when it is dead and buried?"

"I don't know, if I knew that I'd have been able to kill it myself!"

"...you are lucky I am not charging you extra for this." Zevran shook his head but did follow Alistair back inside.

Where the vase-looking thing was sitting where it had been before Zevran had smashed it looking just like new.

"See?" Alistair threw his arms out just to make sure Zevran would.

"I... do not understand. I put it in the bag, we smashed it in the bag, we buried the pieces. How is it back?"

"I don't know, but I'm not paying you until it's not back anymore! I thought I left the blighted thing in Kirkwall in pieces, but that didn't stop it following me back here!"

"Have you considered it may be easier to beg the Ice Queen's forgiveness and throw yourself at her mercy? I believe at the very least she would kill you faster."

"I... look, how am I supposed to do that when no one knows where she is? Also I don't want to be killed faster, I want to not be killed at all, and if you want to be paid, you'd better get rid of that vase."

"I... very well. As an independent assassin competing with far more famous guilds, I suppose I must protect my reputation for dependability." Zevran grabbed the thing and stuck it into another black bag. "Let us see if drowning will fare any better than breaking."

They checked the bag just to make sure the thing hadn't escaped somehow before they threw it into Denerim harbor.

"There? Now may I please get paid?"

"No! I told you not until I'm sure it's gone."

"Again, you are lucky I am not charging you for two assassinations..."

"If you'd done it right the first time, we wouldn't have needed this second time!"

They kept bickering about who was getting the better end of the deal back to the palace. When they arrived, they ran into Amelia carrying the same vase they'd broken and just dumped in the harbor.

"Amelia! Don't touch that! It's dangerous!" Alistair snatched the thing away from his very surprised wife.

"...Alistair, it's a vase. They're not exactly known hazards."

"It's not a vase, you know where it's from and it won't die!"

"It won't..." Amelia started looking surprised and started glaring at Alistair in a way that reminded him of her father. "Alistair Theirin! Have you been breaking these on purpose? You're just lucky that I counted wrong when my father brought these extras with him after you visited Kirkwall and there are still some left to replace them. It's odd, I could have sworn that last one you just broke was the last one, but when I went back downstairs to look after you broke it I found more."

Alistair leaned away from his wife and back to Zevran. "...they're reproducing now!"

"Yes, and I have decided that in that case they are entirely your problem."

"I... you don't want to get paid?" Alistair looked at the assassin in disbelief.

"Not if it means having to investigate how the Ice Queen has managed to make vases suddenly appear in your palace when she is annoyed at you. No, my friend, you are entirely on your own in this."

"I... but..."

"Perhaps next time you will not tell the woman to smile?"

"I didn't tell her to smile, I told her to be nice!"

"Eh, either way."

Alistair wasn't prepared to let Zevran off the hook quite that easily, "What about not breaking a contract?"

"The Crows do not break a contract. I, however, am not a Crow. I am a man who enjoys the pleasures of living. And speaking of those, I am going to find Avalonne before she becomes as mad at me as your wife currently is with you."

"I'm not mad at him, Zevran!" Amelia looked mad enough to Alistair, "I'm annoyed he's been breaking these things on purpose!"

Zevran had already started wandering off down the hallway. Alistair was obviously not getting rid of whatever the thing was that way, but maybe if he could explain to Amelia just how dangerous Cassia Hawke was, he'd get her to figure out a way to be rid of the souvenir. "Now, Love, I can explain."

Judging by his wife's reaction, he'd overused that line.

-------------------------------------------

"You know, Cass," Fenris shook his head slightly. "This was not what I had in mind when I suggested you needed a hobby.

Cass reached up for his hands to help her out of the cistern she'd used to get into Denerim without being seen. She grinned at her husband, "What? Pottery's not a hobby?"

He shook his head again but she could see him smiling, "Pottery is a hobby. Using the pottery you've made to torture someone who annoyed you isn't."

"I mean, it sounds kinda 'hobbyish' to me. How are you defining 'hobby' that it doesn't meet the definition?"

"Well, 'semantics games' are a safer hobby, but I'm serious Cass - sneaking into Denerim just for that was... it was..." He looked away from her.

She knew it was a stupid risk, but if she had been seen, letting the Ferelden authorities chase their tails to find her in an assassination plot against their King in Denerim should mean no one would be looking for her to slip through the Frostbacks into Orlais.

"I didn't go just for that." She untied the coin purse from her belt and threw it to him.

"...Cass did you steal this from the palace?"

"I don't steal Fenris. I sold my daggers. Wade didn't care who I was or where I came from, he just wanted to study Sandal's runes. He literally opened his safe for me and told me to take whatever I wanted as long as I promised to leave him the daggers."

"Cass!"

"We need the money, Fenris."

"You need to have some protection!"

"I sold my daggers Fenris. I still have the knives, poisons, and acids." She walked over and clasped the front of his armor. "And I have you."

He brushed some hair away from her face. "Always, Cassia."

[morganaseren]

Warden Niamh/Warden Bethany AU

So because there seemed to be interest in the idea, I decided to expand on the second prompt on this list of AUs I made for Bethany and my Niamh Cousland.

Since Bethany is a Circle Mage in Niamh’s canon verse, I really wanted to experiment with Bethany in one of her other potential routes We don’t talk about the ones where she died not long after escaping Lothering or down in the Deep Roads. Like, what are you talking about? Lalala~ and see if I could work together a happier ending than what the games canonically gave her.

Like most of the AUs I’ve already written about though, this is just a snippet into the verse, so it’s not as polished as I’d like it to be, and the pacing isn’t on par with my main fic. However, there are still 50+ pages for your reading pleasure! Depending on reader interest, I’ll be more than happy to write more about this or other AUs once OtSttCA is completed.

Disclaimer: Any section written in present tense beneath the Read More contains notes or scenes that I’ve yet to expand upon properly.

CliffNotes version of what goes on:

This whole thing takes place sometime after Bethany becomes a Grey Warden and continues on through the years-long breaks between the Acts of DA2. The epilogue will be set sometime after the Trespasser DLC is completed.

Niamh is the Grey Warden who Morrigan chooses to do the Dark Ritual with, and through the obvious use of magic, Kieran is conceived. Because of this, Niamh’s sister Saoirse escapes her otherwise canonical death and gets to be happily married to Leliana.

Because of their mutual respect for one another, and the fact that Niamh went through the trouble of finding Morrigan through the events of the Witch Hunt DLC (she was worried about her friend and their son), she and Morrigan remain in close contact and co-parent Kieran together. Their relationship is often mistaken as a romantic one though.

Bethany eventually falls in love with Niamh over the years, but because she believes the other woman is in a relationship with Morrigan, she keeps her feelings to herself. As such, this is obviously going to be a slow burn romance much like OtSttCA.

Bethany only confesses (albeit by accident) when Niamh nearly dies during a darkspawn ambush when the two woman accidentally find themselves trapped down in the Deep Roads.

There’s a romantic kiss out in the rain along with a semi-NSFW scene later on, which explains why the Read More is in place beyond the fact that this is already super long despite the fact that it’s unfinished...

They both go off in search of the cure to The Calling not long after the Kirkwall Rebellion, and they both eventually get married sometime after the Trespasser DLC with Divine Victoria (spoilers: it’s Leliana) officiating their wedding.

Interested so far? Click below to read more!

“You’re originally from Ferelden, no?” Stroud asked, drawing Bethany’s attention from where she’d been listlessly staring at the cobblestones as they walked away from Amaranthine’s sea port.

The city itself seemed to be thriving with fishmongers and traders of all kinds rattling off their wares to passersby. Save for the workers carrying about lumber and other building materials, one might not have even believed that Amaranthine had suffered its fair share of woes during the onset of the Fifth Blight or the consequent, mysterious darkspawn attack upon its walls nearly a year later. Still, the denizens of the arling were ever a hearty people. For whatever hardship befell them, they continued to persevere. 

She supposed she couldn’t bring herself to be too surprised by that.

The Storm Coast had spawned some of Thedas’ most fearsome raiders once upon a time, and they had proven the bane of Orlais in the rebellion that had spanned over half an Age. For the empire’s trespass upon their freedom, they had fought back with a ruthlessness that matched the raging waves of the sea that was as much a home to them as the land. In the face of such an unsympathetic enemy, they depended on one another to see themselves and each other through to another day. Such faith eventually earned them the liberation they had long sought against Orlais.

Bethany could still see evidence of such camaraderie in the way the people greeted one another so whole-heartedly, stopping to make conversation or help with the transportation of wares. It was such interaction that she’d miss in all the time she’d been away.

Kirkwall had lacked such sincere enthusiasm.

Still, in the two years since she’d left it, she was finally back home, but Bethany knew it was yet another decision she hadn’t had a say in. She hadn’t agreed to returning to Ferelden any more than she had agreed to becoming a Grey Warden. Her jaw clenched, remembering how her sister had simply handed her over to them even when faced with the proposition that they’d likely never see one another again.

Was it really so easy for you to leave me behind, Sister? she thought bitterly, and perhaps upon sensing her melancholy, Stroud changed the subject.

“I realize it seems a rather abrupt choice in returning you here, but what I seek is far too dangerous for someone so new to our way of life to accompany me with,” he explained. “I’m meeting with the Warden-Commander of the Fereldan branch so that I might share some information in the event that things go awry. Their group is smaller than the ones seen across Thedas, but no one can deny their efficiency.” Stroud spared a small chuckle at that. “A bit like your sister and her crew, I suppose; I thought perhaps you would be more comfortable in such a setting.”

It had been a thoughtful suggestion; Bethany knew that. Still, she couldn’t help but sigh. She had always felt that the individuals whom had made up her little social circle were more Emrys’ friends than they had ever been hers. Her older sister had the type of presence to draw anyone to her with her rakish charm and absolute battle prowess.

…which was the exact opposite of her.

As an apostate, it was far easier to stay out of trouble by being unobtrusive. If she gave the Templars no reason to suspect her, she wouldn’t be taken away from her family and the quiet life she had always known. Yet, for all her trouble—and for all her desperation to abide by the rules of a society that had long hated mages like her—she had found herself alone anyway.

Bethany sighed as she looked down at the blues and silvers of the brigandine and tabard of her outfit that signified her status as a Grey Warden. Even with her staff openly displayed across her back, she supposed she no longer had to fear being turned into the authorities. Save for a few curious glances, no one so much as batted an eye at them.

She wasn’t entirely convinced this new life was better than the one she’d left. She could have dealt with the ever-present uncertainty in Kirkwall and the endless, interpersonal squabbles of their ragtag group than spending the remainder of her years surrounded by strangers and fighting darkspawn.

But the choice wasn’t hers to make.

Very little ever was.

---

“So that’s Velanna. She took over as Archivist for our branch when the Warden-Constable was promoted to her current position by our Commander,” Nathaniel said as he took Bethany and Stroud through a tour of Vigil’s Keep since the fortress’ respective Warden-Commander and Warden-Constable were currently out on business.

Their latest stop was a library filled with seemingly endless rows of bookshelves and even more that lined the walls of the chamber that consisted of three separate levels. It was impressive, and Bethany was half-convinced she could have spent an Age in this room alone and never be able to read the entirety of its collection.

At Nathaniel’s commentary, she spared a cursory glance at the woman writing intently at one of the tables furthest away from them, paying little mind to her audience. As was typical of most elves, Velanna was a slight woman. Her hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was nearly white, but there was a surliness in her pensive expression that gave Bethany pause. It was something that suggested the other woman didn’t welcome the company of others easily, and she seemed to have been proven right by Nathaniel’s words.

“Don’t mind her if she’s a bit standoffish at first. Velanna’s usually that way with everyone until she starts warming up to them,” he assured.

“Oh?”

“Yes. She didn’t really like humans all that much to begin with—hardly a surprise considering how terrible some of them were toward her former clan. Truthfully, I think the only people she really respects are our commanding officers—the Constable mostly though.” He spared a soft chuckle at that. “Granted, the Warden-Commander could lead a damn army from one side of Thedas to the other, but only her sister has the type of negotiation skills that could somehow end up with a High Dragon allied with a sheep of all things.”

“Probably a good thing,” said Varel—the Keep’s seneschal. There was amusement in his dark eyes as he stroked his beard, which had long grown grey with age. “Actually succeeding in getting the Warden-Constable angry is a terrifying sight to behold.”

“Please don’t remind me; I still have nightmares from our first meeting…” Nathaniel muttered with a shudder.

Bethany found that curious, but before she could begin to question him, she saw how he blinked at further movement inside the library. She followed his gaze to see that a dark-haired, dwarven woman had entered through one of the side entrances, carrying two, steaming mugs. One had been set before Velanna, who whispered something quietly, but both of Bethany’s brows rose when she saw how the elf’s cheeks quickly reddened by the kiss that had been pressed to them by her latest visitor.

“Ah. And that’s Sigrun there—another one of those few, honored individuals who Velanna won’t immediately snap at,” Nathaniel remarked humorously.

The tour then continued elsewhere with the party entering the Mess Hall. While neat and tidy, it would have otherwise been unremarkable were it not for the lone dwarf snoring loudly atop one of the tables—an empty cask by his side. Bethany and Stroud shared bemused glances while Varel only cursed next to them, running a weary hand down his face.

“I told you we needed better locks for the cellar if we’re to keep Oghren away from the wine stores,” Nathaniel deadpanned.

Oghren grumbled nonsensically in his sleep before promptly rolling off the table and right onto the floor, loudly overturning more than a few chairs in the process. Despite the fall, he continued to doze away, and his snoring only seemed to grow in volume. They then watched as the poor seneschal wearily hauled the dwarf back to his quarters before he could cause another incident in front of their guests.

“…well, that was Oghren,” Nathaniel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary sigh. “Quite the interesting fellow, that one. With him, you’ve pretty much met every Warden in the Keep save for—”

He was interrupted by the sound of voices coming down the hallway.

“I told you that I’m more than capable of walking on my own!” protested a feminine voice, irritation evident within it.

“Says the woman who was nearly side-swiped off a cliff by an ogre,” came the deeper timbre of another woman’s amused reply.

Unlike Nathaniel or herself, the latest arrivals didn’t seem to bear the typical, Fereldan accent or even Stroud’s Orlesian one from what she could tell. Bethany could hear how some of the vowels lilted somewhat as they spoke.

“It didn’t really give me any choice in the matter,” was the dry response. “It was either stand before its charge or risk the family in the wagon being swept over the edge instead.”

“I was hardly questioning your bravery, Sister. The people in that caravan certainly wouldn’t, but perhaps leave the more death-defying stunts to those of us with the armor to handle it, hm? I shudder to think what our brother or Aunt Eithne (writer’s note: pronounced Eth-Nah) would say once they find out about this...”

“Perhaps that you were lazing about while I was doing all the work as per usual.”

“Hey!”

Two women appeared in the doorway of the Mess Hall then, and Bethany was startled to find that one of them rivaled her older sister in both height and size. She was a warrior through and through if the impressive greatsword over her shoulder and her overall physique was any indication. Her mane of hair was the color of pale wheat, the length of which was held in a braid that trailed down half her back, and her eyes were a deep, stormy grey. The woman she was carrying—her sister, according to their conversation—was much slighter in comparison.

Rather than sharing in the warrior’s blonde-haired looks, hers was a stark, raven-black. The loose curls trailed to roughly chin-length with a longer fringe that covered one of her eyes—the color a whisper of smoke than the darker grey her sister had. The woman’s arms were also crossed over her chest as she regarded her sister—deeply-unimpressed—before her features cleared at the sight of their visitors.

“Ah. Stroud. Glad to see you and your companion made it across the Waking Sea safely. We weren’t expecting you both for at least another day, or we’d have sent an escort to meet you at the port.”

“No need for the trouble. The winds were kind during our voyage, Warden-Constable,” he said before tilting his head in concern. “Although it appears we’ve arrived too late to help you both. Has the darkspawn presence been more troubling as of late?”

The warrior whom Bethany deduced to be the Warden-Commander merely snorted. “They’re not as plentiful as they were a year ago thankfully. With Niamh’s and Velanna’s respective magic, our branch here has slowly been sealing any access tunnels we’ve come across, but our enemy may just be as awful as vermin with how they manage to reappear in other areas.”

“The incidents have been isolated so far as we can tell, but they’re capable of disrupting travel all the same. On that note…” The Constable trailed off as she turned her gaze toward the Warden who had been showing them about the Keep. “Nathaniel, we have guests from the caravan mentioned earlier. As it’s getting rather late, Saoirse and I decided it was best not to press our luck by letting them travel so soon after the darkspawn attack. Could you and Varel direct them to the guest quarters? We’ll arrange an escort for them to Amaranthine first thing in the morning.”

He pressed a fist over his heart respectfully as he bowed his head. “Of course.”

“Wonderful. Now—”

“Now we get you back to your quarters so that we can tend to your injuries,” her sister interrupted, cheerily grinning when it led to the other woman scowling outright, as if she had been reminded of her current position.

“And I’m more than capable of walking there on my own. Put me down!”

“And risk you further injuring yourself? What type of sister would I be if I were to allow that to happen? Now then!” The Commander directed a smile Bethany’s way, and she jerked in place at the sudden attention. “You’re the latest to join our Order, aren’t you? Stroud mentioned you were a mage. I don’t suppose you know any healing magic, do you?”

“Oh.” Bethany blinked. “Um, well, yes. I have some experience with it.” She had tended to her sister’s and their friends’ injuries often enough back in Kirkwall.

“Excellent. Would you mind tending to Niamh here as best as you can while I go find Velanna? I’m pretty sure my sister fractured a few ribs in that fight earlier.” She chuckled. “And don’t worry if she gives you any trouble; she has a history of being a terrible patient,” she added, earning a pained grunt for her troubles when the woman in question elbowed her sharply in the chest.

---

And before Bethany knew it, she found herself alone with the Warden-Constable in her quarters.

She was trying not to blush at the sight of the woman reclined against the propped pillows at the headboard of the bed. Modesty didn’t seem to be an issue for the other mage. Without another word, she had undressed—with a few occasional winces here and there as the movement pulled at her injuries—and was now bare from the waist up, save for the bindings around her breasts.

Bethany couldn’t help her own wince when she saw the livid bruising that covered the right side of the woman’s torso. It almost looked like the trunk of a tree had been slammed against it if the abrasions and bits of bark embedded into the cuts were any indication.

And she kept insisting to try and walk on her own with an injury like this? she thought in absolute disbelief before delicately pressing the tips of her fingers against the bruise. Despite being as gentle as possible, it still drew a sharp hiss from the Warden-Constable, and Bethany jerked her head up to see the other woman’s clearly pained visage.

“Sorry!”

“No, it needs to be done. Keep going,” she insisted even as pale eyes closed themselves to focus on breathing in and out evenly—albeit with some difficulty.

With permission given, Bethany laid her hand out over the woman’s side, drawing her magic out with a silvery-blue light. From there, she began sounding out the extent of the Warden-Constable’s injuries by feeling where it burned hottest beneath her palm—an indication of how bad the damage was. There was always a tickling sensation that spread out to her fingertips whenever she gently coaxed broken bones back into place. It was akin to puzzle pieces slowly sliding back together before she could encourage them to heal, and she waited for the pulsing waves around them to fade into a dull echo before focusing on the next fractured bone.

As for the bruised muscles surrounding them, they were far easier to deal with. Bethany poured magic beneath the skin in gradual increments—droplets of rain spilling into a cup one by one—until she felt the burning heat simmer down to a more bearable ache. She continued the process, slowly sliding her hand along the woman’s side until the patchwork of blues and blacks which had covered its expanse faded into a yellowish tinge and the superficial cuts had closed themselves. Bethany pulled away then with a satisfied smile.

“What song was that?”

Bethany blinked, turning her gaze up to see silvery eyes staring at her curiously. “Hm?”

“You were humming something while you were healing me.”

“Oh.” She felt heat gathering along her cheeks at the revelation. “It’s an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me. When my father first taught me healing magic, I used to hold my breath while I was performing the spell, but as you can imagine, it’s not a very sound idea unless you want both an unconscious healer and patient.” Embarrassed laughter spilled out of her then as she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “After a time, I learned that humming a few songs was useful in reminding me to breathe.”

“I see.” The Warden-Constable smiled, looking a great deal more relaxed as she reclined further against the headboard. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course.”

The Warden-Commander walked in then with Velanna in tow, and the warrior seemed surprised to see her sister still in bed. “Did you actually manage to get her to stay there the entire time?” she asked incredulously.

Bethany blinked in confusion at that since her patient had otherwise been well-behaved. As it was, she could only nod tentatively, causing the other woman to grin openly.

“Hah! Well done! I didn’t expect Stroud to send me someone who could cow her into submission.”

The Warden-Constable’s eyes narrowed then. “It was not my hearing that was damaged in that fight, Saoirse. You would do well to not make such comments before me,” she deadpanned, and despite the threat, it only drew hearty laughter from her sister, who soon drew her attention back to Bethany.

“Stroud said your name was Hawke, right?”

She shifted uncomfortably, having grown too used to her surname being used to refer to Emrys, but she nodded all the same. “I’d prefer just to be called Bethany if that’s alright.”

“Ah. Understandable. Can’t tell you how many times my sister and I both answered ‘yes’ in the same room whenever someone called out for a Warden Cousland.” She smiled. “In any case, welcome to the Fereldan branch of the Grey Wardens, Bethany. We’re glad to have you with us.”

---

After that, Bethany settles into Vigil’s Keep.

She sends letters home every now and then, but they’re usually only addressed to her mother. They’re never really long—just enough to let her know that she’s alive and well. Although Bethany realizes it’s a petty thing, she doesn’t ask about Emrys or send her anything for that matter. She’s still angry and resentful that her older sister managed to escape their adventure down into the Deep Roads unscathed while she got cheated out a future, leaving her to a life of killing darkspawn until the Calling finally takes her into the abyss of death. 

Melancholy is ever her constant companion, but eventually, she gets paired with Niamh for missions, who teaches her much about their duties as Wardens over the months, which takes them all around Ferelden. They deal with darkspawn sightings and document areas where they’ve sealed off underground routes into the Deep Roads with earth-based magic, hopefully preventing them from returning so regularly to bother nearby provinces.

As partners, they slowly become closer.

---

"Do you regret it?" Bethany asked one night as they sat by the campfire, watching as Niamh effortlessly flicked a hand to control the size of it just as a strong wind passed beneath the rocky overhang they'd taken shelter under. "Being a Grey Warden, I mean?"

Niamh paused, giving the matter some thought. "There are worse things to be, I suppose." She shrugged. "For a time, I hated the idea of being a mage because it took me away from my family. However, my being a Grey Warden was likely the only thing that saved me from being slaughtered with the rest of them when Howe plotted his coup. It likely also saved me from dying at the hands of my colleagues in Kinloch Hold when one of the Senior Enchanters overthrew it with blood magic and his followers.” She looked over at Bethany then. "Truthfully, I enjoy being able to see more of the world than through the cage the Chantry kept me in. I like the experience of being a part of it even in the moments that people dislike most."

Niamh held a hand out past the edge of the overhang, casually catching droplets of rain in her palm. Bethany watched as a slow smile spread across her features at the sound of another crash of thunder, and she couldn’t help how her own heart seemed to quicken upon seeing that serene expression.

"Our lives are more finite than they ever were," Bethany said distractedly, knowing all Wardens had only a few decades at most after their Joining.

"They are," she conceded. "That’s why I intend to make the most of it." Niamh's expression then turned sheepish as she turned back toward her. "I’m sorry. That probably wasn’t the answer you were looking for, was it?"

"No," she admitted, but as mellow as the other woman was, she was hardly surprised. Niamh had a way of remaining positive despite everything else life seemed to throw at them. Bethany smiled in spite of herself. "It was an honest one though. Thank you."

---

Every day is always an interesting adventure.

If not darkspawn, they deal with brigands out on the road or aid people across the countryside. To Bethany’s surprise, their help is openly requested sometimes when they reach a new town or village. Following the Blight, the utter bravery of the Grey Wardens had earned them Ferelden’s deepest respect. Thus, despite the fact they’re two mages traveling about, their regalia draws easy admiration and conversation alike.

It’s admittedly an odd feeling to have as a mage: to be wanted.

Bethany slowly grows to enjoy it though, especially when she can help with her magic so openly without being reviled for it.

Sometimes the jobs asked of them are simple enough: deal with a band of thieves, rid the area of rabid animals encroaching too close to farmland, helping out with some odds and ends around the village, etc.

Given that Niamh is a veteran of the Fifth Blight, Bethany also ends up learning a lot of survival skills from her during their travels together. She’s endlessly amazed by how the other mage utilizes her magic in combat and with other tasks such as hunting or fishing.

Bethany’s understandably shocked when she realizes that Niamh knows how to shapeshift, often scouting the skies as a raven to search for any nearby danger or roaming the wilderness as a sleek-looking, black wolf to hunt for game. It’s an unexpected revelation, especially since the other woman admitted to having been a part of the Circle most of her life before being recruited as a Warden.

She’s never met another mage so intriguing.

While Anders had been a benevolent healer, offering his skills to those most in need, it was his restless anger—an almost blind righteousness—over the plight of mages that gave Bethany pause.

Merrill was sweet in comparison, of course, and Bethany never minded talking with her even if there were the occasional cultural gaps that led to amusing misunderstandings at times. Still, the other woman held an interest in blood magic that Bethany wasn’t entirely certain she was comfortable with. After all, she had grown up hearing about the dangers of such magic from the Chantry. Then again, Andrastian religion also denounced who she was as a person as well, which was depressing in its own right…

While Niamh’s aptitude for elemental magic alone is impressive, Bethany is certain the woman’s shapeshifting draws upon some form of ancient or arcane magic—something well outside of the Circle’s teachings. It draws her curiosity endlessly. As such, Bethany asks her about the skill one day. Niamh just smiles, idly toying with the wooden ring that sits on a cord of black leather around her neck, revealing that a former companion taught it to her.

And that’s how Bethany learns about Morrigan.

---

“What?” Bethany exclaimed when Saoirse revealed how she was able to survive the slaying of the Archdemon. “You’re telling me that she and Niamh were able to…” She trailed off, trying to fight the blush burning across her face as her mind began imagining the possibilities of how such a conception was possible.

“You know, I thought to ask Niamh the technicalities of it once, but given she’s my baby sister—and obviously lacks the essential, uh, tool for the matter—I just decided it was best not to pry,” Saoirse answered dryly. She idly waved her hand about. “I don’t care to learn about her intimate life any more than she cares to know about mine,” she added before the corner of her mouth lifted into a lazy grin. “But for all intents and purposes, Kieran is my nephew, and Morrigan’s very much family now despite her protests to the contrary.”

“And he has the soul of an Old God?” she asked quietly as she turned to look at Kieran and the two women who were his parents.

Oghren had heard of their latest visitors and was—

Bethany squinted in confusion.

He was doing some type of weird jig in front of the baby, who was currently in Morrigan’s arms. Unfortunately, the erratic, uncoordinated nature of it did nothing to amuse him or his mother. Seemingly uncomfortable by the sight, Kieran gave an unhappy whine before reaching out toward Niamh, little fingers grasping repeatedly in her direction. Morrigan transferred him easily into the other woman’s arms when it was clear she wouldn’t mind holding him, allowing her to dryly berate the dwarf while Niamh comforted their son.

“So Morrigan says, yes,” the warrior answered with a shrug. “I originally turned down her ritual because I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting an innocent life to such a fate, but I can’t be mad at the result. I still have Leliana because of it, and I can see how much Niamh adores both Kieran and Morrigan.” Her smile softened. “She has a piece of the happiness that I always wanted for her—something Niamh felt she could never find in this world, terrible as it is for mages at times.”

Bethany couldn’t help but agree at the latter sentiment.

Looking at the three of them, they certainly did seem like a happy family. Still, Bethany couldn’t help but feel some small pang of envy. While she had discovered that Niamh could draw just about anyone into easy conversation with her, she was rather private about her personal life. It wasn’t until recently that Bethany discovered she was even in a relationship—let alone one involving another woman. She had no issue with the idea or with Morrigan for that matter. The other mage was well-matched with Niamh on the basis of intrigue alone, but…

Bethany bit her lip.

After all those long months together with Niamh, she couldn’t help but feel—

Bethany nearly swallowed her tongue when she realized sharp, golden eyes were staring at her over Niamh’s head—as if somehow reading her thoughts. Morrigan was tall for a woman of Fereldan origin, but not nearly as much as Saoirse. With her dark hair and pale skin, she was as bewitching as she was powerful—her magical aura a fount of seemingly endless, wild energy. Bethany almost felt like prey beneath the other woman’s gaze, and she averted her own nervously.

Thankfully, Morrigan made no comment about it, but Bethany did wince when she heard her suggest turning into bed early to Niamh. She and Kieran had arrived relatively late in the day after all, so they were no doubt tired from their travels. Niamh gave no objections, and they soon headed off to the woman’s personal quarters.

Bethany sighed soundlessly.

She was no stranger to infatuation. Her attraction to Leliana back in Lothering was a testament to that fact. Granted, it was also somehow deeply ironic that her commanding officer was now married to the same lay sister who had since gone on to become the Left Hand of Divine Justinia.

Sometimes she couldn’t help but think the Maker enjoyed toying with her in subtle, annoying ways. In any case, like with any other infatuation, she would just have to wait for the one she had on Niamh to run its course.

It couldn’t last forever after all.

---

Spoilers: it does.

---

During one of her occasional visits, Morrigan left Kieran temporarily in the care of Niamh to follow up on a magical lead involving some of her arcane research. As they weren’t needed outside of Vigil’s Keep for anything, Bethany also got to watch over him as well, and as she did, she brought up a question that she had long been curious over.

"You said you started the ritual with Morrigan when you were already a Warden, weren't you? I thought Wardens became barren after the Joining though?"

"Hm. That's the assumption, yes," Niamh said as she idly waved a stuffed griffon over Kieran, delighting the baby instantly as they laid on the floor together. "I’d been a Warden for a little over a year at that point. Perhaps it was still soon enough that infertility hadn’t affected me yet, or the spell did something to compensate for it."

Bethany just nodded as she looked over at the two of them. "I see bits of you in him."

"Do you?"

"Yes," she admitted easily enough. "There's his sweet nature, the way he seems far too clever for his own good at times, and how his eyes light up whenever he smiles or laughs."

Niamh chuckled, flattered over the assessment. "Morrigan and I are always arguing about it. I see more of her than me in him, but then she retorts that he’s retained my love of sweets and just about every known creature in existence." Her smile widened when tiny, grasping hands finally succeeded in pulling down the stuffed griffon in her hands, and Kieran wasted little time in snuggling the toy to his chest with a pleased hum.

"Do you regret not being able to see him whenever you wish?"

"Sometimes," Niamh answered, "but Morrigan’s mother…" She trailed off with a frown even as she ran a hand affectionately through her son’s hair. "She’s powerful, and she’s hurt her before. I can understand her caution. I’m willing to go years at a time without seeing them if it means they’re safe."

---

Morrigan eventually returns, and she takes Kieran with her to hide and do magical stuff as Empress Celene’s Arcane Advisor in Orlais as per canon.

Several months pass.

Although Niamh had professed to understanding the need for her little family’s relocation, the distance means that visits from them are now few and far in between. Bethany can see how much the other woman misses them and how she worries about their safety. She often catches Niamh distractedly playing with the ring on her necklace, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

As if anticipating that, Morrigan does send letters to Niamh every now and then, and Niamh’s entire expression lights up every time she receives them, learning how the other woman and Kieran are fairing in Orlais along with how their son continues to grow by leaps and bounds.

She cannot fault the happiness Niamh has found with Morrigan, but it also serves as a constant reminder of what life will never offer to Bethany.

Eventually, it gets to a point where Bethany grows resentful of their relationship because her own feelings for Niamh are just so strong by then. It causes her to lash out at Niamh one night in camp, angry with how calm and positive she always is despite knowing they all have a death sentence over their heads.

---

"What world do you live in that you see it through such an idyllic lens?! You can wax poetic about this life all you like! I never asked for this! I never asked for the darkspawn to steal what little I had from life only to be made the gatekeeper against the very things I despise most in this world!"

And Niamh was quiet for the longest time, having stopped mid-sentence over Bethany's sudden tirade. As the silence continued to drift over their camp, so too does a veil of sudden cold air, and Bethany realized far too late that she’d crossed a line with the other woman.

"No one does, really," Niamh admitted at last, the warmth gone from her voice. "Save for Saoirse and my brother, I lost most of my family, but the terrible thing was that it wasn’t even darkspawn that killed them or even the Blight. It was just one man’s petty greed for what he felt was owed to him. He pretended to be my family’s ally for decades, and under the cover of night, he used his men to slaughter nearly the entirety of my bloodline. My parents, my sister-in-law, my nephew… He was only eight when it happened, you see. Oren wanted to a warrior like my siblings. He was trying to defend his mother with one of those wooden swords young boys tend to play with, but against the likes of Howe’s men...”  She clenched her jaw. “They gutted him just like everyone else."

Another pause stifled the air between them even as Bethany stared at Niamh, horrified.

"Darkspawn are terrible, yes, but they’re not always as terrible as people," Niamh said, eyes narrowing as she looked into the fire. "We can be so far worse. If I'm at all patient, it's because I try to be kind in a world that offers so little of it. I want to believe it can be better than it was before. I want this to be a better place for our people, but I also want to ensure that tragedies like that never happen again. That the people caught in the middle—victims of simple circumstance—don’t have so suffer. If it means I must be a Grey Warden in addition to a mage, then I accept it. To do otherwise damns them as much as me."

With that, Niamh then gracefully rose to her feet and headed back to her own tent, leaving Bethany alone at the campfire.

The rest of their journey back to Vigil’s Keep passed without much conversation between them despite Bethany’s attempts. Niamh only said enough to give a suitable answer, but she never offered anything more beyond it. A vault door had seemed to close behind the cool grey of the eyes that had long enraptured her, offering little warmth. It was clear Bethany was no longer privy to the other woman’s innermost thoughts and feelings

Niamh wasn’t petty, however.

She still hunted when necessary so they didn’t starve, and as was long part of their agreement together, Bethany continued to cook whatever game she caught. Other than that, however, Niamh offered no friendly greetings in the morning when they woke or any words that allowed her to wander off peacefully into the Fade as she slept.

Bethany didn’t realize just how much she’d miss them.

---

When they finally return to Vigil's Keep, Saoirse is confused by how quiet and despondent her sister seems to be. Given how amiable Niamh normally is, she has a right to be concerned.

She pulls Bethany aside one night to ask what happened since they normally get along so well, but Bethany and Niamh haven't even spoken a word to one another since their return.

Bethany ruefully explains the situation, but she doesn't reveal the actual reason why she lashed out to begin with. As such, Saoirse just assumes it was just the usual stress of being a Grey Warden.

---

"Ah. It happens to the best of us, really. Here." Saoirse handed Bethany a tin box. Something Orlesian, according to the script on it. "Leliana’s currently away on business in Val Royeaux, but she sends care packages out to me whenever she can. This one's for Niamh though. It's tea," she explained with a laugh. "She loves this stuff more than anyone else I know."

Bethany still felt badly over the situation however.

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“Oh, Niamh’s too well-mannered to outright ignore someone,” Saoirse insisted with a brief snort. “If anything, she becomes more… Well. ‘Distantly-polite’ as my wife would describe it. Besides, I have it on good authority that she never turns down a good cup of tea.” A lazy, conspiratorial grin played on her lips then. “Especially if there’s a spoonful or two of honey in it.”

That eventually culminated in Bethany making tea for Niamh that evening, who had been locked away in her office as of late. Bethany was still nervous despite receiving permission to enter the room, allowing her to face the woman who she hadn’t seen in nearly a fortnight. Concern grew within her when she saw the shadows beneath Niamh’s eyes—a familiar indication that she had been working far too hard. She watched as Niamh struggled to blink the exhaustion from her eyes as she regarded her, but she otherwise said nothing, simply waiting to hear what Bethany required of her.

“I’m sorry," Bethany said at last, contrition clear in her voice. "This isn’t the life I would have wanted for myself, but I shouldn’t have lashed out at you when you were merely trying to help.” She held out the still-steaming mug of tea in her hands—the very thing Saoirse had convinced her would make for a suitable peace offering. “Here,” she offered with a tentative smile. “If you’re going to be working through the night again, you should at least drink something.”

For a time, Bethany believed the other woman was just going to remain silent. It would have been well-deserved given how terribly she behaved the other week, but then Niamh reached out to gently take the mug from her.

"Thank you," she said at last, the ice slowly melting behind those wintry eyes, and as they did, Bethany could feel the vice around her heart gradually unhinge itself in relief.

---

Things pretty much go back to normal between them.

Niamh and Bethany are back on the road again, especially after several reports of wandering darkspawn near the outskirts of a town.

As expected, however, Bethany's longing toward Niamh is still there—constant as an evening star. Even with the taint of death coursing through them, Niamh’s aura emanates with so much life—like a forest in winter, cool and refreshing with the scent of pine buried beneath its depths, waiting to burst into spring’s lively greenery with just the barest spark of magic.

It fascinates her.

She often wonders if such single-minded focus is a side effect of the Joining other than the enhanced physical strength and the ability to sense darkspawn. She feels a hunger that is never sated, a thirst that is never parched, and also…

Amber eyes wander over to where Niamh is disrobing to bathe in the nearby river, and she catches sight of the elegant play of muscles along her back before she studiously turns her gaze away. She feels the way her face burns even as she feels something else stir in her veins.

---

While still traveling, they get attacked by some hapless bandits, and while the two women aren't hurt, they manage to lose one of their tents to a stray grenade.

They end up sleeping in the remaining tent together, but it’s small, and they huddle together inside it for warmth against the pouring rain outside.

Bethany is surprised when she unexpectedly wakes up in Niamh’s arms—one is around her waist, and the other is curled behind her shoulders—which pull her closer in sleep. Sometimes she’s amazed at just how warm the other woman is, and although she knows she should pull away to avoid any awkward conversations in the morning, she can’t bring herself to do so. This is probably as close as she’ll ever get to the intimacy she desires with Niamh, and while the moment won’t last forever, it’ll be one more memory she can cherish—something no one else can ever steal from her.

Idly, Bethany listens to the rain outside—now a gentle pattering instead of the rage of a growing storm—falling against the material of the tent, and the sound is so rhythmic that she begins to doze off again.

---

Sometime after that, they receive a letter from Stroud, who requests their assistance with a matter out in the Free Marches. Saoirse stays behind to oversee things at Vigil’s Keep, which leaves Niamh and Bethany to travel across the Waking Sea with Nathaniel as additional support.

They arrive in Kirkwall several days before the qunari invasion begins in full, but not long after they do, Nathaniel’s reconnaissance around the city reveals something terrible:

Bethany’s mother was murdered.

Bethany is understandably upset, but Niamh and Nathaniel do their best to comfort her. They end up holding a small wake in honor of Leandra.

By the time they manage to rendezvous with Stroud, the qunari invasion has already begun, and they’re caught in the middle of it, leading to the Wardens running into Emrys Hawke and her companions.

Emrys obviously wants to talk to her little sister, but Bethany is resistant to the idea since her emotions are still riding high with the news of their mother’s death and the ever-present resentment regarding how she was made into a Warden without her say so on the matter.

Niamh recognizes Bethany’s tension and politely tells Emrys to leave the matter be for the time being. There is little point in having a conversation if one half of the party isn’t ready to have it after all.

Running on adrenaline, the warrior objects and tries to push her out of the way, but Bethany retaliates immediately on Niamh’s behalf. She presses her hand against her sister's chestplate and essentially shoves her back several steps, momentarily forgetting her Warden strength. Both Hawkes seem surprised by the ease in which she can do that.

---

“Bethany?” Emrys uttered in confusion, especially as her sister outright glared at her.

"You do not accost Warden-Constable Cousland that way!"

“Wait… ‘Cousland?’” Emrys looked over to the woman in question, taking in the obvious staff situated across her back. A wolf’s head ornament adorned the top of the weapon in exquisitely-sculpted silverite, and her eyes slowly widened in realization, remembering tales of the mage who could bend the very heavens to her whims. “Wait, you’re the Storm Wolf of Ferelden? Sister to the Hero of Ferelden?”

The woman merely gave a long-suffering sigh in response. “I suppose I was being too optimistic in assuming Leliana’s tales would’ve lost their weight this far past Ferelden’s borders…”

---

Despite the chaos ravaging itself across Kirkwall, the Wardens can’t stay to help. As such, they’re not there to see the end of the invasion. It isn’t until Bethany returns to Ferelden with the others that she receives a letter from Varric, saying that Emrys nearly died in her duel against the Arishok.

While Varric takes the time to mention that Emrys is recovering, and that her bravery led to her becoming Kirkwall’s Champion, the idea that Bethany had nearly lost the very last member of her family is so shocking that she's left inconsolable one night.

---

"I was such an absolute wretch to her before we left, and she nearly died afterward!” she wept when Niamh came to check on her in her room. “She’ll never forgive me!"

The other woman’s eyes are sympathetic as she held her in her arms. "Don’t be so sure."

"How can you say that?" Bethany demanded as she looked up at her, eyes red and swollen with grief.

"I’ve seen the way you talk about her, Bethany. The memories stir up more than just hurt within you,” she explained. “They light your eyes up with joy in remembrance of them. I’m sure she misses you and wishes things had gone differently. She wouldn’t have bothered sending all these letters to you otherwise over the years.

"My siblings did the same when I was still in Kinloch Hold, where I often wondered if my family had forgotten all about me. There were times I feared my being a mage would have meant their love for me would have gone away, but it didn’t. I received letters from them all the time—sometimes over the most asinine things like Saoirse’s warhound tossing bits of her armor into the pig pen." Niamh rolled her eyes, but Bethany could see the fondness in her gaze before they refocused on her.

"Your sister has asked for nothing in return even in the times where you never sent word back. I won’t tell you how to resolve this. You were right in saying that no one truly asks for this life, but I believe she only had the best of intentions when she entrusted your safety to Stroud. Trust in that if nothing else, and if you still find the matter wanting, tell her so." Something sad and brittle lingered on the smile she shared with her. "The what-ifs hurt more than the reality of things at times. No one deserves that."

---

Niamh helps to cheer Bethany up over the course of several weeks.

They’re off in a nearby town, investigating more sightings of darkspawn, and Niamh goes downstairs to pay the innkeeper for breakfast while Bethany packs up some of her belongings to continue their journey. When she reaches for her staff, she blinks, startled to find an ice flower blossoming on the end of it. She stares in surprise at the door the other woman had left through because there’s no way someone else could have done this.

It's almost like something out of a scene from one of those romantic tales Leliana used to tell her back in Lothering. She had thought them nonsense at first—that surely no one actually did such sweet things in real life—but now…

Bethany gently brushes her fingers over the beautifully-conjured petals and leaves, feeling the cool aura radiating from them.

Now she’s not so sure.

---

During their travels, they’re ambushed by darkspawn, and in the middle of the fighting, the ground manages to crumble beneath both women’s feet. The fall is long and painful as they slide down an old mine shaft, and soon they find themselves down in the Deep Roads. Unfortunately, it's an area they haven't charted yet, so they have no idea where they even are.

They have rations from the last time Niamh hunted and smoked some game, but they know it won't last forever. They can feel the press of darkspawn everywhere against their senses, and it's difficult to get any real bearing down in the tunnels because of it. The ambushes are sporadic throughout the days as they try to find their way back to the surface. They have taken to sleeping in brief shifts so they’re not caught unaware.

One fight lags on long enough that they have to retreat, but their enemies lead them right into the lair of a broodmother.

Bethany has never seen something so hideous in all her life, but when she turns briefly to Niamh, she’s disquieted to find the other woman looks more terrified than she's ever seen her. She barely has time to think over that before the darkspawn attack them again, but now they have the broodmother and her various tentacles to dodge as well.

The fight rages on for quite awhile, long enough that Bethany voices the thought they might never see Vigil's Keep again.

---

“No.”

"Niamh—"

"No!" she repeated firmly, glaring as she lashed out with an arm, incinerating an advancing line of darkspawn to their right. "I am getting you out of here! I swear it!"

You.

Not us.

What are you planning, Niamh? Bethany couldn't help but think worriedly.

Then she felt the sudden rush of magic—causing Bethany to almost stumble in place at the overwhelming sensation—as Niamh’s aura manifested itself more tangibly in an array of colors. Blinding arcs of lightning and lines of roaring flames raced across her form, and Bethany could see her own breath forming in rapid, exhausted puffs as the temperature inside the entire cavern seemed to drop even as the stone walls rattled ominously from the breadth of absolute magic being conjured.

The power of it was soon unleashed as Niamh slammed her staff end into the ground, allowing countless rays of energy to simply explode from her body. They radiated out like spectral hands of vengeance, and the cries of the darkspawn were nearly drowned out entirely as utter destruction rained down upon them. Each blast hit like deafening peals of thunder, and the echoes of them spanned for several long heartbeats, leaving Bethany’s ears ringing even after everything eventually fell silent.

As the dust and debris finally settled from the turbulent winds, she could see the other mage leaning heavily upon her staff, utterly exhausted. Each breath she took seemed to be a laborious effort, but Bethany watched as those eyes remained keenly alert to their surroundings, waiting to see if any of the darkspawn she had laid waste to would try and attack them again. They both tensed upon hearing the low, wailing groan of pain, and they looked to the far side of the cavern to see the broodmother still alive—albeit barely.

While already repulsive, it was now a macabre mass of flesh, bleeding sluggishly from the wounds inflicted by Niamh’s attack. Bloated skin bore severe burn marks, and entire chunks of flesh were missing. One of the broodmother’s arms had been severed completely, but the heat from one of the elemental attacks had unintentionally cauterized the fat stump even if Bethany grimaced upon seeing the pink-tinged bone that still protruded from it. The broodmother’s entire form seemed to slump back with what they assumed was her final breath, but then the sudden sound of earth breaking behind them alerted them far too late to a final danger.

Bethany turned her head just in time to see a lashing tentacle sprout from the ground, and her mind barely registered the sight of it before she heard the frantic call of her name along with warm hands pressing against her side.

"Bethany!"

As if time had slowed itself, she watched in horror as Niamh pushed her out of the tentacle’s swooping path, but in doing so, the other woman took the brunt of the attack entirely. Niamh was sent flying into one of the naturally-formed pillars of the cavern, impacting it hard enough that it broke at its center, raining rubble down upon the mage resting eerily still at its base until she was buried beneath it.

Bethany’s eyes remained fixed on the sight even as she shakily rose to her hands and knees. An overwhelming sense of disbelief overtook when her longtime partner didn't emerge at all out of the stone pile. In fact, there's a terrifying lack of anything in that direction.

Nothing of the taint in Niamh's blood.

No sound.

No magic.

Just... nothing.

Distantly, she could hear the half-dying moans of the broodmother somewhere beyond her peripheral vision. Although Bethany was all too aware of how dangerous her current situation still was, all she could feel was a staggering rush of absolute rage building inside her. It seemed to grow with every beat of her heart until she could hear it pounding inside her ears—a drumming sound of accusation over the fact that she had been powerless to help someone dear to her yet again.

It was her anger that gave birth to the sudden burst of power—whether a second wind or simply a dying gasp, she didn’t immediately know—but Bethany whirled to face the grotesque beast, magic already gathering within her hands. With an infuriated cry, she pressed her palms out, and she felt the immense displacement of air around her immediately as she summoned enough force magic to take up almost the entire space of the cavern. The pressure of it proved too much against the broodmother, and Bethany watched impassively as its enormous body was flung toward the far wall with enough violence that it was reduced to a grisly splatter of darkened blood, pulverized bone, and putrid meat.

With its death, Bethany felt the presence of darkspawn waiting beyond the cavern retreat even further, as if afraid of tempting her fury. Safe from any immediate threats, however, she wasted little time in rushing over to where she last saw Niamh. She used her hands and magic to try and dig her out beneath the rubble, but when she found her, fear took hold of her immediately when she realized the other woman wasn’t breathing anymore. Desperately, Bethany tried to use her healing magic in an attempt revive her, but to her utter dismay, the chest beneath her hands remained impossibly still.

“Oh, no…” she breathed. “No. No! You can’t be dead! Niamh, get up!”

But her cry fell on deaf ears.

Despite her best efforts, no matter how much healing she tried to force through the other woman’s veins, Niamh didn’t respond. As each minute continued to pass by in silence, Bethany began to wonder what she’d have to tell Morrigan if she ever made it back to the surface, let alone the little boy with Niamh’s kind smile. It would be such a terrible thing, she knew, informing them the woman they loved died trying to save her.

Just like everyone that ever entered her life.

Leaving before she even got the chance to give her goodbyes.

Bethany withdrew her healing magic and began conjuring lightning beneath her hands instead—the same way Niamh had taught her once upon a time—desperate for anything that could attempt to shock some life back into the other woman. Niamh’s body jolted with each burst of power, head lolling about along the dirt, but she still remained impossibly beyond Bethany’s reach—perhaps now wandering past the Fade and into the Maker’s embrace.

At the thought, her anguish soon gave way to anger.

“Damn you, you selfish wretch!” she shouted as she pressed her hand over the woman’s sternum with another pulse of electricity. “I never asked you to try and save my life! You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to just leave me here when I never had to chance to tell you everything! Not when you don’t even know I love y—”

Just as she went to jolt the other woman again, Bethany felt a hand firmly wrapping itself around her wrist.

Shocked, she looked up toward Niamh's face, especially as she heard a very weak cough. The other mage hadn't opened her eyes yet, but she saw how the still blue-tinged lips began to move—too soft for her to hear anything. Bethany lowered her head to listen more closely and soon heard a quiet question.

"...are you alright?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and fresh tears began to fill Bethany's eyes again in spite of herself.

Even after everything they had both suffered through, Niamh's first concern had still been solely for her.

With a shaky breath, she carefully curled herself up against Niamh’s form, crying silently even as she rested her hand against the other woman's stomach to continue and apply weak, healing magic.

That was how the other Wardens found them later.

"There they are."

Bethany didn’t pick her head up off the floor, but there was little mistaking Morrigan's distinct voice. Saoirse’s own followed soon after.

"I owe you my thanks for this, Morrigan."

“Thank your sister; I would not have been able to find her were she still not wearing the ring I gave her years ago.”

A weary chuckled greeted the mage’s words. “Ever the sentimental woman, my little sister…”

The sound of heavy footsteps treading closer caused Bethany to look up, and she could see Saoirse kneeling down next to them. The warrior’s face was worn with stress, but there was nothing but relief in her eyes as she saw them both together. "It appears I owe you my thanks as well, Bethany." She jerked her head up then, shouting out an order. "Get a litter for them now!"

"But I'm not nearly as injured," Bethany protested, drawing her hand away from Niamh’s body self-consciously, especially when Morrigan appeared and began to take over healing and stabilizing the woman’s condition with fresh magic.

"No," Saoirse admitted even as her lips lifted up into a tired smile. "But you and I both know what a terrible patient my sister is. I’ll be depending on you to make sure she behaves herself if she wakes up during our trek back to Vigil’s Keep.” She gently clapped a hand over Bethany’s shoulder. “Thank you. I owe you a debt.”

“Warden-Commander—”

“No. Niamh and I have lost enough in our lives. It would have hurt me to lose her as well.”

---

Niamh remains unconscious for several days as she recovers back at Vigil's Keep.

Bethany and Morrigan basically take turns looking after her.

Despite the other woman’s position as a member of Orlais’ Imperial Court, it seemed Morrigan returned to Ferelden after receiving a frantic letter from Saoirse, saying that Niamh and Bethany had been missing for several days following a routine mission.

As mentioned in the previous section, Morrigan gave Niamh a ring, which would allow her to find her were she ever in danger. It proved especially useful when Niamh and the other Wardens were imprisoned in Fort Drakon, where Saoirse essentially put her foot in her mouth and ruined their attempt to sneak Queen Anora out of the estate she had been held captive in.

I believe the ring is only canonically available if a player is in a romance with Morrigan. However, I’m headcanoning that because she held Niamh in such high esteem, she gave it to her anyway.

Kieran is also present at Vigil’s Keep because there’s no way Morrigan was leaving him behind in Orlais. He’s about five years old at this point, and he’s grown to inherit both his mothers’ looks. A crown of dark, loose curls sits atop his head much like Niamh’s, and he even fashions a forelock like hers, which hangs in front of his right eye. His gaze is a piercing shade of gold reminiscent to Morrigan’s own. As a possessor of an Old God Soul, he’s also begun to speak cryptically at times, which is understandably jarring to those around him.

Bethany happens upon one such conversation by accident, and she immediately pauses in the doorway when she sees Morrigan and Kieran standing at Niamh’s bedside.

“Sire was caught within the paths of the Fade, Mother. She heard the voices of old ghosts calling to her, but she didn’t follow them.”

Morrigan indulgently runs a hand through her son’s hair. “Indeed; she did not.”

“She missed them though, but she still returned to us.”

“Of course. Why would she desire an eternity without you?” she asked with a fond smile, causing Kieran to giggle.

“That’s not why, Mother! Not completely.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She would have missed the Sunshine too much. She’s been following her warmth for years. It would have hurt her to be without it.”

Kieran’s words pull at Bethany oddly, but she soon pushes them out of her mind and quietly walks away, feeling too much like an intruder upon the small family.

Thankfully, Niamh regains consciousness not long afterward, and everyone is understandably relieved by this news.

As per usual, however, Niamh proves herself to be an exceedingly stubborn patient, but perhaps wanting to set a better example for Kieran after her near-death experience, she remains in bed for the duration of her recovery. The other woman doesn’t seem to mind too much, especially given that her son continues to keep her company, telling her of the various odd things he’s seen around Orlais and the even odder people.

After several weeks under Morrigan’s watchful eye, the witch begrudgingly says that Niamh's okay to begin light duty around the Keep, relieving the other mage immensely. She goes out herb-gathering, an excuse just to get out of the fortress, and Bethany volunteers to go with her.

Things are quiet between them for a time as they begin picking up elfroot to place in the shared basket between them. Their conversations as of late haven't been of anything too substantial. A good thing, Bethany thinks, considering her feelings for her and how close she’d been to revealing them. Soon, however, they're caught in the middle of a light rain shower, and Bethany says they should head back. She begins to lead their way out of the forest when Niamh’s words stop her in her tracks.

---

"I was waiting for you to say it again, you know."

Bethany looked over her shoulder in surprise to still see Niamh standing in the middle of the clearing, her gaze expectant. “What?” she asked nervously.

"When I nearly died, I heard you say something… significant to me,” she revealed, causing Bethany’s heart to pound as she stared at her in disbelief. “However, when I recovered and you never repeated those words again, I thought it might have been little more than a fever dream of mine." Niamh's smile turned sad then when Bethany said nothing else to her words. "Perhaps it was after all... I’m sorry. I’ve made this rather awkward then, haven’t I?” She took a few steps closer, reaching toward the basket of herbs Bethany still held in her hands. “Here, let me—”

But Bethany just let it drop to the ground before she reached out to grab the collar of Niamh’s cloak. The other woman seemed taken aback, but before she can even begin voicing a question, Bethany pulled her forward to kiss her desperately in the rain, swallowing her gasp of surprise.

As far as first kisses went, it was a touch awkward as their teeth clicked together, lips mashed between them. Bethany felt a moment of panic as Niamh pulled back, but before the urge to run away in mortification could overtake her, a warm palm pressed itself against the back of her neck, keeping her in place. There was the brush of knuckles as they ran along her jaw, and Bethany was just able to catch the silver of Niamh’s eyes before all thought fled from her mind upon feeling the soft press of the other woman’s mouth on hers.

Bethany followed into the easy guidance being offered, and they both soon settled into a comfortable rhythm that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine. She felt light-headed with giddy delight, and her hands reached out to hold onto Niamh’s hips, helping to ground herself there, as their kiss continued. There was a soft sound as Niamh sighed contentedly into her mouth, as if she had been waiting just as long for this moment between them.

The thought seemed almost too impossible to comprehend, especially when she knew Niamh was committed to someone else. As such, Bethany pulled away first despite the sound of protest it caused. Despite her resolve, Bethany was reluctant to pull away from Niamh entirely, so she settled for gently leaning her forehead against the other mage as they panted quietly in the rain.

"I'm so sorry," she said breathlessly, practically speaking the words against Niamh’s lips. "It wasn't my intention to interfere with your relationship with Morrigan."

As close as they were, there was little mistaking the clear confusion in the eyes across from hers. "'With Morrigan?'" Niamh repeated. "What does she have anything to do with us?"

"But… I thought—” Her brows drew together in consternation. “Aren’t you both together?"

"What? No," Niamh answered, almost amused by the idea. "When we laid together for the ritual, it was an agreement of mutual benefit meant only for that night. She's not—Well." An exhale of breath escaped her in the form of laughter. "Morrigan's admitted she's not interested in women—or anyone, really—in quite that way, but none of the male Wardens with us at the time dared to lay with her even if it meant sparing us all from death. She trusted me, and I her. I consider Morrigan one of my dearest friends, and we share Kieran together as a result of that night, yes, but we are certainly not bound together as others seem to believe."

And Niamh’s answer suddenly changed everything.

What Bethany had been feeling, what was now possible between her and Niamh...

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally realized she could have a bit of the happiness she’d always wanted for herself.

---

So everyone knows that they’re a couple after that.

Niamh becomes more overt in the romantic things she does for her—the very same things Bethany had thought were the woman simply being thoughtful. She finds out that Niamh had apparently been interested in her for awhile and had actually been ready to confess her feelings a few years ago, but their first argument, where Bethany had accused her of being too idealistic, had stemmed the thought immediately.

Niamh had been understandably heartbroken by the words, which was why she’d had been so despondent for weeks following the incident, believing Bethany had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. The apology in her office later had restored their friendship, and while Niamh had been disappointed it likely would never evolve into anything more beyond that, she was still determined to be a good friend to her if nothing else. 

Bethany’s completely exasperated at the idea that they could have been together long before now, but she realizes it was likely better this way.

She had needed time to get over her anger and resentment regarding her life as a Warden.

She needed time to get past her guilt and the complicated thoughts regarding herself and her faith.

And she needed time to grow into herself and discover who she was as a person.

She’s grateful that Niamh’s been so kind and patient over the years, and Bethany finds great joy in the new facet of their relationship together.

They’ve kissed and been involved in heavy makeout sessions around Vigil’s Keep—much to the exasperation of their colleagues—but barring the incident that led to Kieran’s conception, Niamh’s been celibate for years, and canonical dialogue in DA2 reveals that Bethany’s pretty much a virgin. As such, she’s understandably very shy and nervous about the whole thing. However, she knew every part of her would be in good hands with Niamh when they finally reached that point.

Their first time together takes place several months after their first kiss, where Niamh tries her utmost to make it a memorable thing for them. She takes Bethany to a grove they frequent together outside of Vigil’s Keep for a midnight picnic. The moon is full, and the skies are clear, revealing an endless sea of stars. Little fireflies dance over the surface of the lake while they sit on the grass along its shore.

It’s a casual reminder that for all their hardship, life goes on and finds a way through a magic all of its own.

They stargaze for and handfeed each other little bits of food in between kisses, but soon things start getting a little more heated. Niamh gently tugs Bethany onto her lap, who follows willingly, settling her knees on either side of the woman’s hips. Bethany takes some initiative of her own, pushing at Niamh’s chest slowly until she lowers herself against the grass, and then…

---

Bethany’s breath caught in her throat upon seeing Niamh’s features haloed by the soft glow of the little fireflies. Normally pale eyes had darkened at their edges with both pleasure and interest as she regarded her, leaving Bethany flushed, especially as she realized she doesn’t quite know what to do from there on out.

Perhaps having sensed that, Niamh reached up to gently run a thumb along the corner of her mouth, and Bethany barely resisted the urge to press her lips against the pad in a kiss as slim fingers then went to cup her cheek gently.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Niamh reassured as she brushed a few strands of Bethany’s hair behind an ear. “I quite like kissing you.”

But Bethany did want to.

She knew Niamh had more experience with sexual intimacy, and she worried she couldn’t be able to compare against the woman’s past paramours. There was no expectation in those starlit eyes however. Niamh was as relaxed as she had been when they first started, and Bethany knew she would have been more than content to lay with her beneath the stars if that was all she desired. She was always considerate with her feelings, never pressing her to do more than she was ready.

Thus, Bethany knew Niamh would be patient with her during their first time together.

“If I asked, would you show me what to do?” she whispered tentatively, and she watched as the corners of those lips turned up into soft smile.

“Always,” Niamh answered, gently tugging Bethany’s hand toward the buckle holding the front of her leather and steel-riveted brigandine closed. “Here. Help me out of this first please.” 

From there, Bethany quickly realized it all wasn’t quite as simple as the tawdry novels Isabela used to loan her made it out to be. Nothing really prepared for the warmth of the flesh beneath her fingertips as she gradually disrobed her lover of the layers that made up their Warden regalia. Fortune favored the bold, she knew, and she experimented by pressing kisses against skin as more was revealed to her. She smiled against Niamh’s sternum—pleased—when she heard the exceedingly rare quiver in her voice.

As promised, however, the other woman continued to give suggestions on what types of touches would best give pleasure, but she also allowed Bethany to set the pace of whatever she felt most comfortable with. With each encouraging whisper against her ear, each caress and rock of her hand became more confident. When Niamh shuddered beneath her for the first time—the barest hint of magic curling against her own—as she reached her peak, Bethany was convinced that she had never felt more triumphant.

And she didn’t think she had ever felt so unfettered when Niamh later returned the favor by kissing a line of fire down her bare body. Those mist-grey eyes never left her own gaze though. Bethany had long known how attentive the other mage could be. As their lead tactician, there was always a studious quality in how she approached anything set before her.

Feeling the full magnitude of that attention focused solely upon her, however, was another matter entirely. Niamh stared at her as if she had hung the very moon and the infinite tapestry of stars into the night sky. It was like she was her very reason for drawing breath, and the thought of that brought forth a stunning wash of emotions over her as she saw the clear reverence in those eyes—so much so that she couldn’t help the tears beading themselves across her lashes nor her soft, surprised exhale of laughter when Niamh leaned up to gently kiss them away.

It was only when she assured her lover that she was ready to continue that Niamh returned to her exploration. The woman was committed to learning every part of her, gauging every physical response—the touches that made her moan breathlessly or sigh in contentment with the press of lips against her skin—before reacting accordingly. She felt that dedication most vividly as a warm mouth settled between her thighs and began working itself thoroughly there.

Bethany couldn’t help but break eye contact with Niamh as she threw her head back against the cool grass, lost to the new but pleasant sensations coursing their way through her body. Her hips seemed to move of their own volition, especially as the almost overwhelming heat of a tongue pressed itself flat and lapped languidly at her.

After a time, it felt like she was freefalling, and she blindly reached out toward Niamh. One hand sank itself easily into the tousled waves of raven-black hair, but with the other, Bethany found slim fingers gently intertwining themselves with her own. There was strength and reassurance within the warmth of that grasp—a steady tether to ground her—even as Niamh continued with her ministrations, quickly unraveling the foundations of her world.

Were you the answer this entire time?

Were you the one whom my heart was always waiting for?

Bethany found her answer just as her climax crested over her.

---

The next scene takes place several months after Niamh’s and Bethany’s first time together but just before the Kirkwall Rebellion.

Niamh heads over to Amaranthine to see her aunt, Eithne Mac Eanraig, since she's the Arlessa there.

Now, here’s where I’m veering off from canon.

Per the events of Awakening, the Warden ends up becoming the Warden-Commander, and for their services during the Fifth Blight, Vigil’s Keep along with the entire arling of Amaranthine was given to the Grey Wardens. The fortress and the territory originally belonged to the Howes, but after Rendon Howe’s betrayal, all titles and properties were stripped away from them. As such, the Warden-Commander would also become the Arl or Arlessa of Amaranthine.

Per my headcanon though, Saoirse felt that she couldn’t tend to both her duties as a Warden while also ruling over the arling. Thus, she suggests to King Alistair to let her aunt oversee it instead.

While Eithne is technically my own creation, it was canonical that Eleanor had three siblings prior to marrying Bryce Cousland. All the children of Bann Fearcher Mac Eanraig—also known as the Storm Giant—were exceedingly skilled raiders although Eleanor was the most infamous of them. Still, I headcanon that Eithne’s own prowess allowed her to take over as head of the family and their impressive fleet after her father’s death sometime before the events of DAO.

I also headcanon that the Mac Eanraigs and their fleet proved instrumental during the Fifth Blight, allowing desperately-needed supplies to travel to the country without fear of them being intercepted by pirates. When the reconstruction of Ferelden began in full following the defeat of the Archdemon, Eithne opted to expand the services of her family’s fleet, offering to escort any incoming and also outgoing cargo ships. This allowed trade to flourish in Ferelden since the threat of piracy was reduced greatly against the might of the former raiding family and their respective crews. With goods being consistently transported and received, it led to the otherwise pricey import and export tariffs being lowered significantly.

It expanded the influence of the Mac Eanraigs considerably to say the least, and while they were of minor nobility compared to the Couslands, the family was already well-respected for their long connection to the Storm Coast and their role in the Fereldan Rebellion as well as the Fifth Blight.

As such, no objection was given by Ferelden’s Bannorn when the Mac Eanraigs were consequently raised further in nobility by the decree of King Alistair and Queen Anora, allowing Eithne to officially be named Arlessa to the city of Amaranthine.

---

"Aunt Eithne," Niamh began, walking into her office, "may I have access to the castle's forge?"

The older woman was sat behind her desk, looking through various reports when she glanced up at her. Kind, weathered features warmed instantly. "Ah, there's my wee Storm Pup," she said as she rose to her feet to meet her. "You know you’re welcome to anything within the castle, lass. I take it that blacksmith of yours is being stubborn at Vigil’s Keep again?"

As per usual, Niamh found herself looking up at her aunt as she rounded the edge of her desk. While her late mother Eleanor had been roughly her own size, the Mac Eanraigs as a whole towered over most people with their intimidating height and broad-shouldered frames—traits that Fergus and also Saoirse inherited as they grew into adulthood. In her youth, Niamh remembered that her Aunt Eithne had also possessed her mother’s pale blonde hair, but it had since turned silver with age and was now kept in a neat braid that dangled in front of her right shoulder. She imagined that Saoirse would likely resemble their aunt greatly in looks over the next few decades.

…provided they find a cure against the Calling first, of course.

Morrigan’s arcane research had turned up several possibilities, but the latest one she’d found seemed especially promising. Still, Niamh put the thought from her mind momentarily to answer her aunt’s question.

"You and I both know Master Wade won’t allow anyone to go near his forge. He’d pout for weeks on end before we could convince him to resume work again,” she said dryly before shrugging. “Just as well, I suppose. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. What I have in mind is more of a personal project."

Dark grey eyes blinked. "Oh?" she intoned curiously.

"It's... Well." Niamh shifted from foot to foot, a tad nervous to put her thoughts into words. "I'm making matching torcs for Bethany and I, so—oof!"

No sooner after she had stated her purpose did Niamh unexpectedly found herself drawn up into a crushing hug by her aunt, who lifted her clear off her feet with the force of it.

"Haha!" Eithne crowed with delighted laughter as she twirled her about. "Wait until I tell your uncles about this! Why, it’s been ages since we’ve had a wedding in the family!"

"We had one a year ago for Fergus and Olithia," Niamh corrected hoarsely as she tried to wriggle out of her aunt's grip to little avail. Corded muscles built over a lifetime at sea ensured the woman’s strength was nigh unbreakable. "And there was another for Saoirse and Leliana before that."

"Details, wee niece, details," she brushed aside when she placed Niamh back on her feet again, placing large hands over each of her shoulders with a grin. "Honestly, I was half-convinced my ashes would be scattered across the sea before I saw my last niece be married off! Dermot!" she called out loudly beyond the walls of office to her second-in-command, leaving Niamh wincing from the sheer volume of it. "Break out the casks! We’re celebrating tonight!"

Niamh merely sighed, somehow glad that Bethany was currently away from Vigil’s Keep with Nathaniel to tend to a matter out in another seaside province. There was no way she’d be able to surprise her with a proposal otherwise.

---

Bethany didn't know what to really expect when Niamh took her out to their favored grove, but then she was offered a… necklace of some sort. It was thick and sturdy but exquisitely-crafted. It formed an incomplete circle, but there was no clasp holding both ends together. As she took the necklace into her own hands, she found there was a certain pliability to it as she stretched the space between the twin, silverite wolf heads open a bit more.

"I spent weeks getting the details just right," Niamh admitted. "The hardest part was finding the perfect bits of citrine to match your eyes," she added, pointing to the small, gemstone orbs held in the maw of each wolf.

"You made this for me?" Bethany asked, awed.

"Yes. It’s a custom from the maternal side of my family. They’re generally gifted to those of status or individuals who have achieved great deeds. The more bands woven together designate one's importance." Niamh's expression turned somewhat sheepish then. "I don't think it needs to be said that I think highly of you."

Bethany looked at the thick braiding and saw that there were at least five bands wound together in a cord and then welded together.

"I..." Niamh wet her lips briefly, as if caught beneath sudden nervousness. "I realize marriage is usually just a matter of settling titles and heirs, but I believe you know by now that my family tends to eschew commonly-held norms. As such, I would consider it a great honor if you were to become my wife. As for anything official—a wedding for instance—we needn't concern ourselves with it right away. Not if you don't wish to certainly." Silver-colored eyes rolled themselves. "Honestly, my family uses any type of excuse available to throw a celebration. They’ll likely still drink the night away, knowing that I’ve finally settled down with someone."

Bethany couldn’t help but laugh at that. "They were that invested, were they?"

"Before you, they had a tendency to think I was more married to my duty within the Order, and I can’t say that were not wrong in thinking so."

"And that’s changed?"

"Well... I was managing day by day as well as any of our comrades, but I won’t lie in saying that there came a point when you were all I could ever think about in the many moments in between."

It was… quite the confession.

In an instant, all the stories her mother had ever told her of romance paled in comparison to this moment.

"Yes," Bethany said at last, watching as the ghostly-grey eyes across from her widened, but there was little hiding the hope building within their depths.

"Yes?"

"Yes to the—" She stumbled a bit over the word. "—torcs, you said?” Bethany asked in clarification, earning her a nod along with a very relieved sigh. “I don’t want a ceremony.” She bit her lip as she stared down at the thickly-braided necklace. “At least not just yet, but I like the idea of the promise these contain.”

“You would like to have your sister here when the time comes,” Niamh deduced understandingly. “Very well.”

“You can wait?”

A very warm smile burnished beautiful features that she had long fallen in love with so many years ago. “A Chuisle Mo Chroí,” she began, voicing an endearment that never ceased to make her heart flutter, “for you, I would gladly wait a thousand Ages and more.” (Writer’s note: A Chuisle Mo Chroí is phonetically pronounced Ah Khush-lah Muh Kree and means “Pulse of My Heart.”)

The words earned her a heartfelt kiss of gratitude. If Niamh noticed Bethany was trembling, she said nothing of it. In fact, they both had little to say at all as they slowly lowered themselves to the grass and surrendered themselves to the night and the promise of everyday thereafter.

---

The Kirkwall Rebellion still happens in this verse, and because Saoirse's busy butting heads with the higher-ups at Weisshaupt, she sends word to Niamh, asking her to go to Kirkwall to provide Leliana backup if things get bad. Bethany is concerned as well about the well-being of her sister Emrys, and she asks to go with her. Niamh, of course, can't really deny her anything, so they both take the fastest ship across the Waking Sea.

---

"There you are," Bethany declared when she managed to come across her sister and her companions despite the chaos around them. She settled her staff over her back, walking through the tangle of defeated Templars around her to meet them. "We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I'd almost feared you were dead."

Emrys hadn’t expected Bethany’s presence in the city, but she’s beyond elated to see her. At her words, the warrior merely preened. "As if they'd be able to best me. And, uh, what’s this about 'we?'" Emrys asked, confused. “Did you bring the other Wardens with you?”

“Just one.”

As if attuned to her thoughts, Niamh made her entrance then by Fadestepping through a handful of Templars—who had arrived on scene as backup—freezing them in their tracks. She and Bethany had momentarily split up to try and cover more ground in search of Emrys.

Bethany arched a brow at her sister while gesturing toward her lover with an emphatic wave. "You remember Warden-Constable Cousland, don’t you?"

Emrys had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed as she recalled their last meeting, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she regarded Niamh. "Oh. Yes. Uh, about the last time we met—"

But Niamh seemed amused more than anything, waving aside the apology graciously. “Bygones, Champion. No need to worry yourself about the past. My sister’s a warrior as well; I’ve fared worse on the rare occasion."

"In any case, Sister, if you need help, we’ll gladly give it."

“Really?”

“Yes. I…” Bethany swept a bit of hair behind her ear nervously, but as Niamh settled alongside her, offering her wordless support, she continued on. “I wanted to apologize for what happened down in the Deep Roads and for how we parted the last time I was here. You saved my life, but I couldn’t see past my own anger back then. I’m sorry,” she whispered, contrite. “I should have said it long before now. You’re all I have left of our family, so if you need help against the Templars, say the word.”

Emrys looked beyond thrilled at the prospect of having her at her side again. “I’m certainly not going to turn away help now of all times, but…” She shot a look of confusion over toward Niamh. “I thought Wardens weren’t to involve themselves in political matters?"

The other mage merely sighed. “While true, that follows a line of policy that my sister and I strenuously object to, especially given the matter involved here. She and I will deal with the leadership at Weisshaupt later if need be." Slim shoulder shrugged themselves then. "Of course, even if my sister-in-law weren't nearby, Bethany wanted to help, and that was good enough reason for me to be here."

Emrys’ dark brows rose at the claim, and she immediately turned a searching gaze over toward Bethany, who couldn’t help but turn her own away, flushing somewhat.

"Yes… Niamh and I are a bit of a package deal these days."

Unfortunately, the minor shift in movement allowed for something else to be revealed, and Isabela took notice of it immediately as her eyes darted toward the area of her neck just beneath the collar of her uniform.

“Wait… is that a torc?" she asked, brows raising, impressed.

“A what?" Emrys asked, flustered, especially when she saw the matching one that Niamh was also wearing.

“It's a little bit of tradition from my mother’s side of the family,” Niamh explained. “They’re beautifully-crafted pieces of jewelry, but they can be as symbolic as rings, especially in the ceremonial sense."

"'Rings?'" Emrys parroted with a choke. “‘Ceremon—’” The warrior paled instantly as she realized the implication, shakily pressing her hand against a nearby wall to steady herself when she began swaying in place. “Oh, Maker’s breath… I think—I need a moment,” she murmured, and Bethany watched—concerned—when Emrys practically folded in over herself, working to catch a breath. After a time, Emrys’ comically-wide blue eyes turned over to Niamh. “You’re married to my baby sister?"

"Engaged, technically," Niamh answered, blinking owlishly at her reaction. “I proposed to her before we left Ferelden."

---

Annnnd then Saoirse shows up because she got worried about Leliana, and she and Emrys get along like peas in a pod. They’re exceedingly competitive with one another though...

---

“Hah!” Saoirse crowed, grinning smugly at Emrys as she rested the flat of her greatsword along her shoulder. “Is that the best Kirkwall’s Champion can do? I managed to neatly cleave my opponent in half.”

Emrys merely scowled, matching pace with Saoirse as they marched toward The Gallows. “Only because I helped! Besides, that strike wouldn’t have held against him if he had a shield as well!”

“Yes, it would have!”

“Lies!” Emrys scoffed. “It would have been caught halfway through the shield before you would have been able to reach his armor!“

“Not with the proper leverage it wouldn’t have!”

As they argued heatedly about sword techniques, Niamh and Bethany shared a long-suffering glance with one another before moving on ahead of their respective sisters.

“Warriors…”

“Indeed.”

---

Eventually, this all culminates in that huge battle at the end of DA2, where Meredith is defeated. As per canon, it becomes clear that it’s no longer safe for Emrys and her companions to remain within the city without eventually facing possible repercussions from the Chantry. As such, they begin scattering to the winds not long after the end of the rebellion.

---

"You could come with us, you know," Emrys suggested.

Bethany looked over to where her sister stood next to Isabela, ready to board the ship that would take them to Antiva. Emrys’ expression was almost painfully hopeful, but Bethany knew it wasn't meant to be. Although she had resented it once upon a time, she had a duty to the Wardens, and she would not easily abandon it. She said as much to her sister.

"No. Niamh currently seeks a cure that affects the lives of every Warden."

"A cure for the Calling?” she asked, surprised. “Is that even possible?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. She is easily the cleverest person I’ve ever met though. If there is a solution, she will be the most likely one to find it, and I will not stand to be apart from her."

"I see.” Emrys rubbed the back of her neck, shoulders slumping somewhat. “So… this is goodbye again."

It was admittedly a bittersweet feeling, knowing that this had been the first time in years they had seen one another and it would likely be several more yet before they would meet again.

"For now,” she answered quietly. “You have your life, Sister, and now…" She glanced over at Niamh, who was talking to the captain of a ship heading back to lands far to the west—ones that had never been touched by the Blight, according to Morrigan. “I have mine.”

Emrys followed her gaze. “You seem happier."

"I am."

“That’s all I ever wanted for you, you know? Just to know that you were happy.”

“I know that now." Her smile turned more genuine as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around Emrys, hugging her for all she was worth. "I wish the same upon you always. Safe travels to you and Isabela, Sister."

---

And as mentioned in the bullet points up above, they spend several years traveling abroad. Some days are harder than others as they meet their fair share of challenges, but Niamh and Bethany support each endlessly through it all.

They both return to Ferelden several years after the Trepasser DLC when they’ve found a cure for the Calling. With the taint purged from their bodies, they’re guaranteed the long life that would have otherwise been denied to them. As such, Niamh and Bethany finally get married—torcs gleaming bright—as Leliana as Divine Victoria officiates the wedding.

---

And that’s pretty much it.

I have about 20 pages of random scenes I’ve yet to elaborate on for this AU, including one for the huge battle at the end of DA2, so while I don’t see it as being nearly as long as OtSttCA, it’ll likely make for quite the lengthy read when I finally get a chance to work on it properly.

Still, if this verse interests you, leave me a like, a comment, or just swing by my inbox to tell me your thoughts! Until next time, readers! Take care!

[msommers]

LITTLE INQUISITION MOMENTS.

WHERE WAS YOUR CHARACTER WHEN THE BREACH FIRST OPENED? WHAT WAS GOING THROUGH THEIR HEAD IN THE IMMEDIATE AFTERMATH?

in the denerim market, worrying over the coin she had just spent allowing her brother to pick out what he wanted for his birthday, and doing her gosh darn best to hide it from him (even though he's old enough to understand such things, she still doesn't want to burden him any more than necessary). 

i don't? think?? that she would have been able to see the breach all the way in denerim, or even just. perceive the entire event at the conclave happening at all in the moment. so, technically: still fretting about the family coin, beginning to plan out their meals for the week and hoping garahel wouldn't be too upset that they couldn't have something special to eat that night. ((later when she has learned about what happened at the temple of ashes, she’s a little afraid. the world is spiraling into chaos further by the day and it’s an uncomfortable thought.))

HOW DID YOUR CHARACTER FIRST HEAR OF THE INQUISITION? WHAT DID THEY THINK?

in a letter sent to her by queen meredith, giving her further details on what happened at the conclave and proposing that jorina should join the forces + supplies that the crown intended to send to the budding inquisition as support. jorina had served as a skilled cartographer to the crown for probably at least?? 5 years at that point and meredith believed she would prove to be a valuable member of the inquisition if she were to join, and jorina wasn’t one to argue with the ding dang hero of ferelden. she believed that the inquisition could do some good for the world that was getting more frantic and desperate with each passing day and she was off to join their ranks (after making certain that her family would be well off until she could start sending some coin back their way). 

WHAT DID IT FEEL LIKE THE FIRST TIME THE HERALD SEALED A RIFT WITH THEM PRESENT?

i mean,, honestly,,, bewildering might be a good word for it. jorina doesn't know the first thing about magic, let alone the fade, so her witnessing the sealing of a rift didn’t necessarily pique anything overtly positive in her. it probably made her feel more safe, though. she's a very security oriented person and getting to see an open gateway that brought demons over into the physical world?? absolutely lovely to have it confirmed to work right before her eyes. get those things OFF of her earth, thank you. 

WHAT WERE THEIR LIVING ARRANGEMENTS IN HAVEN?

whatever all of the other scouts were given, i suppose. i don't really know what it'd be but i'm assuming some kind of tent or barracks situation?? she wouldn't have made much of a fuss about it given that she was almost always out on missions anyhow, avoided making any personal touches to the place because she was so focused on the work. 

WHAT ROLE DOES YOUR CHARACTER PLAY IN THE INQUISITION? DOES IT CHANGE AT ALL THROUGHOUT THE COURSE OF THE GAME?

jorina's a scout and cartographer! she's sent out (along with aleksi and maybe two or three others) to get a lay of the lands before the inquisitor and co make their trips. she draws up maps of the spaces, takes excessive notes and adds sketches of local landmarks, flora, fauna, that kind of stuff, anything to send back as much information to the inquisition as she can. firm believer in making note of every little thing because you never know what detail may come in handy down the line, no matter how small (and no matter how tedious and time-consuming it feels for her companions).

i imagine through the course of the inquisition's events that jorina is given more and more responsibility in the field, until she's ultimately promoted to head scout (aka the same level as lead scout harding, just allowing for split responsibilities between them). she's very dedicated to her work (some might say Too dedicated, take a break girl) and consistently delivered fantastic results, earning the attention and gratefulness of those above her who would later decide to give her that new title. 

i fully believe jorina needed that year (?? maybe not as long, but near to it) before she was promoted to be good at her job as head scout, because it gave her the time necessary to get to know the other scouts well and develop her own skills. knowledge on those fronts helped her down the line when she would be left in charge of scheduling and assigning jobs, being able to group people who would work well together and avoid any conflict that could come from failings in that department. (aka her charisma isn't great please do not force her to talk more than she has to, just take your job assignment and go do it thank you she has other work to do) 

IT’S YOUR CHARACTER’S TURN TO COOK A MEAL FOR THE PARTY. WHAT DO THEY TURN TO FIRST?

either some kind of bread with cheese baked into it or a stew, or both if she has the time. i think those would have been the things she made A Lot back in denerim for her family and even if she might be dreadfully bored of some variations, she finds comfort and enjoyment in the familiar process of cooking them anyhow.

WHEN IT’S THEIR TURN TO TAKE WATCH AT A PARTY CAMP, WHO DO THEY HOPE THEIR PARTNER WILL BE?

the obvious answer is aleksi, and the back-up harding. but if we're going for the fun points as in which inquisitor’s circle companion?? i think jorina would enjoy the company of blackwall and varric the most. blackwall is content to sit in the quiet with her while they both work on their own things and trade occasional comments, and varric is somebody that i could see successfully helping jorina out of her shell for a while with conversation and much needed laughs. (for fun, i think the person she would most hope to avoid that alone time with is cole. not because she doesn’t like him or anything, but because she’s Quite afraid of hearing him delve into her thoughts and openly drag her across the ground with them. she’d like to keep all of that private and shoved deep down, thank you)

IF NOT IN THE PARTY, WHAT ARE THEY DOING DURING THE ATTACK ON HAVEN? AND DURING THE RETREAT?

jorina was one of the scouts posted a little beyond haven at the time to keep watch for any important messengers or potential danger, so she was one of the two or three people that i imagine came bounding through the gates with news of the encroaching forces. she was probably bouncing around different elevated platforms to take potshots at the advancing enemies before being called back to the chantry and then being sent to scout ahead through the pathway that chancellor roderick had informed them of. she would have been working herself to exhaustion during the retreat and ensuing journey to skyhold with constantly scouting ahead and checking on those she cared about who had been hurt in the fight. could have used 39 hours of uninterrupted sleep upon finally reaching the new base, but she was probably up and about after 7 whenever she did get around to resting tbh.

IF PRESENT, WHAT WAS THEIR REACTION TO THE DAWN WILL COME BEING SANG WHEN THE HERALD WOKE UP AFTER THE LOSS OF HAVEN?

i’d love to put something funny or fake deep here but honestly i don’t think she was present for it. i think jorina would have been well ahead of the temporary camp set-up there between the mountains and at most would have heard distant singing carried through the winds, unable to understand what was being sung exactly. (if she was there she’d probably just want everyone to be quiet so the injured could rest ngl)

WHAT DO THEY THINK OF THE HERALD BEING MADE INQUISITOR? DO THEY THINK IT WAS THE RIGHT CHOICE, OR WOULD THEY HAVE PREFERRED SOMEONE ELSE (ONE OF THE ADVISORS, CASSANDRA, EVEN HAWKE OR THE HOF)?

would have loved for meredith cousland to become the inquisitor simply because she knows and has relative trust in her, but i don't think jorina would have any negative opinions on a herald becoming inquisitor as long as they're a Good person. has significant less trust in an inquisitor who supports the narrative of being andraste’s herald though, i don’t think that would rub her the right way.

WHAT ARE THEIR LIVING ARRANGEMENTS IN SKYHOLD?

just because i think it's funny, i like to imagine she often took to retreating up in one of those ignored rooms at the tops of the towers. they were quiet, essentially removed from the crowds, and gave her a nice view of things. it probably wasn't fixed up or decorated until she received her promotion and it was clear she'd be spending more time there on occasion, so she put in a request with josephine and had it fixed up so it could be a Proper room instead of somewhere she hid away on occasion.

i think she'd have the basic furniture in there (bed, wardrobe, desk, two or three trunks for storage, a few bookshelves) and most of her time inside would be spent working at her desk or relaxing in bed. she probably adds to it over time (and aleksi probably does as well tbh) with this and that, but the additions she'd care about most are the things gifted by aleksi or sent to her by her family. i imagine her brother might become an assistant to a blacksmith?? and she'd probably have a few little things from him around the room, proud of them even if they aren't of Masterwork quality yet.

WHAT DOES YOUR CHARACTER DO DURING THEIR OFF HOURS AT SKYHOLD?

according to everyone around her: still too much fucking work. it's hard for jorina to remember that it's good to simply Relax or spend time on light activity, so she needs somebody to remind her of that from time to time. when she does get around to those off hours a lot of them are spent with aleksi, reading, or being quiet company to whatever her friends are up to. i think she might also love spending time in the skyhold garden when it's not full of too many strangers and she can enjoy some peace, maybe sketch up some of the flowers or familiar figures if they're around and she's feeling up to it.

ASSUMING YOUR CHARACTER IS RELIGIOUS, HOW DO THEY KEEP THEIR FAITH IN SKYHOLD? DO THEY PRACTISE OPENLY?

jorina isn’t religious, but!! her mother was and she respected that. and i think jorina would have painted a vhenadahl onto one of the walls of her skyhold room in honor of her mother, inspired by the times she would pray at the tree.

DO THEY NEED ANY PREPARATION OR LESSONS BEFORE ARRIVING AT THE WINTER PALACE?

this is a trick question because everybody was given lessons on etiquette and dancing by josephine, you can't fool me.

that's a joke to cover up the fact that 100% yes jorina needed all of the lessons and preparation that she could be helped with, and even then it wasn't enough to help her feel fully Comfortable while at the event. she was only in the background gathering information and it Still felt dreadful for her, too many judging eyes and people openly speaking about betrayal and deception. (the only highlight was her time spent with aleksi, he helped her from getting too bothered or worked up and she was Very grateful.)

WHICH MAIN QUEST AFFECTS THEM THE MOST? IN WHAT WAY?

i mean…probably in your heart shall burn?? obviously because of the terrifying haven battle and its aftermath, and then all of the rough work she went through during and after. i think it helped jorina see just how far she could go if she pushed herself into more of an active and direct role while others were too busy to make decisions (nothing huge, but noticeable to her and the scouts with her in the moment). on top of that, this quest marks where jorina realized how in deep she was for aleksi which was Really big for her! she hadn't experienced caring for someone else so Deeply outside of her own family before, so it felt like being smacked in the chest with a red templar’s gauntlet when jorina first spotted him after being separated in the fight and she was hit with a wave of emotion. 

WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THE INQUISITOR JUDGES PRISONERS? DO THEY WATCH OR MAKE THEMSELVES SCARCE? IF THEY DISAGREE WITH THEIR DECISION, DO THEY EXPRESS THAT LATER?

if she's present at skyhold while a judgment is occurring i think jorina would watch, because in some way she thinks that it's right to. that even though her part in it may have been Small, she still aided in the capture of many of skyhold's prisoners and she believes that she should witness the deciding of their fates because of that. i don't imagine that she'd go around looking to throw her displeasure at anybody, but she'd probably admit to any disagreements with a decision made if the topic came up and she was asked.

HOW DO THEY CELEBRATE CORYPHEUS’ DEFEAT?

lots of sleeping with aleksi (both in the rest way and the naughty way), so many baths meant for actual relaxation instead of just cleaning, singlehandedly proving that the maker is real by being the one to suggest attending the [end of game] grand hall celebration that would undoubtedly be packed with people that's a goddamn miracle right there. you know the normal celebratory stuff. she'd invite her family to visit after a while, when things have calmed down and she believes significant threats are no longer a worry. she's wanted to show her siblings and father around the place for a long while, what better time than after their victory when everyone’s spirits are so high?

WHAT DOES YOUR CHARACTER DO IN THE YEARS BETWEEN THE END OF DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION AND TRESPASSER? FEEL FREE TO WRITE A CODEX ENTRY LIKE THE ONES WE RECEIVE FOR OUR OTHER COMPANIONS.

alright well originally i was gonna write some letters from jorina’s siblings and her dad here but my brain will just. Not allow me, so.

i imagine she still would have had her responsibilities to the inquisition and had to have done some traveling and the like, but i don’t think it felt pressured by time anymore and jorina would have felt more free to enjoy the places she visited. time with aleksi is a given but still important. 

her sister’s letter would have been about the time the family spent visiting skyhold, talking about what they liked and who they missed. would have mentioned whatever job she had recently gotten in/near denerim (haven’t decided on it yet), and a promise to stay out of trouble at the end because she’d caused some stress while jorina was away.

her brother’s letter would have had an update on his apprenticeship with one of denerim’s blacksmiths and how their father is doing, and a question about when they would see jorina and aleksi again because he misses them (and asaara). probably some other tidbit but i didn’t come up with it lmao

her father’s letter would have had questions about jorina and aleksi’s travels and talk about the family potentially moving away from the alienage with the coin that they’d been able to save up over the last few years with her help, though he wasn’t sure where they’d go. would have rounded off with some sweet words of support and an awkward thanks for all that she’d done for the family while he wasn’t able to step in.

[thedinanshiral]

My personal DA4 wishlist + thoughts

I’ve been teasing this post for a couple of weeks over at Twitter, i’m the worst! But anyway, since game journalism has decided to confirm, once again, that the next Dragon Age game will be set in Tevinter like that’s breaking news, now’s as good a time as ever to write all this down.

Locations: Tevinter, clearly. It’s been pretty much a given since the end of Trespasser in 2015, with that scene where the Inquisitor stabs a map on a table directly on Tevinter as they promise to go after Solas to stop him. But also concept art and several stories from Tevinter Nights heavily imply Antiva, Nevarra, the Anderfells, and maybe Rivain. For those of you who don’t know your Thedosian Geography 101, that’s basically Northern Thedas. And it makes sense, since so far for three games straight we’ve been first stuck in Ferelden, then the coast of the Free Marches, and later the rest of Southern Thedas. We’ve never been North, only heard of it. So in DA4 i’m sure we will finally be able to visit.

Characters: If we’re going to Tevinter, we must meet Dorian again, maybe meet Maevaris Tilani as well (previously only seen in comics), judging from the latest comics series, i’m hoping for Fenris too. And going by the latest teaser trailer, we might see Varric again. As for characters that so far we have no news of, i’d like to see Cole, the Iron Bull, and if by any chance BioWare feels like blessing us with a Hawke/Fenris reunion i might just die happy.  I’d also very much like to see the Inquisitor, but more on that later.

Companions: considering concept art and the latest teaser trailer, plus Tevinter Nights stories and new characters, we have an interesting repertoire of new potential companions. A Tevinter mage, an ancient elf (like a temple guardian) or a dalish elf (like Strife), a Nevarran mortalitasi or spirit, Antivan Crows, Lords of Fortune (new faction, kind of like treasure hunters), Qunari lady, maybe an alchemist or shapeshifter, Grey Wardens (possibly a dwarf), a liberated or escaped slave, a Siccari (Tevinter spies/assassins)..even past agents of the Inquisition could return. 

Plot: We know Solas wants to take down the Veil. We know there’s two archdemons left, and Grey Wardens are regaining some spotlight in concept art lately. We might have to fight on multiple fronts simultaneously and be strategic about it. Solas might even unleash a double Blight just to keep us distracted while he focus on his own goal, who knows. But many other things are happenig in the margins and all over the place. The Qunari Antaam is having a crisis with some of its members supposedly going rogue, the order they’re so proud of is breaking up, and the whole of Northern Thedas is facing an imminent threat of invasion. Tevinter is still dealing with remnants of the Venatori and might soon be dealing with a slaves rebellion and/or a political and social reform (Magisters Dorian and Maeveris have been working wirh the Lucerni, a group aiming to restore and redeem Tevinter). The Antivan Crows -the de facto rulers of Antiva - may be dealing with a succession crisis, as their First Talon, a powerful feared and respected but old lady, might not be around for much longer and seems her chosen heir has died before his time. Meanwhile in the Anderfells nobody’s heard anything from the Grey Wardens’ HQ at Weisshaupt since the end of Inquisition, and as told in the novel Last Flight, the sudden reappearance of griffons may have had something to do with that radio silence. So you see, get ready for another +100 hours long game because BW has plenty of stuff to keep us busy with. But in short, DA4 seems will be about primarily searching, finding, and dealing with Solas. Regardless of what you decided at the Exalted Council in Trespasser, the Inquisition or what’s left of it is most likely the group orchestrating that mission. As it was so clearly stated then, they need new people Solas doesn’t know so he can’t foresee their actions, so it’s possible the DA4 protagonist is a new agent or a third party hired to do what the Inner circle can’t due to their familiarity with Solas in the past. But at the same time -and this is assuming we get to find Solas in this game - i definitely think the Inquisitor could easily show up again. No, losing an arm doens’t mean they’ve retired forever, prosthetics do exist in Thedas, a world where you can combine dwarven craftmanship with enchantments, seriously, i don’t ever want to hear “but they lost an arm” ever again as an excuse to write them out. And no, marrying Cullen or joining the Red Jennys is no impediment to join the “Stop Solas” Squad; the end of Trespasser means something, mainly that this is personal. Be it they loved them as lovers, as friends or ended up hating his guts for using and betraying them, the Inquisitor’s relationship with Solas makes this very personal, and so having any other character do that face off would cheapen all of it, all that bittersweet angsty development and expectations of either revenge or closure. That moment should happen between those two. It adds a ton of motivation due to their past historyas well, something a new protagonist would lack entirely.  My personal best hope is for a sort of dual protagonist thing, say we play new protagonist for most of the game but a selected missions or scenes where we play as the Inquisitor once again and take over for key and heart-wrenching dialogue options. My second best hope is for the Inquisitor to show up as playable for the moment we catch up with Solas. My third and final best hope is for the inquisitor to be a sort of advisor but more like new protagonist’s boss/employer to whom they report back to and get new missions from. The Inquisitor can be stuck in meetings for the most part of it, i just want to know they’re there, behind a door, super busy but there. A cameo like Hawke’s in Inquisition is the bare miminum i can take, anyhting less than that like a mention in a sidequest description or a footnote in a codex entry would be a total  injustice. 

Romances: I’m open for pretty much anything, as any good BW fan would be. But i’d like romances to feel more alive in the sense that they don’t abruptly get stuck once you exhaust all related quests and dialogue options. As much as my Adaar liked that spank from the Iron Bull, that it was the only thing they could share after their romance was locked was a bit..meh. I liked Dorian’s tho, because his gave one the option to talk a bit, go for a walk, gossip, and sure, it all happened off-screen, and there were limited possibilities, but it was nice and made their relationship feel a bit more real, like they had more to it than kissing and stuff. It happens in most games, once you secure a romanceable companion suddenly you run out of things to do and share with them, and you get stuck with the same 3 lines of dialogue over and over again. There should be a way of solving that.

Side quests: i’m ok with fetch quests initially as it is a good way of forcing the player to go out and explore huge maps, but i’d also like the fetching to have some meaning other than checking things off a list. I want to explore many ruins, and -can’t believe i’m actually saying this- i want a Fade quest. Wait! I know what you’re thinking but don’t kill me just yet, here’s my idea: what if we could visit the Fade at certain locations to witness memories or meet with spirits and recollect information on Solas, his past, his present? Both to understand him better (keep in mind we’ll most likely get a new protagonist who isn’t familiar with him like we are as players) and try to locate him or predict his next move. It would be i think i great way of having visions of Arlathan in its golden age, maybe seeing some of the other Evanuris, how they interacted with each other and with the elves in their service, what really happened ...i just want that sweet, sweet lore, i need it.

Technical stuff: ok, graphics will be amazing for sure, but i also would really really like: better, more varied and longer hairstyles, PLEASE. Body sliders, it’s damn time we get them. Mounts that actually make a difference! Let staves blades make damage in combat, I’M BEGGING HERE. Combined classes, MAGICAL ROGUES! A homebase we can fix up/build on/redecorate as fully as possible (Skyhold was great and i love it to pieces but why were those walls NEVER repaired????) . More casual outfit options, idk i love to dress up my characters, maybe some transmog? A day/night cycle and please i would love to see Thedas’ second moon, also weather variations depending on the region. Yes, i’m ambitious.

Gameplay: i’d like more AI options for companions, but not quite like in DAO, that was too much and i rarely used it. I’m curious how they’ll do combat this time but i know for sure i don’t want the kind of combat that has me going almost frame by frame pausing at every second, it’s annoying for me. I want large areas like in DAI but with a bit more stuff to see and do although one of my favourite maps is the Hissing Wastes so i won’t complain if we get a literal desert but i’d also like it to have secrets hidden around, make me work to find and solve them, i love exploring, i jump and click on EVERYTHING like i’m still a kid playing Monkey Island. A companion in concept art seems to be holding what looks like some form of rifle, so i’m curious how they’d incorporate that in the game. I know Tevinter has the magics and dwarves have the skill, a firearm is totally within the possibilities in-game without breaking any lore; also super curious what sort of skill trees Crows or Lords of Fortune could have, are they rogues, or warriors, or both??

So far, that’s what i got in my head.Well, most of it anyways, i may have missed something but this post has to end somewhere lol

What’s in your head? Feel free to share! Have you been thinking on how you’ll create your next protagonist? All i can think of is magical rogues and that  glowing bow was all the hype i needed.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

Ohh maybe 1, 2, 3, and 28? 👀

*takes a sip from my can of soda* Ahhh~! Caffeine for the soul~ >:3

But you know what's better for the soul? Questions! Curiosity! RAMBLING ABOUT CHILDREN! >:D Let's GOOOO!

1. What would your Warden generally think of your Hawke and your inquisitor?

Rylen: 

Now, I kind of see Elise eventually meeting or at least, reaching out to Rylen after the events in Kirkwall. After all, she’s an Amell, and so is Hawke. They’re literally the only family each other has (that’s not ‘found’ family, that is.). So, I think Elise would reach out through a letter or somehow manage a visit to her cousin and...connect. She would see him as inspiring; Rylen always manages a smile and a quip. However, if they were to spend more and more time interacting with each other, Elise would see that Hawke isn’t very well put together, especially after the Chantry explosion. She would question why Rylen chose the templars, why he executed Anders who was a like a brother to her, but eventually she would come to understand the whys. Elise would see it as no different as when she decided to spare Loghain at the Landsmeet; they did what they believed to be right and what would be best in that very moment. Both Rylen and Elise sacrificed their own happiness for the benefit of others, and were still blamed for future complications and there’s something comforting in a finding another who can relate. :3

Fane:

So, I actually have some later fic ideas for a confrontation between Elise and Fane (after Trespasser, kind of Pre-DA4 shenanas~), and suffice it to say, these two have similar ways of thinking, but their methods are entirely different. Fane is rash, prone to barreling head first into conflict without thinking about those around him. Elise is analytical, always assessing and placing the pieces in her head to make sure everyone comes out alive. This isn’t to say Fane doesn’t care about his comrades; he does. There’s countless, countless times he takes a blow for someone else without batting an eye or thinking that he could die. He just doesn’t plan; he acts. Fane can get lost in the moment of battle, in the heady scent of chaos and blood. Elise, at first meeting him, would see him as any typical warrior; eager for battle and a garden of death. But if they were to sit down and talk...I think she might find him endearing and fascinating. More or less she would think, ‘He’s so mature for someone so young. I mean, he’s twenty-four, but...he speaks as if he’s older. His speech is manicured, measured as if decided upon carefully. And his eyes...there’s pain, a deep, deep pain. Like some of the older Wardens, those just hearing the Calling. But also...hope? Conviction? Who are you, Inquisitor? What has the world done to you?’

2. What would your Hawke generally think of your warden and your Inquisitor?

Elise:

Rylen would probably have the same opinion of Elise as she does with him. They’re family, split apart due the misconceptions and fear, and my Hawke cherishes family. He lost everyone else he could rightly consider family. Fenris, Varric, Sebastian, Isabela, and Merrill are the only people he can call family now. (Anders and Aveline are complicated. I won’t go into that can of worms. For now~ >:3) He would definitely feel a level of guilt for what he had to do in Kirkwall with Anders, with the mages, with...everything, but Rylen just tries to make it through another day. If he and Elise started to interact I think it would be extremely beneficial to Rylen. Elise is patient, sometimes stern, and not afraid to lay all the facts out. Rylen would admire that since he’s had to go through life wearing a mask, a smile, a facade just to placate someone else. He would see Elise as another sister and his opinion of her would probably be along the lines of, ‘I won’t let another member of my family be torn from me. Father, Bethany, Carver...Mother.. I failed them. I won’t fail her. I won’t fail her. She’s bright and she keeps her head held high. Heh, now I see how she killed an Archdemon and lived to tell the tale. ...Bet the lightning has something to do with that, too.’

Fane: 

Rylen and Fane, in my head, actually hit it off from the get go. They’ve both had to take mantles of power, even though they never, never wanted to. Though, for different reasons, of course. But Rylen would find Fane inspiring and wholly capable of doing what must be done. He’d be kind of put off that most of his well thought out jokes and pokes would fall flat on Fane, but eventually, Rylen would see why that is. (Draconic nature withstanding.) Also, once my Hawke found out Fane is dragon?  OHHHH, BUDDY. There would be yelling and screeching and cries of, ‘WHY DO I KEEP MEETING DRAGONS, FENRIS?! FIRST THE WITCH, NOW THE INQUISITOR?! ..I’m done. I’m putting my daggers down and stealing away into the mountains. Varric, you wanna come with? I know you’re fed up with this shit, too! Don’t lie! DON’T. LIE.’

3. What would your Inquisitor generally think of your warden and your Hawke?

Elise:

Fane would probably think of Elise as...interesting. Not in a bad way. Just...interesting. Fane isn’t comfortable with Wardens after Adamant. He learns that he can hear the corruption inside of them and that terrifies him. And confuses him. And makes him go, ‘What the fuck am I? I don’t even know anymore. Why do I try?’ But, if he were to get over that and, like I said with Elise, talk? He would have another perspective of the men and women that had let fear take them by the throat. It wouldn’t change his feelings regarding the Wardens entirely, but one level mind, one open mind, is enough to make Fane tap into his nature and consider other sides of a very, very large cube.

‘She’s more...quiet than the others. Maybe because it’s just her? No...Loghain was still loud as fuck when it was just him, so why? Ugh, I’m so sick of these puzzles. At least she’s more stable, but I can see the pain in her eyes; green like mine, but missing the gold. Maybe the Taint is stronger than she thinks? Perhaps, but still she fights, still she claws her way towards something that may be impossible. ...Hmph. How typical. A similarity. This world continues to confound.’

Rylen:

Fane respects Rylen after spending some time to feel him out, know his cues, and piece together which is his actual face. Once that happens, Fane can move into respect with my Hawke. These two have a fairly similar moral compass; pragmatism regarding most decisions. Again, they both have been thrust into a position without asking for it, so that would be a stepping stone upon the bonding path. All in all, Fane’s general opinion of Rylen would be, ‘He’s worn that mask of smiles and bright, grey eyes for too long. It’s cracking at the edges, wearing down to mere mortar. Then again, I have my own mask. I’m in no position to judge and condemn, but...it’s worrying. Even the strongest wings can be torn and all that greets is the earth below. I hope your wings don’t falter, Champion. It would be disappointing for the world to lose someone who cares when those who should are content to point the finger towards anyone but themselves.’

28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?

Fane: The Emprise du Lion! Snowwwww! Coooold! Ice dragooooon! >:3 ...minus the red lyrium. *snorts* 

Origins: Hmm, I think Fane would like the Brecilian Forest. He enjoys forests as much as he enjoys the cold, the ice, and the snow. He likes the animals, even though he tries not to interfere with them, and he likes the quiet. No chattering, no demands. Only trees, leaves, and the occasional whistle of wind. Also, Fane likes to investigate ancient ruins. He’s not interested in the history, really. He just wants to see if he can find any remnants about his kin that the elves may have left behind. :3

DA2: Probably Sundermount since again, wilderness. Fane doesn’t do too well in crowded areas and Kirkwall would make his heart rate sky rocket. Not just because of the people, but because of the size. Those cramped streets of Lowtown would just make him...eugh. *shivers*

Elise: She adores Orzammar! Especially the Shaperate! The dwarves fascinate Elise since not many tomes in the Circle went into depth about them! :D And if we want to with Awakening areas, I would saaaay...Amaranthine. She’s always like towns and cities due to not being able to experience them until the Blight! :3

Inquisition: Elise would adore the Frostback Basin. Like, really enjoy it! All that flora and Avaar culture and wilderness? MMMM!

DA2: Definitely the Wounded Coast. Hands down. My daughter enjoys the sea so much. The salt in the air, the feel of sand, and the pretty, pretty shells and rolling waves? Every Circle mages’ wet dream. *waggles eyebrows*

Rylen: So, if we’re not talking like open world areas in the game, I would definitely say Rylen’s favorite place is the Hanged Man. The man needs a drink to deal with Kirkwall. Just saying. It’s also where he can just...be himself with the people who know him. 

Inquisition: Hinterlands. He’s a FERELDAN. He wants his MABARI to RUN in native land! He wants to...go home. ;3;

Origins: I like to think the Hawke family went all over Ferelden before settling in Lothering. I mean, they kind of do, but maybe for more than a few months at a time? So, Rylen would enjoy Denerim. He likes to go where people are, where life is. He likes crowds because he can blend into them and not be tracked down until he wants to be tracked down. ...My Hawke just wants to live in peace with his glowy elf husband and run a mabari ranch. Is that too much to ask, Bioware?! Let Hawke REST!

Woo! That was FUN! It really got me thinking, too! X3 Thank you so much, friend! <3

[aricazorel]

Tagged by @noire-pandora Thank you!

This is from a future chapter of my Dragon Age story "Anchor: Ripples" featuring Cullen Rutherford and Anyssa McBride. The third in the Anchor series it centers around their lives after the end of DA:I and the Trespasser DLC.

Anchor: Ripples available here on AO3

~ ~ ~

“Was today that bad?” she asked as she moved to her dresser and began taking down her hair.

He watched her removed the hair combs he had gifted her for her last birthday. “I…I more than likely could have handled it better. I suppose I did handle it better than I would have a year ago but still…I’m a soldier not a diplomat or mediator. I truly have no patience for bickering when the ruddy answer is literally on the table in writing. A compromise the two parties have already agreed to but haven’t signed. Why bicker when they’ve already agreed?

“Because it’s expected,” she replied matter-of-factly as she placed the combs in the a box and picked up her brush.

“Expected?” he echoed skeptically.

The historian nodded as she glanced over at him. “To save face. Even if say Ferelden does not participate in the Grand Game as Orlais does, the nobility are still bound by certain expectations. They can’t be seen as giving into a compromise too easily or they will losing standing with the others nobles and the Court. That is not something they will give up even to benefit their nation. They will sign the compromise if it is in their benefit but not before hemming and hawing about trivial things.”

“Ruddy stupid waste of time,” Cullen grumbled as he walked over to stand behind her. Taking the brush from her, he murmured, “Let me?”

The honey blonde nodded as he carefully, methodically began brushing out her hair from the intricate braid she had worn it in for the day. Occasionally he would glance up to see her meeting his gaze with a smile and other times her eyes would be closed, an expression of contentment on her face. As he brushed out her wavy locks, his mind wondered to what he could do differently to facilitate smoothers talks. Maybe explain the compromise more? Or in smaller words? Maybe lock them in a room by themselves until they learned to behave like adults?

He grimaced. None of it would work and the last option would result in a stern lecture from Josephine. Maybe just learning to tune it out until they decided to sign the ruddy compromise was his best course of action. He had plenty of experience ignoring the trivial complaints of civilians in Kirkwall as well of from those inside the Order. The kinds of things small children would complain to their parents about from their siblings. Yes. That would—

“You said you were just a soldier,” Anyssa’s voice called to him, shaking him from his thoughts.

He glanced up to see ice blue eyes regarding him curiously in the mirror. “I—I suppose I did. That is what I have been for most of my life.”

“But that’s not the only thing you see yourself as is it?”

He paused in his brush strokes. Her tone was curious but the nature of the question hinted at something deeper. “Nys, what is it that you really want to ask?”

She turned around to face him. “My job is to be the Inquisition’s historian but that doesn’t solely define who I am. I’m also a writer, a friend, a lover, a prankster, someone who enjoys telling stories and hearing others in return. But every time an opportunity arises to define who you are, you say soldier every single time.”

“But I am—”

“You are a Commander. You were a Knight-Commander and a Knight-Captain. And long before that you were a recruit for the templar order. But those are ranks not an identity. You are more than a soldier.”

“Nys, I fail to see—”

She motioned to the armor stand in the corner of their bedroom and the lion helm beside it. “Those come off. The man I see before me doesn’t wear them now. In fact, he had been wearing them less and less. The clothes he just threw in the hamper are what he has been wearing more often. Does a soldier wearing finery to battle?”

“Only a foolish one,’ the Commander muttered.

That earned him a whack to the chest as she scolded, “Not the point, Cullen.”

“Then what is the point?”

“Do you remember our conversation after the landslide the night Haven fell? Do you remember what you said I did for you?”

Slowly he nodded. “You—You helped me remember why I wanted to be a Templar. That I wanted to protect people and that I could start over in that with you.”

She smiled at him. “You weren’t a Templar any longer then. You haven’t been in three years yet you are still able to protect people. Suffering through these new duties you are ensuring agreements are made that will continue to save lives.”

“More than a soldier you are a protecter. You always have been at heart even if you forgot that for a while,” she said gently as she placed a hand over his heart. “Things change. We both know that. But we don’t have to let those things change who we are.”

“I am still learning who I am,” he said quietly as he looked down to where her hand rested on his chest.

“So am I,” she whispered. “I think we don’t ever really stop.”

Cullen smiled at her as he met her gaze once again. The armor represented a part of him and at one point it had been a large part of his identity for much of his life. But as with so many things in the past year, even that was changing. When he retired, he would no longer be a soldier at least not in the sense he was accustomed to. Perhaps he would keep the armor this time unlike his Templar armor. It could serve as a reminder of all the choices he had been free to make once he left the Order, all the trials he had overcome, all the new opportunities he had been afforded, how he had met Nyssa and how their journey together had begun.

So many changes had taken place both by choice and by chance since his departure from the Templar order. One of the most significant stood in front of him. Anyssa represented so many things to him and was his biggest supporter. The one he trusted the most. The one he confessed his doubts and fears to. The one who saw him through his nightmares and withdrawals. The one who called him out on, as she phrased it, his bullshit. The one he could see spending the rest of his life with, whatever form that took.

The one who knew him the best.

He cupped her cheek as he leaned down and kissed her quickly. “Will you continue to help me discover who I am?”

She nodded. “Of course, but you have to do the same for me.”

“As my lady wishes,” he promised as he quickly scooped her up with both arms. She squealed as she always did, protesting with no real fight behind it. He moved his lips to her ear as he promised, “I will always love you, sweetling. That much will never change. I promise.”

[icy-warden]

Whispers

For @cdhurricane °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° [read on ao3]

It’s late when they stumble upon the village on the outskirts of Brecilian. Zevran didn’t want to hear about camping in the wilds third night in a row and pushed for a place with a roof over their heads. The tiny tavern is as clean as Ferelden standards go - old wood that by some miracle still holds the beams and walls that years ago were probably white. It’s hard to say with so little light in the room, but for them the lack of candles isn’t really a problem. They can see just fine, contrary to the people inside that squint at them. Few lone patrons stare at them from their tables, conversations hushing.

Zevran saunters straight to the counter, relaxed smile on his lips. He trusts Frey to have his back as he nonchalantly leans on both elbows over the bar top. The one at the counter eyes them suspiciously and he can see what she’s thinking as she spots the tip of Zevran’s ear poking from his hair. The way her face closes off is rather telling. Some things never change. He holds in a weary sigh.

“Good evening, are you the owner of this fine establishment? We’d like to rent a room.”

The woman’s eyebrows furrow at Zevran’s pleasant tone, like she isn’t sure if she was just insulted while flattered. She glances at him down her nose.

“Owners are asleep.”

She skims her eyes over Frey’s face when he lets his hood fall down from his head. Looks away as soon as she sees the lines of his vallaslin, her fingers tightening on the rag she’s holding. He senses others' attention on them spiking and he shifts his stance.

“We don’t do business with Dalish.”

It shouldn’t sting, not after everything he went through. And yet something in his stomach stirs unpleasantly at the grumble. He doesn’t let it out, expression as neutral as usual.

“Ah, but I’m sure we’ll agree on something. We’re paying clients, after all.”

Any further comments die on her lips as Zevran gently places the pouch with their money on the counter, the strings subtly tied around one of his fingers if he’d have to snatch it away quickly. The greedy glint in the woman's dark eyes tells him enough.

She’s sold.

Frey looks around as Zevran chats her up, catching a few stray words about meal and washbasins.

The place is clean but in disrepair. They must be desperate for any money then, even from them. No coin stinks when you need it.

The men watching them seem to lose their interest and go back to their talks, though he’s still feeling as being watched. Frey crosses his arms and rests his hip on a nearby table, the lapel of his coat opening, the pommel of a short sword strapped at his waist poking out. He lets his eyes roam slowly over the room, just to be sure no one tries anything funny when they retire. One or two patrons shrink into themselves when they meet his icy glare. Desperate times have desperate people and not every corner of Ferelden is as flourishing after Blight as it was before.

He wonders if it’ll ever be. If his people will have the chance to flourish again.

/////

The sound of a wooden spoon scraping at the bottom of the bowl mixes with faint noises of the tavern under them. The meal wasn’t the best he’s had but it was warm. He glances at Zevran, finishing washing himself with what little water they got from the woman. Few droplets cling to his face as he slowly combs his hair. One honey gold eye takes over his form.

“There’s still some left if you wish to bathe.”

“Later,” he murmurs standing up.

Zevran hums, “Suit yourself.”

Frey looks at their possessions spread out on the narrow cot, because the straw mattress and few moth eaten blankets can’t really be called a bed. He’s silently sorting the contents of his pack as Zevran pulls on fresh clothes, shuddering a little. Still not used to the chill in the air. Probably will never be.

A small smile threatens to lift up the corners of his mouth when memories of last nights resurface. All of them with Zevran’s body nearly clinging to his, seeking warmth as soon as he lay down after he was sure the area was secure to let himself sleep. To let both of them sleep. Zevran has a way of worming himself into his blanket while being wrapped in his own and still whines about being cold, thus the necessity of plastering himself to his back and holding on tight.

He doesn’t mind, not really. The feel of the other so close isn’t keeping him awake and alert anymore. In the dark and serenity of the night, the chance to hold the other, to feel the warmth of his skin and the gentle pulse of his heart is grounding.

The void in his chest isn’t so vast anymore.

He puts away the pieces of his armor and washes himself quickly with what’s left in the bucket as Zevran eats his share of the food they bought downstairs. Muttering softly after he chews, foreign words spilling as easily as he breathes. Frey doesn’t understand what he’s saying, but he has an idea. Ferelden food isn't to his taste. Dalish meals though, they’re another story.

They play cards to pass the time when it’s obvious Frey isn’t able to simply unwind and go to sleep. Tiredness pushes on his shoulders and the aches of journey wear down on him. But the whirlwind of thoughts isn’t as easy to shut down tonight.

Zevran must have noticed.

And now he keeps him company, never going easy on him when it comes to their card game. The stack of tokens keeps growing on his side - last thing Frey had to part with lying on top of other items. Leather arm bracer, small vial of deathroot extract, a ribbon, dagger sheath, one dirty sock he just hurled at Zevran in playful anger after he lost again. He’ll get all his things back after they’re finished anyway. If there were coins and someone other than him, Zevran would rob them blind with a charming grin and they wouldn’t be very mad at him. Frey saw that happen once or twice.

Now, as they play Zevran fills in the silence with stories. In a rare moment when both of them seem to focus on their strategy Frey catches him looking as he sees something that isn’t there, his thoughts far away. He knows that look intimately and it pulls at his gut, but at the same time he’s glad.

That Zevran feels safe enough in his presence to let himself be distracted, absentmindedly twirling the lock of his hair as he stares at his cards. The movement makes him pay attention to the bracelet on his wrist, simple leather strands braided tightly together with one silvery bead made of ironbark. The rune for protection on it is small enough to be unnoticed, but it works as intended. He was taught that intent is a key part while he’s working with his hands and whatever he crafts should be full of his focus and heart to work as it was supposed to. A constant echo of the teachings of his old mentor from another life, still fresh at the back of his mind when he’d set to work on something.

“If you’re not giving your all to the tool you’re making, how will it serve you the same later?”

“Ready to admit defeat?”

He blinks, caught staring. Zevran’s eyes are soft when he tilts his head, long blond strands framing his face. He drinks from the cup he’s been casually holding all their game. Frey closely follows the way his tongue licks his lips.

“And go to bed? I’ll keep it warm this time if you want.” The teasing is light, the invitation in Zevran’s smile open. The mood shifts and Frey bites the inside of his cheek, silent, but not outright rejecting the idea.

He watches Zevran getting up and stepping around the small table, “With a massage to your stiff shoulders.”

“You’re tired as I am.” Frey doesn't leave his seat but reaches for him as soon as he’s close to put his hands on Zevran’s waist. Smooth feel of the fabric of his clothes under his touch is a contrast to the sturdier surface of his leathers.

“Still have it in me for a little bit of fun before we both collapse.”

Standing between his spread legs he runs his hands over Frey’s head, fingers catching on the auburn hair. The gentle scrape of his nails has him pushing into the touch, the pleasant tingle of being slowly caressed sneaking upon him. Making him drowsy.

“It’s grown.”

Frey hums and closes his eyes, arms crossing over Zevran’s back. Holding him tighter.

“You’re leaving it like that?” His question is a little above murmur but he hears it resonate in his chest with the ear so close to it.

“You’re letting it go?” It’s what he hears, in a voice long gone and such a simple question shouldn’t bring so many confusing emotions, should it? Grief is a trickster and never really goes away, does it.

Frey squeezes his eyes, pushing out a breath that is a bit heavier. Swallows the straight out “No, never,” that’s at the back of his throat, ignoring the “maybe,” he’s not so fond of, before he settles on-

“I don’t know.” It sounds loud even if it’s whispered, the raw tone of his voice catching him off guard for a second.

Zevran leans away and Frey’s hold on him slackens. His gaze is searching as he lets him tilt his chin up. Frey doesn’t look away. His eyes are half lidded when Zevran shifts his hands to cup the sides of his face, the warmth of his mouth over his forehead like a seal of a promise.

He doesn’t say anything, his touch speaking for him and Frey lets himself be distracted by it until his breath slows down with sleep.

[dacompanionreactions]

Hello! How would companions of DA:I react to Inky, who is in fact a demigod (The child of Maker and mortal woman)? and there incredible powers to rip reality, heal any disease and cut, and fully talk with darkspawn and lyriam? With non and Romanced people

This was really fun to write! Sorry it took so longggg

Cassandra is relieved beyond measure. The fact that they were sent by The Maker (who just so happens to be their parent) gives her no doubt that they will win this war. Their abilities could be seen as scary to anyone who didn't know them, but what Cassandra sees is a good friend who just happens to be the child of The Maker.

If romanced, her reaction won't change much. Her primary thought is, "I am the luckiest woman in all of Thedas." She feels truly blessed to have the Inquisitor at her side.

Varric is Andrastian. He's not very vocal about it, but behind his blasphemy, Varric believes in The Maker. At first, he makes a joke about The Maker cheating on his bride. "Poor Andraste. Burned, cheated on... that woman cannot catch a break." Mainly, he's glad the Inquisitor is on his side. He dislikes it when they 'communicate' with red lyrium, stating he'd rather have it destroyed than crack jokes with it. The Inquisitor waves their hand and the red lyrium vanishes without a trace. Varric Greatly Approves.

Solas is in no position to judge. He is Fen'harel after all. He's got nothing against Andrastianism, but he dislikes blind faith. At first he's apprehensive of their overpowered abilities, but as they get closer all he sees is a friend. A friend he's unintentionally hurt.

If romanced, Solas will ask the Inquisitor a lot more questions about her abilities. His reaction doesn't change much, but he finds himself worrying about his vhenan when they're on the field, a lot more than is wise.

"Somebody, get me a fainting couch!" Dorian jests, but he's truly in awe. His friend, the Herald of Andraste ("How ironic."), the child of The Maker himself. He asks the Inquisitor many questions, less about their father and more about their god-given capabilities. When he learns of their ability to cure any ailments, he requests they do something for him. Dorian is eternally grateful to the Inquisitor after they cure Felix of the blight.

If romanced, Dorian will ask more personal questions about the Inquisitor's family, but only if they are willing to share. Mostly, he feels safe and secure when he's with his amatus. The events at Adamant have him feeling a lot worse, however. They were so close to the Golden City, so close to The Maker. Honestly, he was afraid the Inquisitor would be taken from him. Thankfully, his fears were for naught.

Sera is stunned into silence for the first time in her life. "Oh, shite," she says finally. This revelation means a lot to her. It means that the throne in the Golden City has a godly arse to sit on it. It means The Maker is real. The same could be said about what Coryphy-spit said. Sera's main concern is the Inquisitor, though. "Demi-what evers have powers, yeah? I'm just making sure you're not an entitled arse for it." She warms up to the Inquisitor quickly after they use their abilities for good.

If romanced, her reaction isn't much different. However, Sera is more appreciative of her Honey Tongue's powers, because she can use them for pranks. Stuff like punting pies through several fade rifts in Ferelden to hit a noble in Val Royeaux? Priceless. It's a shame her Inky's abilities can't be used to make nice cookies.

Blackwall chuckles at first; he thinks they're joking. When it hits him, he exclaims a loud, "Maker's balls!" The Inquisitor says something about not wanting to think about their father's balls and Blackwall starts wheezing. All jokes aside, he's very glad the Inquisitor isn't allied with Corypheus. He only asks them about their family if they ask about Blackwall's past. It's a mutual respect kinda thing.

If romanced, during the early days he'll be much more reluctant to start a relationship with the Inquisitor. His past is constantly weighing on his mind and he believes he is unworthy of her, unworthy of The Maker's child. As they grow closer, he finds himself feeling safe with her and vice versa. However, he knows the truth will come out, and soon.

Cole is less concerned about their status as a demi-god and more worried about them as a person. The Inquisitor's thoughts are unbearably loud, amplified by The Maker's blood running through their veins. It hurts to hear them. Demi-god. Maker's child. Inquisitor. Herald of Andraste. Why can't they see that I'm just a person like them? Cole takes them by the hand and says with utmost confidence, "You are a person. Everyone else sees it. They treat you with respect because you are worthy of it. Your thoughts are loud, pained. Let me help."

The Iron Bull was raised under the teachings of the Qun, so naturally he feels conflicted when he learns The Maker exists and has a child. Overall, and in the kindest way possible, he doesn't really give two craps. What matters to him is their safety, the safety of The Chargers and the destruction of Corypheus and the demons. Bull admits that he finds it pretty badass how the Inquisitor can snap their fingers and their enemies will disintegrate. It does get rid of the fun of bonking them with a sledgehammer, though.

If romanced, Bull will make some dirty jokes and ask questions like, "How does a god and a person even do it?" It gets a laugh out of his kadan every time. He likes to think of them as the most badass couple in the entire Inquisition, and let's face it... they really are.

Vivienne is rather pleased when she finds out. Their status as a demi-god will be handy when dealing with pushy nobles. She makes a mental note to contact her seamstress in Val Royeaux. They need clothes worthy of a god's child. When she takes them to see Bastien, they stop her from giving him the potion. At first she is apprehensive, but the Inquisitor places a hand on Bastien's face and cures him. Vivienne is forever grateful. "My darling, how ever can I repay you?"

Cullen could not think clearly when they told him. Lyrium withdrawal was making it difficult. The Inquisitor waves a hand over him and his symptoms almost disappear. The Inquisitor apologises and explains that while withdrawal is not a disease or cut that can be cured, they can still lessen the symptoms. He is grateful to them.

If romanced, like Blackwall, Cullen will be hesitant to start a relationship with the Inquisitor. "You're the Inquisitor, The Maker's child. I'm not worthy of you." She says she believes otherwise, and the two share a kiss on the battlements. Cullen is thankful for her presence. The fact that she's The Maker's daughter is just a side-benefit. To him, she is everything.

Leliana is almost angry at first. Not at the Inquisitor, just the circumstances they were in. She hates that the one person who could have saved Justinia was incapacitated by the explosion. "What is His game? You're His child, you must know." She struggles to hide her disappointment when they say they don't know. They talk often about Justinia and The Maker. Eventually, Leliana stops seeing them as just The Maker's child. They're her friend, too.

Josephine is delighted. First of all, it makes her job about ten times easier. Half of her attempts at diplomacy stem from Andrastianism being shared around Thedas. Secondly, it means that the Inquisition is quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with. She will ask the Inquisitor if they want that information public. If their mother is still alive, Josephine reaches out to her contacts to make sure she's brought safely to Skyhold. "It's the least I can do, Inquisitor."

If romanced, Josie's reaction won't change drastically. Mainly, she feels like she's been blessed by The Maker to have them with her. In a way, she has.